May God enable you to dwell on this till you are satisfied--glad, and not sorry! That the spirits do not go far, and that they love us still, has grown to me surer and surer.

And yet, how death shakes us! Yes indeed.

I, too, have been very, very sad.

This Christmas has come to me like a cloud.

I can scarcely fancy England without that bright face and sympathetic hand, that princely nature, in which you might put your trust more reasonably than in princes.