Christ. Yet this was done with great trembling, and more from a solemn determination to live for his glory, than with any hope of gracious acceptance. She felt a desire to be devoted to him and his cause, although she knew nothing of the comfort which others had in the Christian life. It cost her a severe trial to discharge this duty; but from the moment she had resolved upon it, and thus acknowledged to others God's right in her, she seemed in some degree lightened of her burden. Yet even at this time, she could take no part with her female friends in their meetings for prayer, though she was a frequent attendant on such occasions. About this period, she met a pious clergyman, a native of Germany, who had once suffered great spiritual despondency, but who, by unceasing resort to God, had obtained deliverance, and enjoy ed undoubtedly, in the scriptural sense of the phrase, "the full assurance of faith." He was eminently a man of prayer: he lived and walked with God in a near and holy intercourse: his whole deportment and conversation were those of a pilgrim on earth, whose home is above, and whose happiness is not from this world. The similarity of their past feelings, and his description of the means by which he gained relief, won her confidence, and led her to unfold to him her discouragements, and to seek his counsel. He urged her to be constant at the throne of grace, to live very near to Christ, and even if no answer was granted to her cries, still to "pray and not to faint." His counsel was sustained by the whole tenor of his life. He was a man of great and unaffected simplicity of character, and by his devotedness and entire absorption in religion, he won the heart of every true child of God, while he commanded the respect of such as were not believers. His prayers and preaching contributed in no small degree to awaken in the hearts of some, a spirit of supplication and interest for souls, which prepared the way for still more decisive tokens of God's favor. When embarking for his native country, he sent her as his last message, a reference to Isaiah lvii. 15, "Thus saith the high and lofty One, that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, I dwell in the high and holy place; with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the hearts of the contrite ones." She followed the counsel which he had given her; and, owing to the trouble which she often found in clothing her thoughts in suitable language, she chose a passage of scripture as her standing supplication. It was the 9th verse of the 79th Psalm, and was chosen with reference both to her own situation, and that of the church and congregation. "Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of thy name: and deliver us, and purge away our sins, for thy name's sake." With her Bible spread before her, she would kneel down and dwell upon these words, and thus seek for a blessing on herself and others. Speaking of the passage, she observed, with nuch emphasis, "we need help deliverance from sin—and we must ask him to do it for his own name's sake.” The cause of God, she felt she could in some measure plead, though her own case appeared to her so hopeless. The effect on her soul was favorable; but though her way was less dark, the cloud still hung over her; nor could she yet see, as she afterwards did, with the uplifted eye of faith, the bright shining of the Sun of Righteousness. On the birth of her first and only child, which happened soon after, she was much affected by the goodness of God;-and often as she hung over his cradle, or retired with him (as she statedly did,) to the throne of grace, she made him the subject of her earnest supplications. Soon after her recovery a protracted meeting was expected to take place, and she looked forward to it with ardent desires for the spiritual good of the people, and for deliverance from her bondage of doubt and fear. When it arrived, she urged all her friends to improve the opportunity; and as she enjoyed unusual health, she was enabled to attend daily. Her feelings in behalf of others, at this time, were uncommonly strong, and as the meeting advanced, a burden seemed to lie upon her soul. In the intervals of public worship, she longed to do, what she felt was properly expected of her, to take a share in conducting the female meetings for prayer. But with her natural timidity, and doubts, and fears respecting her spiritual condition, she felt it to be too great a cross for her to bear. Her female friends took great interest in her case, and she was often the subject of their fervent wrestlings at a throne of grace. The hour of deliverance was drawing nigh. Her resort at this season was more and more to her closet-to her God; and while thus engaged, at times such an awe and reverence, such a sense of the presence of a heart-searching and holy God, seemed to rest with crushing weight upon her spirit, that she did not dare to remain alone. She appeared to expect and even to dread some overwhelming manifestation of God to her soul; and remarked afterward, that she doubted not the same peculiar blessing of deliverance, which she soon experienced, might then have been obtained, had she persevered in supplication. It was, to use her own language, such a prostration and abasement of soul before God, as she could find no words to describe. "The high and lofty One, who inhabiteth eternity," was indeed coming to the humble and contrite heart, to draw her nigh to himself