1856.—­[A few lines written at the commencement of this year, contain the following reference to a circumstance, which, trivial as it was in itself, had nearly occasioned the loss of her sight.]

  Time rushes on!  Another scene appears! 
  In springtide thought, I stood upon the hearth;
  “When in a moment, from the crackling flame
  A piece of burning ore flew in my eye,
  And suddenly eclipsed the light of day. 
  But He who opened blind men’s eyes of old,
  Restored my sight. * * * *

“I am sensible of the want of gratitude for the sight I have; though it is but imperfect, I can, by close attention, read my Bible, which at first was all I desired.—­Visited two of my members, each of whom has had a fit, one being deprived of the left hand, and the other of the right;—­humbling cause of gratitude that I can use mine.

  Youth with all its hopes is past,
    And middle life-with care;
  Now, in feeble age, I cast
    My all on God by prayer. 
  Exiled yet a little while,
    But guided by His eye;
  Happy I live beneath His smile,
    And happier still—­shall die.”

“My meditations this morning have been sweet, on the words, ’Thou shalt also be a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God.’  I cannot increase God’s glory; but I—­a worm—­in the hand of my God, become crowned with glory.—­My niece Caroline has departed this life.  In a lucid moment, one asked, if Christ was precious; she answered, ‘Yes’ It was added, ’Just such a Saviour as you need?’ ‘Exactly,’ was the reply.—­I have given up my own house, and removed to my daughter Eliza’s hoping the blessing of the Lord will attend the change.  My mind has, beyond my expectation, been preserved in peace.—­Came with my daughter to Haxby, for the benefit of a change.  O that Thou wouldst bless my coming to one soul!—­Called upon Mrs. S., and was glad to find her desirous of knowing the truth, as also her daughter.  I feel peculiarly drawn out in prayer, on behalf of the inhabitants of this village.  Oh! that a glorious revival may break out here.—­The means of grace are not so plentiful in Haxby as in the city; but here I enjoy the quiet of retirement, and breathe a purer atmosphere.  Often the Spirit wafts me on to the better land, and I contemplate with pleasure my everlasting home.”

[Who can tell what shall be on the morrow?  But a few weeks elapsed after this visit to Haxby, when her daughter Eliza, whose loving and gentle spirit endeared her to all who knew her, was taken away at a stroke.  On the day on which the following entry is dated, she had exhibited an unusual degree of vivacity; and with great confidence borne testimony in the class to the power of the grace of God.]