s' Meeting.
A New York Waif. Summer in the Country. Letters. _Little Susy's Little
Servants._ Extracts from her Journal. "Alone with God."

The records of the year 1856 are singularly full and interesting. It was
a year of poignant suffering, of sharp conflicts of soul, and of great
peace and joy. Its earlier months, especially, were shadowed by a dark
cloud of anxiety and distress. And her feeble bodily state caused by
care-worn days and sleepless nights, added to the trouble. Old sorrows,
too, came back again. On the 16th of January, the anniversary of Eddy's
death, she gave vent to her feelings in some pathetic verses, of which
the following lines form a part:

Four years, four weary years, my child,
Four years ago to-night,
With parting cry of anguish wild
Thy spirit took its flight; ah me!
Took its eternal flight.

And in that hour of mortal strife
I thought I felt the throe,
The birth-pang of a grief, whose life
Must soothe my tearless woe, must soothe
And ease me of my woe.

Yet folded far through all these years,
Folded from mortal eyes,
Lying alas "too deep for tears,"
Unborn, unborn it lies, within
My heart of heart it lies.

My sinless child! upon thy knees
Before the Master pray;
Methinks thy infant hands might seize
And shed upon my way sweet peace;
Sweet peace upon my way.

Here follow some extracts from her journal.

_Jan 3d. 1856._--Had no time to write on New Year's day, as we had a
host of callers. It was a very hard day, as I was quite unwell, and had
at last to give up and go to bed.

_15th_--Am quite uneasy about baby, as it seems almost impossible she
should long endure such severe pain and want of sleep. My life is a
very anxious one. I feel every day more and more longing for my home
in heaven. Sometimes I fear it amounts almost to a sinful longing--for
surely I ought to be willing to live or die, just as God pleases.

_Feb. 1st._--I have had no heart to make a record of what has befallen
us since I last wrote. And yet I may, sometime, want to recall this
experience, painful as it is. Dear little baby had been improving in
health, and on Wednesday we went to dine at Mrs. Wainright's. We went at
four. About eight, word came that she was ill. When I got home I found
her insensible, with her eyes wide open, her breathing terrific, and her
condition in every respect very alarming. Just as Dr. Buck was coming
in, she roused a little, but soo