Reading this letter over in my present mood has done me good. More beautiful faith in God than Helen's I have never seen; let me have it, too. May this prayer, which, under the inspiration of the moment, I can offer without a misgiving, become the habitual, deep-seated desire of my soul: "Bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ. Take what I cannot give--my heart, body, thoughts, time, abilities, money, health, strength, nights, days, youth, age, and spend them in Thy service, O my crucified Master, Redeemer, God. Oh, let these not be mere words! Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire in comparison of Thee. My heart is athirst for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?" Chapter 27 XXVII. AUGUST 1 I HAVE just written to Mrs. Brown to know whether she will take us for the rest of the summer. A certain little man, not a very old little man either, has kept us in town till now. Since he has come, we are all very glad of him, though he came on his own invitation, brought no wardrobe with him, does not pay for his board, never speaks a word, takes no notice of us, and wants more waiting on than any one else in the house. The children are full of delicious curiosity about him, and overwhelm him with presents of the most heterogeneous character. Sweet Briar Farm, AUG. 9.-We got there this afternoon, bag and baggage. I had not said a word to Mrs. Brown about the addition to our family circle, knowing she had plenty of room, and as we alighted from the carriage, I snatched my baby from his nurse's arms and ran gaily up the walk with him in mine. "If this splendid fellow doesn't convert her nothing will," I said to myself. At that instant what should I see but Mrs. Brown, running to meet me with a boy in her arms exactly like Mr. Brown, only not quite six feet long, and not sunburnt. "There!" I cried, holding up my little old man. "There!" said she, holding up hers. We laughed till we cried; she took my baby and I took hers; after looking at him I liked mine better than ever; after looking at mine she was perfectly satisfied with hers. We got into the house at last; that is to say, we mothers did; the children darted through it and out of the door that led to the fields and woods, and vanished in the twinkling of an eye. Mrs. Brown had always been a pretty woman, with bright eyes, shining, well-kept hair, and a color in her cheeks like the rose which had given its name to her farm. But there was now a new beauty in her face; the mysterious and sacred sufferings and joys of maternity had given it thought and feeling.