Notwithstanding this, and other solemn lessons which the Lord was teaching me at this time, I was still restless and unhappy.  I felt as if my life, with its work, was cut off in the very beginning of its usefulness, and that there was no more for me to do.  As the weather became hot with the advancing summer, I was more and more dejected in mind and body.  I lived now among strangers, and had no settled occupation, nor could I apply myself to study.

One very hot and dusty afternoon, as I was slowly toiling up a steep hill, two women overtook me; and as they were passing, I heard one say to the other, in a very sad and disheartened tone, “I wish I had never been born;” and the other responded much in the same spirit, though I could not hear what she said.  A fellow-reeling makes us wondrous kind, and has the effect of drawing out our sympathies.  I followed these poor women, and when we were on the top of the hill, I spoke to them, and then added, “You seem very weary.  Will you come in and take a cup of tea and rest a little?” They thanked me, and consented.  So I took them into the house, and asked for some tea.  While it was being prepared, I said to them, “I overheard you talking on the road as you passed me.  Do you really wish you had never been born?” The poor woman who had uttered these words burst into tears; and as soon as she could command her feelings sufficiently, she told me her sad tale of sorrow and trouble.  She was a soldier’s wife, as was also the other, and they were both in the same distress.  “Well,” I said, “trouble does not spring out of the ground; and we may be equally sure that God, who sends, or at least permits it, does so for our good.  One thing is certain, that if we humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God, He can and will lift us up, for He has promised to do so.  He will make all things work together for our good, if we trust Him.”  I then asked them if they had given their hearts to God.

One of them said, “Ah, that is what I ought to have done long ago; I know a deal better than I do.  I was brought up well, no mistake; but I was giddy, and went after the red-coats, and married an ungodly man, and now I am suffering for it.”

“Dear woman,” I said, “you may thank God for hedging up your path.  He might have given you over to prosperity and a false happiness, or left you altogether.  Thank God that it is not worse with you; and give Him your heart.  Do you believe that the Lord Jesus died for you?” She would not speak.  Then I turned to the other, who was also crying, and said, “Do you believe?”

“I did once,” she said, in a dejected tone; “but I have gone back from everything.”

By this time their tea was ready, so I refreshed them with it; and after that we resumed our conversation and united in prayer.  They both gave their hearts to God.  I found that they lived not far off, so I had the opportunity of seeing them from time to time, and was able to instruct and cheer them on their way.  I can see now how God was speaking to me through these women; but somehow I did not hear or recognize His voice then.