with the sweet cords of his love, to revive the drooping spirit, and to enable her to lay herself upon his altar, with more entire consecration of soul than she had ever yet felt. Her anxiety for the divine blessing had now risen to so great a height, that her friends were fearful, if she did not soon obtain relief, it might be too much for her frame to bear. Her soul went forth in longings inexpressible after God's grace; and so long as her desires were not satisfied, she could give Him no rest. You saw it in her countenance-you heard it in her conversation-you marked it in her every act. The all-absorbing thought was this-I must have the blessing: I must break through this barrier: I must be fully qualified for the service of my God. Attached as she was to her little one, all that a mother could be in care and affection, and delighted as she had ever been, to linger near the sleeping child, and watch his slumbers; yet she would break away to wrestle for the greater blessing on which her desires were fastened. I It was in this state of mind, that, towards the close of the protracted meeting, she joined a small assembly for prayer, and solicited an interest in the supplications of her fellow Christians. Her appearance, and the indescribable earnestness with which she spoke, will not soon be forgotten by those who witnessed it. "My Christian friends," said she "I wish you to make me a subject of your prayers; and I wish you to pray with all the faith you have. I have a trembling hope, but I wish to have it strengthened, that may be better qualified to discharge the duties of my station." Previous to her attendance on this meeting, she had observed to her mother, "I am determined, if I can, to find my Saviour this night;" and while on her way, she felt, as she said, this thought taking entire possession of her soul, "Let God be glorified." The little circle scarcely needed so thrilling an appeal to their Christian sympathy. They knelt in prayer, and their requests were heard. It is not the writer's purpose to dwell upon the striking circumstances attendant upon the scene. It was glorious indeed, as the manifested presence of God to her soul, blessing her with his abundant grace. Her capacities were filled, and in the midst of her triumphant rejoicing, she was constrained to say, "No more, Lord; no more; thy poor servant can bear no more. To dwell on the rapturous emotions of that hour, might discourage others who would perhaps, deem such or similar ones necessary in their own case,-forgetful that God has diverse modes of operation, and that the kind, not the intensity of feeling manifested, is the tru criterion of piety. Suffice it then to say, that from this moment the cloud departed, and a light glorious as the noon-day radiance was shed over her soul. She rejoiced with "joy unspeakable and full of glory." An entire change seemed to have taken place in her feelings. Her natural timidity vanished; her reserve gave way to a lovely readiness in the communication of her thoughts and feelings; and from that period till her death, she had nothing like a shade of distrust or despondency: all was firm, assured, triumphant trust in God, and a delightful foretaste of those coming joys, for which, as it soon appeared, He was preparing her soul. She seemed to walk habitually in the light of God's countenance. Her converse with her Saviour was child-like and sweet. Her views of duty were clear and decisive. The Bible was her constant companion: she could not bear to leave it, and even while her cherished babe lay on her arms, renewing its little life from her bosom, God's word was out-spread before her. It was no longer a sealed book: his glory was written on every page. The Saviour breathed consolation and encouragement in every promise. Her closet was visited with unwonted frequency. Her natural taste for music, which had been laid aside, as painfully associated in its exercise with her days of distress and gloom, revived; and prayer and praise seemed her constant employment. The house of God was indeed a delight; and strangers who saw her, as she sat listening to the truth, or joining in devotion, marked such a blended expression of sweet humility, sincerity, and heartfelt enjoyment, that their attention was arrested, and they were often heard to say, they were sure Mrs. must be of a lovely disposition, and truly happy. Her feelings, at first so rapturous, from their contrast to the wretchedness and despondency of thirteen years, subsided gradually into that happy state of mind, so beautifully described in one of our sacred lyrics "That sweet repose, Which none but he that feels it, knows. This heavenly calm within the breast, On resuming her attendance upon the female meetings for prayer, she no longer declined her office. At once she took her place at their head, blending her prayers and observations with a power of faith, which seemed to bring down blessings on the hearts of those who were present, and to urge them to follow on in the course of holy living which she marked out for them. How did it diffuse joy over their hearts, when they heard her expressions of thankfulness for their interest in her case, and when they felt that she was all they desired, in the companion of their spiritual instructer! Not content with thus proving her willingness to do her duty, she, of her own accord, invited to her house the young female converts; and there, weekly, was she seen among them, warning them