To a friend slighted in love, she writes—­

Alas my friend! what can I say to cheer?  What sound is sweet to a distracted ear?  Turn from the creature, disappointed, turn:  Lament your folly,—­deeply humbled mourn, Your disregard of Him, who died to gain Your worthless heart, and bid you love again.  O! turn to him, who gave himself for you, Your love, your heart, your life, are all his due; No fickleness or change in him is known, He loves and will for ever love his own; Here place your treasure, and here find your rest, Make God your all, and be for ever blest.

“1812.—­Through grace I am resolved on the side of virtue.  I have peace in God, and a growing desire to imitate him in my daily walk; but no marvel if all my best actions need purging from their dross.  I seem all pollution; yet my soul lays hold upon the Saviour, who alone is able to purify my nature.  On February 3rd, my sister Anna died, eleven years old.  I was called to witness the pleasing, painful, awful scene.  While kneeling by her bed, after a paroxysm of extreme agony, as she had a moment’s respite, my mother said; ’Ask her if she is happy to lift up her hand.’  She did instantly and said, ‘A kiss,’ and so turned recollectedly to each, with a smiling countenance, while her dying lips were but just sensible of the impression; then after another short struggle she sweetly fell asleep in Jesus.  So I alone am left to tell it.”

1813.—­After adverting to a number of painful circumstances, she adds:—­“Praise God, the seizure of my own body, though by far the most painful of these occurrences, has been the greatest blessing.  On the first attack I was stupified—­but the Lord liberated me and supplied grace in the hour of need.  Thus have I experienced how suddenly the Lord can take away the choicest of all blessings, health.  Being through mercy again restored, my soul derives its happiness from God.  I see before me broad rivers and streams springing from that fountain, whence all solid comfort flows; but great weakness, much unfaithfulness, many omissions and errors in myself.  Lord increase my faith, that I may enter the holiest by the blood of Jesus.  For some time I have met in band with Mrs. W. We have had many precious seasons together.—­A circumstance occurring which was misconstrued, put me suddenly out of temper, and caused me much pain of mind, besides displeasing others together with my dear partner.  O my God, but for Thy blood, I should lose all hope of eternal happiness; yet blot not, I beseech Thee, my name out of the book of life; but if ever my heart went with my words, I entreat Thee,—­

  “Chase this self-will through all my heart,
    Through all its latent mazes there.”

“1814.—­Reflecting on the past—­my mercies and ingratitude, my warnings and neglect, my privileges and non-improvements, my affliction and restoration to health, Thy love, O God, in ten thousand instances, and my small affection, I wonder why I am still the object of Thy care, but I see the cause in Jesus’ blood.  There the reason lies.  O might I here my nature lose, and gain the Infinite.”