* * * I know well that impatience will sometimes put on the pretence of something much better, and that we shall never run to good purpose unless we "run with patience." Unhappily, a slow gradual progress is sadly opposed to my inconstant nature, and after one of the many interruptions it meets with, how prone am I to wish for some flying leap to make up for the past! It seems so hard a thing to get transformed, and therefore—strange inconsistency indeed—one would be translated. But truly it might be said, "Ye know not what ye ask." * * * I have been interested with reading the early part of "No Cross, no Crown," and especially the chapter on lawful self, where the receiving back again, as Abraham did Isaac, the lawful pleasures which had been resigned to the Divine will, is so nicely spoken of; and I do believe it explains the cause of half the gloom of would-be Christians. They do not quite refuse, nor quite resign their hearts, and so they are kept, not only without true peace, but without the enjoyment of those earthly goods which have been called for, not to deprive their owners of them, but to be restored in this life "an hundredfold." How is it to be wished that these half measures were abandoned, and that if we have put our hand to the plough, we might not look back, as we so often have done, to the unfitting ourselves for that kingdom which is not only righteousness, but peace and joy. "That your joy may be full," is plainly the purpose of our Saviour towards His children; and yet how many, as Macaulay says, "have just enough religion to make them unhappy when they do wrong, and yet not enough to induce them to do right."
5th Mo. 28th. It is an unspeakable blessing to be permitted and enabled to pray. How can I be sufficiently thankful that it has been mine? Last night my heart was fervently engaged towards my God; and this evening, though the sense of my utter destitution and weakness was very painful, was it not a blessing if it led me to Him? I have thought of the test, "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength." There is danger in fleshly confidence; yet there is no strength, but a new danger in fleshly fear. Oh, I would be stripped of all fleshly dispositions of whatever kind, or however specious: they war against the soul; but because mine enemy has not quite triumphed over me, may I not believe that He favoreth me in whose favor is life, and whose is a faithful love? Oh for its perfect dominion in me! His will is my sanctification, my perfection. It is His "good pleasure to give me the kingdom"—even to me. Amazing grace! What in me but my greatest foe could hinder the full adoption of the prayer, "Thy will be done"?
6th Mo. 3d. The little measure of faith I have is not worn out, but rather purified and strengthened; but, oh, when I think of the reality, the momentous import, of the change of nature from sin to holiness, which has to be effected, what a baptism may I not have yet to be baptized with, and what perils to pass through! Oh, if it might please my heavenly Father to shorten and hasten the process, and deliver me from earth and its dangers into a changeless state of safety and peace in His dear presence! But I do believe He would rather be glorified by living Christians than by only dying penitents. A watchful, holy life is His delight. Oh that this high calling may not be slighted or cast away! The near approach of my birthday has led me to look back over the brief notes of twelve months. The interesting details we have received of the Yearly Meeting remind me of what I felt at the conclusion of the last. The Lord has again been with the Church's gathering, faithful as of old, and, where seats were vacant, hath filled His people with joy.
6th Mo. 5th. I wish simply to record how last night, when in bed, I was favored with a calm, watchful frame, and lay enjoying the mental repose till long after my usual hour of sleep. This morning at breakfast-time it was renewed, with a sweet sense of the willingness of our heavenly Father to enable His children to serve Him. He made them for that end: it is His will that they should do so. It cannot be that He will refuse them the indispensable assistance. How sweet was this feeling! but hurry, and too much care about little things, sadly dissipated me in the day. This evening I have had a gracious gift of some of those Sabbath feelings again, after reading the seventeenth chapter of Jeremiah. The verses referring to the Sabbath-day, and bearing no burden therein, were solemnly instructive. The utter inability of my natural heart to attain or retain such a state shows me the necessity of all being done for me through faith in Divine power, "His name, through faith in His name." Oh for watchfulness unto prayer continually, and that the cumber of earth may be cast away! "Take heed that your flight be not in the winter," has been my watchword, though how imperfectly obeyed! and if, through infinite mercy, the season be changing, if He who has faithfully kept me from utter death there-through is beginning to give me more of rest, oh, let me never forget the solemn addition, "neither on the Sabbath day."
6th Mo. 13th. * * * I wish now to record the very solemn and encouraging visit of James Jones from America to our meeting this day. How wondrously did he speak of trials and afflictions, and the necessity of entire resignation through all! Though oceans of discouragement and mountains of difficulty loom up before thee, thou wilt be brought through the depths dry-shod, and be enabled to adopt the language, "What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest, and ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams?" Thou wilt be "led through green pastures, and beside still waters," speaking of the call to service in the Church, which he believed was to some 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 on the morning of Fifth-day week, with the blessed hope that I had not followed "a cunningly-devised fable" in seeking a nearer union with my Saviour. I little thought what was awaiting me that day—a very important proposal from ——, put into my hands by my father. After glancing at the contents, I laid it aside, to seek for a little calmness before reading it, and needed all that morning's manna to strengthen my conviction, "Thou art my Father." Into His hands I have sought to commit myself and my all, trusting that a covenant with everlasting love will not be marred by aught beneath the skies. Some precious feelings have I since enjoyed; "And one of them shall not fall to the ground without your Father," "Ye are of more value than many sparrows," have been almost daily in my heart. On Sixth-day, after spending the afternoon in the country with a cheerful party, before going to bed, such a blessed sense of my heavenly Father's presence and love was vouchsafed me, that every uneasy thought was swallowed up in-the precious conviction, "I know in whom I have believed." This love did indeed appear the "pearl of great price," and all else as "dust in the balance."
8th Mo. 20th. Last week I was once or twice favored with a precious feeling of Divine love. At one time my earnest sense of need and desire to seek Him to whom I could appeal amid many a recollection of past transgressions, in the words, "Thou knowest that I love thee," was most sweetly followed by the remembrance of the words, "I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals; when thou wentest after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown." At another time the precious promise, "Because thou hast made the Lord thy habitation, there shall no evil befall thee," came livingly before me, and then I felt how far short of the terms I had fallen. Oh, how preciously did I feel the worth of an atonement! how my Saviour's pardon did not only remove the burden of guilt, but really reinstate me in the privileges which my backslidings had forfeited, so that the promise of safety was still mine! * * *
9th. Mo. 20th. [Alluding to a visit from some friends.] How precious are these marks of our Father's love! His eye is surely on us, and His hand too, for good. May we never, may I never, do any thing to frustrate His merciful designs! Very various has been my state—so dead and earthly, sometimes, that I may indeed feel that in me "dwelleth no good thing," but now and then so filled with desires after God, that I feel assured that they come from Himself.