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LETTERS OF LIFE.
that bide the winter. Before, stretches the shining shore. The shadowy valley between seems not worthy to come into remembrance. Past, present, and future, concur like three harmonies. May their grateful ascription never end!
"But oh! Eternity's too short,
To utter all Thy praise."
Sweet Friend! to whose prompting and continued urgency these letters of life owe their existence, if you shall have patience to read them, I bless you. If you have not, I bless you. Your affection has been a sunbeam and a song in the house of my pilgrimage. Our Father in Heaven repay you fourfold, and give you a mansion where these poor instrumentalities of pen and ink are no longer needed to express the love that never dies. Good-bye! Good-bye!
L. H. S.
