Nov. 12th.—­I have been very unwell and low-spirited.  The cause of this, folks seem to agree, was over-exertion during mother’s sickness.  To tell the truth, I was so anxious about her that I did not try to save my strength at all, and excitement kept me up, so that I was not conscious of any special fatigue till all was over and the reaction came, when I just went into a dead-and-alive state and had the “blues” outrageously.  It seemed as if I could do nothing but fold my hands and cry.

Sister is coming home this winter.  I would like you to see this letter of hers.  She is as nearly a perfectionist now as your father is.  She begs me to read the New Testament and to pray for a knowledge of the truth.  And so I have for a year and a half, and this is what I learn thereby:  “The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked”—­at least such I find mine to be.  To be sure, that I am not perfect is no proof that I may not become so; however, I feel most sympathy with those who, like Martyn, Brainerd, and my father, had to fight their way through.  Yet her remarks threw my mind into great confusion at first and I knew not what to do; thereupon I went at once with my difficulties to the Lord and tried to seek the truth, whatever it might be, from Him.  It seems to me that I am safe while in His hands, and that if those things are essential, He will not withhold them from me.  Truly, if there is a royal road to holiness, and if in one moment of time sin may be crushed and forever slain, I of all others should know it; for at present the way is thronged with difficulties. [2] It seems to me that I am made of wants”—­I need everything.  At the same time, how great is the goodness of God to me!  I long to have my heart so filled with the one single image of my Redeemer, that it shall ever flow in spontaneous adoration.  Such a Saviour!  I am pained to the very depths of my soul because I love Him so little....  If I am only purified and made entirely the Lord’s, let Him take His own course and make the refining process ever so painful.

  “When the shore is won at last,
  Who will count the billows past?”

Dec. 16th.—­Do you remember what father said about losing his will when near the close of his life?  That remark has always made the subject of a lost will interesting to me.  There is another place where he wishes he had known this blessedness twenty years before. [3]

Dec. 18th.—­“I am very, very happy; and yet it is hardly a happiness which I can describe.  You know what it is to rejoice in the sweet consciousness that there is a Saviour—­a near and a present Saviour; and thus am I now rejoicing; grateful to Him for His holy nature, for His power over me, for His dealings with me, for a thousand things which I can only try to express to Him.  Oh, how excellent above all treasures does He now appear!  One minute of nearness to the Lord Jesus contains more of delight than years spent in intercourse with any earthly friend.  I could not but own to-night that God can make me happy without a right hand or a right eye.  Lord, make me Thine, and I will cheerfully give Thee all.