in an especial manner in the early stages of life.  I heard all; but such was my dejection that I seemed to receive little, though I could not but feel the power.  I seemed incapable of taking either hope or instruction to myself.  J.J. left us after dinner, and, on taking leave, took my hand in a very solemn manner, and, after a few minutes silence, said, tenderly, but authoritatively, “If the mantle falls on thee, wear;” words which will long live in my heart.  Would that the power which sent them may fulfil them!  None other can.

7th Mo. 1st.  Last week at Plymouth Quarterly Meeting.  An interesting time.  I trust that which silenced and solemnized my spirit was something better than myself.  What could I do but endeavor to lie down in passiveness under it, and crave that nothing might interfere to mar the work of the Lord?  Much was said to encourage the hope that those who truly love the Lord will at length be brought into more peace and liberty in Him; that He will qualify them to fill just that place He designs for them in His house.  Oh, how I long to become that, and that only, which pleases Him, that neither height nor depth might separate me from His love!  And when I think of the deceitfulness of my heart, the danger of being lifted up seems so appalling that the former deliverance seems yet greater than the latter.

7th Mo. 23d.  I have been glad to be released from some of my charges and cares, as well as to share the loving interests of home with all my dear sisters, and trust it is not all laziness which makes me shrink from engaging in new though useful objects.  I seem to have much need of quiet, and have enjoyed many hours with dear F.’s precious children.  Often, as now, I am very destitute, and sometimes very sad; but sometimes, though rarely, “all is peace.”  Long shall I remember a moonlight half-hour, on Sixth-day, in the fields and garden, where I sat down to enjoy the cool of the day, and for a time all sorrow was far away, and the very “Prince of Peace” did seem to reign.  Then did I feel I had not followed “a cunningly-devised fable,” and the precious words did comfort me, “If children, then heirs.”  But, oh, how otherwise I often am! how utterly destitute!  This day we have had a sweet little visit from ——.  His encouragement to the tribulated children saluted my best life, overborne as it felt with the burden of unregenerate nature—­ready to say, “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” and, amid many a giving way to the worryings of earthly thoughts, struggling to say, “Lord, I believe:  help thou mine unbelief.”  Often have I remembered dear Sarah Tuckett’s encouraging words, “But through all, and underneath all, will be the everlasting Arms.”  Amen, and amen.

8th Mo. 4th. Still, still amen, says my poor weak spirit, in the remembrance of “goodness tried so long,” of the faithful love of my heavenly Father, which melted my spirit