against unbelief, encouraging their trust in Christ, and exhorting them to place before themselves a high and holy standard of Christian character. It will be long before they forget the earnestness, sincerity, and kindness, that spoke in her addresses to their hearts; or the fervor and urgency with which she led them to the throne of grace, as they bowed together to seek the blessing of their common God. She dwelt upon her own past despondency, and portrayed to them, in such lively colors, the former sorrows of her soul, and the present strength of her trust, as, we doubt not, made a deep impression on their minds, of the importance of keeping near to God, and living lives of increasing piety and devotion. Nor was this the only scene in which she was tried, and where she manifested the striking change in her feelings. The once timid and disconsolate Christian now went forth with assured confidence to the bed of sickness, to whisper in the ear of the fainting and distressed, those words of heavenly consolation and promise which she had herself proved, and to breathe out in their behalf her earnest supplications for their deliverance. She had but a short time, as it afterwards appeared, to live; and, occasionally, she seemed to be conscious that such was the case. Her anxiety for the salvation of perishing souls was so great, and so pressed was she at times in spirit, that she could find no relief, but in going to her friends, and literally beseeching them to choose the way of life. The wretchedness of their condition, while out of Christ, was so strongly impressed upon her mind, that she looked upon them, in her language, exactly as she would on persons drowning before her eyes in a river, or wrapt in flames, and yet madly refusing the offered means of escape. In warning sinners, she did not fear, she said, "the face of clay; "but was now willing to go any where, and be any thing or nothing, for their salvation, as God might choose. To all around her, she breathed a spirit of enlarged benevolence, and the prosperity of Christ's kingdom lay most near her heart. Her active mind was now ever laboring to devise ways by which she might show her gratitude and his praise, and benefit others. At the call of God, she undoubtedly would, without reluctance, have bidden farewell to kindred and friends, crossed the ocean, or penetrated the desert, to live and die for Christ in foreign lands. Although her affection for her friends increased with her new-born interest in souls, yet the world and all its attractions faded in her view, and were nothing in comparison with the higher and purer sources of enjoyment which she found in Jesus her Saviour; and she never appeared so animated and happy, as when she was conversing of his rich and wondrous condescension and grace. She laid aside the costliest of her clothing, and dressed herself in her plainest apparel, seeming to wish, in every way, to manifest a humble conformity to the precepts of that Gospel which she had taken as her guide. The friends of Christ, the lowly and devoted children of God, were the most welcome to her companionship; and the more truly any appeared to love the Saviour, the more did she delight in their society. Writing to a friend, who had recently experienced religion, she says: "It was my wish and intention to have written you a few lines by my dear brother, and desired that you would join with me in praising and blessing God for what he has done for my soul. He, I doubt not, has endeavored to give you some account of the blessing which was granted me shortly before his departure; but who can disclose the unsearchable riches of Christ? Eternity itself will never reveal to us their measureless depth. Oh! what matchless condescension, that it should be given to us vile worms of the dust, thus to rejoice in God our Saviour. But such is the astonishing fact: the sure word of God declares it, and the long cloud of witnesses' testify to its truth. Since I first declared that I cherished a trembling hope in the Saviour (which was scarcely acknowledged, before it was abandoned, and which is now more than thirteen years since) my pathway of life has been beset with clouds and thick storms: the blackness of darkness has brooded over me, despair and the terrors of the pit: truly and indeed "I found trouble and sorrow." But thanks be unto God who has at length given me the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Oh! my friend, how can I give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name? Never, never until time with me shall be no more, and my song of glory shall commence at the portals of heaven, and the foretaste which has been given me of my crown of rejoicing shall be lost in the fruition of the paradise of God! I felt that I could no longer remain satisfied with the measures of grace that had been given me, and my doubtful hope of acceptance with God; and hungering and thirsting like the prodigal, and like the Syrophenician woman willing to accept of the crumbs, and feeling that they were too good for me, I sought with agonizing supplication my Saviour. Is it at all incredible, that thus coming I should find Him? No! I had the promise of God, that thus seeking I should find, and though perplexed, I was not in despair as heretofore, but had just strength enough to carry me to the cross, to the bleeding Lamb of God; and having found him, and being found of him, was it strange that joy-joy extatic-heavenly joy, |