Two or three of the little notes follow: 

MY DEAREST ANNA :-I long to be with you through the hours that are before you, and to help cheer and sustain you in the trial of faith and patience to which you are called.  But unless you need me I will not go, lest I should be the one too many in your state of excitement and suspense.  We all feel anxiety as to the result of the incision, but take comfort in casting our care upon God.  May Christ Jesus, our dear Saviour, who loves and pities you infinitely more than any of us do, be very near you in this season of suspense.  I would gladly exchange positions with you if I might, and if it were best; but as I may not, and it is not best, because God wills otherwise, I earnestly commend you to His tender sympathy.  If He means that you shall be restored to health, He will make you happy in living; if He means to call you home to Himself, He will make you happy in dying.  Dear Anna, stay yourself on Him:  He has strength enough to support you, when all other strength fails.  Remember, as Lizzy Smith said, you are “encompassed with prayers.”

Friday Afternoon,

MY DEAR ANNA :-I send you a “lullaby” for next Sunday, which I met with at Dorset, and hope it will speak a little word and sing a little song to you while the rest are at church.  How I do wish I could see you every day!  I feel restless with longing; but you are hardly able to take any comfort in a long visit and it is such a journey to make for-a short one!  But, as I said the other day, if at any time you feel a little stronger and it would comfort you even a little bit to see me, I will drop everything and run right over.  It seems hard to have you suffer so and do nothing for you.  But don’t be discouraged; pain can’t last forever.

  “I know not the way I am going
  But well do I know my Guide! 
  With a childlike trust I give my hand,
  To the mighty Friend at my side. 
  The only thing that I say to Him
  As He takes it, is, ’Hold it fast. 
  Suffer me not to lose my way,
  And bring me home at last!’”

MY DEAR ANNA:-I feel such tender love and pity for you, but I know you are too sick to read more than a few words.

“In the furnace God may prove thee,
Thence to bring thee forth more bright
But can never cease to love thee: 
Thou art precious in His sight!”

                    Your ever affectionate LIZZY.

To Mrs. Lenard, Friday, Oct. 30, 1858.

We got home safely last evening before any of the children had gone to bed, and they all came running to meet us most joyfully.  This morning I am restless and can not set about anything.  It distresses me to think how little human friendship can do for such a sorrow as yours.  When a sufferer is on the rack he cares little for what is said to him though he may feel grateful for sympathy.  I found it hard to tear myself away from you so soon, but all