“Yesterday,” she writes, “I met my class, and think it was a profitable meeting to all.  One of them has entertained a hope for about a year.  She asked me if I thought it wrong to plant geraniums?  I told her I had no time for such things.  She then said that she had once taken great pleasure in cultivating them, but lately she had felt so much condemnation that she had given it up entirely.  Another professed to have some little hope in the Saviour, and remarked that I had changed her views with regard to dress very much, that she had taken off her rings and flounces, and hoped never to wear them again.  Her hat also distressed her.  It was almost new, and she could not afford to get another.  I told her if she would send it to me I would try to change it.  Two others came who felt a little, but are still asleep.  A good work is evidently begun.  May it be carried triumphantly on.”

Towards spring she began to absent herself from the weekly prayer-meetings, to stop her active charities, and to withdraw herself more from the family and social circle.  In April she writes in her diary:—­

“My mind is composed, and I cannot but feel astonished at the total change which has passed over me in the last six months.  I once delighted in going to meeting four and five times every week, but now my Master says, ‘Be still,’ and I would rather be at home; for I find that every stream from which I used to drink the waters of salvation is dry, and that I have been led to the fountain itself.  And is it possible, I would ask myself to-night, is it possible that I have this day paid my last visit to the Presbyterian Church? that I have taught my interesting class for the last time?  Is it right that I should separate myself from a people whom I have loved so tenderly, and who have been the helpers of my joy?  Is it right to give up instructing those dear children, whom I have so often carried in the arms of faith and love to the throne of grace?  Reason would sternly answer, No, but the Spirit whispers, ‘Come out from among them!’ I am sure if I refuse the call of my Master to the Society of Friends, I shall be a dead member in the Presbyterian Church.  I have read none of their books for fear of being convinced of their principles, but the Lord has taught me Himself, and I feel that He who is Head over all things, has called me to follow Him into the little silent meeting which is in this city.”

And into the little silent meeting she went,—­little, indeed, as the only regular attendants were two old men; and silent, chiefly because between these two there was a bitter feud, and the communion of spirit was naturally preferred to vocal intercession.