To Mrs. Fisher, Oct. 31, 1877.

With young children, and artistic work to do, the wonder is not that you have to neglect other things, but that you ever find time to attend to any one outside of house and home.  I do not want you to make a care and trouble of me; I feel it a privilege to try even to copy anything from your hand, and am willing to bide my time.  It is shocking to think of your summer’s work being burned up; no money can compensate for such a loss—­I hate to think of it.  I have had your landscape framed, and it is the finest thing in the house.

Nov. 9th.—­I have your apple-blossoms ready to mail with this.  I found the subject very difficult, and at one time thought I should have to give it up; but your directions are so clear and to the point that I have succeeded in getting a picture we all think pretty, though wanting in the tender grace of yours.

The picture, which is a gentle blaze of beauty, has just reached me.  We have had burglars in the house, and one of my songs of praise is that they did not take the little gem I got from you last summer.  Glad you are a woman and not all artist.

To Mrs. Condict, Nov. 24, 1877

As to the running fern, I paint it the color of black walnut, and round placques it looks like carving.  Emerald green I hate, but it is a popular color, and A. was obliged to put it into the flower pictures she painted on portfolios.  I am glad you are still interested in your painting.  I have just finished the second reading of Miss Smiley’s book, and marked passages which I am sure you will like.  I will mail my copy to you.  As to joy—­“the fruits of the Spirit” come naturally to those in the Spirit, and joy is one.  But we may make an idol of our joy, and so have to part with it.  There may come a period when God says, virtually, to the soul, “You clung to Me when I smiled upon and caressed you; let Me see how you will behave when I smile and speak comfortably no more.”  Fenelon says, “To be constantly in a state of enjoyment that takes away the feeling of the cross, and to live in a fervor of devotion that keeps Paradise constantly open—­this is not dying upon the cross and becoming nothing.” [21]

When I look at the subject at a distance, as it were, remembering that this life is mere preparation for the next, it seems likely that we shall have religious as well as other discipline; if we ascend the mount of Transfiguration it is not that we may dwell there, though it is natural to wish we could.  And the fact is, no matter what professions of rapture people make, if they believe in Christ and love Him as they ought to do, what they have enjoyed will be nothing when compared with going to live with Him forever, surrounded by sanctified beings all united in adoring Him.  When I think of this my courage grows apace, and I say to myself, I may never live in heaven again here below; but I certainly shall, above; and can’t I be patient till then?  I wonder if you know that I am going to begin a Bible-reading on the first Wednesday in December?  I have a very kind letter from Mr. Peter Carter, who says Kezia would make the fortune of any book.