All of the frangible, gentlewomanly qualities one associates with the once greatly admired works of Anne Morrow Lindbergh are abundantly evident here in the diaries and letters she wrote during the years she was at Smith College and after -- the constant search for ""beauty,"" ""joy,"" ""serenity"" with an occasional downswing (her initial ""spiritual loneliness"" or her failure to do as well as she would have liked -- the Morrows were highminded tutelary pacesetters); and the pitchpipe affinity with the wonders of nature. They bloom throughout -- ""lavender sweet peas. . . fragile winged and yet so still"" or ""forsythia. Pure, undiluted, untouched joy"" or just the fields, a ""thrillingly"" colorfast green. But there are other points of interest -- her travels in Europe and Mexico; her ultimate reward of the Jordan prize for creative writing; and of course the first meeting with ""Colonel Lindbergh. . . a very nice boy. . . not at all 'intellectual' and not of my world"" to be followed by the excitement of her love for him when she discovered his ""power,"" ""dignity,"" ""freshness,"" ""modesty,"" and great ""vision."" The diary ends with her decision to marry him. Any spontaneously unschooled material such as this can really not be faulted for what it so sentimentally is and unoriginally isn't and while it is impossible to cut through the cloy, one is reminded of the great acceptance it found in Gift from the Sea and one understands better than ever why she has again chosen the unicorn as emblematic of the chastity and purity of her vision.