A few extracts from the little diaries referred to are here given: 

May 15, 1857.—­Box came from Mrs. Bumstead—­my dear, kind friend—­ containing everything; salmon, tomatoes, oranges, peaches, prunes, cocoa and ham, tea and sugar from her father.[3] How pleasant the kindness of friends! 21st.—­Worked at planting aster seeds and putting in verbena cuttings—­all in my room, of course. 23d.—­First hepaticas in garden.  Sweet peas coming up.  Brownie hatched—­one chicken. June 1st.—­Books from dear Lizzy.  “Sickness,” may it do me good. [4] 28th.—­Sent flowers to the B.’s, flowers and strawberries to Mrs. N., green peas to E. M., and trout to Mother Hopkins. July 2d.—­Continue to send strawberries—­yesterday to the B.’s—­to-day to A. B. and Miss G., with rosebuds.

Oct. 11th.—­A beautiful autumn day.  Could not leave my bed till near noon.  Then Albert drove me down the lane and carried me into the woods in his arms.  Eddy has collected $30 for Kansas. [5] 25th.—­My whole time, night and day, is spent in setting traps for sleep.  To-day the money was sent for Kansas—­$55, of which $9 was from us. Nov. 4th.—­Election day.  Great excitement. 5th.—­Wretched news; it is feared that Buchanan is elected. Nov. 17th.—­The anniversary of my dear mother’s death.  My own can not be far distant. I earnestly entreat that none of my friends will wear mourning for me.

January 1, 1858.—­Outwardly all looks dark—­health at the lowest—­brain irritated and suffering inexpressibly—­but underneath all, thank God, some patience, some resignation, some quiet trust.  If it were not for wearing out my friends!  But this care, too, I must learn to cast on Him.

5th.—­Albert is reading Miss Bronte’s Life to me, and oh, how many chords vibrate deep in my soul as I hear of her shyness; her dread of coming in contact with others; her morbid sensitiveness and intense suffering from lowness of spirits; her thirst for knowledge, her consciousness of personal defects, etc., etc., etc.

9th.—­Storms to-day “like mad.”  Present from Julia Willis.  Each day seems a week long, but let me be thankful that I have a chair to sit in, limbs free from palsy, books of all sorts to be read, and kind friends to read.  Oh, yes; let me be thankful.  A. brought “School-days at Rugby.” 22d.—­Eddy began to wear his coat!  A. read to me Tom Brown’s “School-days.” 23d.—­LOVE is the word that fills my horizon to-day.  God is Love; I must be like Him. Feb. 3d.—­How lovely seem the words DUTY and KIGHT!  How I long to be spotless—­all pure within and without!...  Albert read from Adolph Monod.  What a precious book! 23d.—­To-morrow I shall be forty-six years old.  If I said one hundred I should believe it as well. 24th.—­My birthday....  I feel disposed to take as my motto