 | Berkeley papers |  |
After waiting for the arrival of the mail with some
anxiety in hopes of receiving a letter, I was more than satisfied
by getting two, from a hand that I much love to see. I sent to the
Office Saturday night but the trifling boy, Bob, brought no answer,
although now, I am sure, the letter you wrote in Staunton must have
been there. I was rather pleased to hear that you did not have to
preach Sunday night, as the anxiety you would have felt might have
undone in a measure the good effects of your trip.
But the request you made of me in reference to that
sermon I do not consider as concerning that one alone. I shall always
as far as I am able connect you with myself in my attempt to
pray. Ever since we were married and indeed before, I have tried
daily to ask for you those blessings which some directly from Heaven
and tend to make us all supremely happy. I have often feared that
it might be wrong in me who know not how to pray to venture to ask
for such things for another—but then again it seemed that it was
right—that in praying for myself I ought to pray for others, above
all for one so dear to my heart as my husband.
I wrote to you of my troubles Saturday. Sunday morning
came and I had not yet made up my mind, I wanted to go but was
afraid I was too anxious to make myself a Christian—I didn't want
to go, for fear that others might think I considered myself such &
I knew that all I could say was that I desired to be a Christian.
When the hour drew near, Grandma asked me if I was not going & said
yes I must go in answer to my objections, then Aunt Mary Jane asked
me and with her advice in addition I determined to attend. We went
together to the Church where there are two class rooms—one of them
we entered and found that Mr. Wheelwright would lead. It was the
first time I had even been since I was a very small child and I felt
very solemn, & desirous of finding it of benefit to me. The feelings
with which I left however were not what I had anticipated. I felt
humiliated, more disposed to sorrow than be comforted; and I believe
it did me good, for I fear I have been too much inclined to think I
had become a Christian than I had any right to do. I believe that
in my heart I wanted some one to tell me that I was converted, even
although I knew that would do no good unless I had the evidence in
myself that I was changed, born of the Spirit.
I am not discouraged though, for the promises still
hold good to those who are striving to come to God through the
merits of his Son. Seek and ye shall find is the language of Christ
himself, the God that cannot lie, and by his grace I shall hope that
he will not always be angry with me and that I may yet say,
His pardoning voice I hear
He owns me for his child
I can no longer fear
And Father, Abba, Father cry.
I have taken a great deal of room but I know that this page is for
the eye of one who will sympathise with every feeling here expressed,
and who would rather his wife should write them, than keep it all
closed up in her own breast.
Sunday morning Mr. Wheelwright preached from Lamentations
111.39.40, a good sermon but not at all extraordinary. In the
afternoon Linarsed Lida and at night went to prayer meeting, which
is always a pleasant thing to me. Monday, the whole family including
me went hard to work for Aunt Caroline as she had concluded to go
with a party which was to leave this morning. We hoped to make the
greater part of a dress for her, but after all, she & Cousin Fanny
together will have to spend some time on it to finish it. She packed
up last night and set off immediately after a very early breakfast
this morning. I gave her $2 to purchase some worsteds for mats for
my piano and some edging. Tell Mary if she wants anything she had
better write soon as she does not expect to stay more than three
weeks if she comes back here, but perhaps she will go to the University
on her return. From Cousin Fanny's last letter I think she
will certainly return to Harrisonburg this fall, she seemed to be
cuite homesick.
You will be sorry to hear that both Lida and Mother
have been complaining a good deal since you left. Lida's cold
troubles her at night so much that I have to give her hive-syrup
and have her neck and breast rubbed with Oil & Camphor. She has
waxen kernels under her ears which have very much the appearance of
Mumps. Martha says she must go home with her baby as mountain air
seems to have such a bad effect. My complaint is of a different sort.
You may recollect that I was talking a good deal about my tongue.
As it continued to grow worse I was becoming very uneasy, fearing
it might be Thrash as Aunt Mary said it looked like hers, so Sunday
night I took a good dose of Rhubarb & Magnesia, which made me very
sick in the might but made me feel better by breakfast time. My
tongue though is very sore still, but not so painful as it was Sunday.
I hope it will not last long and at least prove to be of no
serious character, such a thing as the Thrash for instance, to last
for months. My cold is better and I am very well except my tongue,
so that you must not feel uneasy about your little family when we
are surrounded by Doctors too. Grandma says I must tell you, Your
Grandma says you had better come back as Uncle William has never
thought of the Corn since you left. We all laughed at your being so
much disturbed about it. When Papa comes I reckon he will see to it
so it will all be well yet. I believe Uncle William will wait until
then to decide about Harry. I am sorry I could not see Grandma &
Grandpa again, but it could not be well arranged for me to see them
now I suppose, as they left this morning, according to their plan
when I left & when you wrote. Aunt Caroline will be in Baltimore
when they get there I reckon, but not in the same direction. Give my
love to Ma, Mary, Mr. Smith and the boys. I shall hope to hear again
through Papa from you. I should have written yesterday but for being
so busy. I hope you will not find this letter so illegibly written
as the one to Mama.
Your fondly attached wife
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