2d mo. Dear father seems near his eternal joy. He told me to-day that he had been thinking I had a prospect of some service in a distant land, and wished to know if I thought of such a thing. As I had not named it to any one, and felt restrained from speaking of it, I hesitated, but at length opened my feelings, at which he seemed introduced into much sympathy, and desired me to be faithful, and then placed his hands upon me, and poured out a fervent prayer to our Father in heaven on my behalf for His holy presence to go with me, and His almighty power to keep me from all evil. It was a solemn season, for the painful and yet happy thought mingled in this communion that when my frail bark must venture on dangerous seas his would be for ever anchored on the shore of immortal joy.
This day I have been summoned to my sainted father's bed of death. He was happy, full of heavenly peace, and, resting his ransomed spirit on his Saviour's breast, there breathed his life sweetly away. Our loss is great, but his gain glorious.
2d mo. We have conveyed his cherished form to its last resting-place, and Jesus was with us and presided over all. Oh let his name be praised and his matchless goodness be adored.
3d mo. My dear brother Augustine, whose health has been declining for some years, seems rapidly following father, at which our hearts are so stricken that sorrow's bitter tears, fast falling on a sainted father's grave, are even shared by our dearest brother, on whose cheek flushes the crimson hectic omen of dissolution. The painful thought of the departure of our dear brother, the last earthly prop of the family, seemed agonizing to our hearts. While these afflictive dispensations are meted out, my spirit dwells in the great depths of self-abasedness, and bears upon it too the burden of a Saviour's love to sinners in a far-distant land. Oh fix the trust of my tempest-tossed soul immutably upon the unchanging Rock!
To-day I have returned from visiting my sweet brother. He thankfully acknowledges the mercy of being so calm and comfortable, though rapidly hasting to the silent grave. Soon after the Lord saw fit to plunge his soul into deep baptism for its purification. His distress seemed entirely indescribable, but, being encouraged to believe it was a refining process, though thus painful, to prepare him to partake more fully of the joys of God's salvation, his faith seemed strengthened to hope for mercy and deliverance in the Lord's time; which time at last came, and ushered in the dawn of a glorious morning without clouds. His heart was full of songs of joy. His constant theme was the unsearchable riches of Christ. One day when I entered his sick-room, he exclaimed, "Dear sister, I am glad to see thee: I want to tell thee the joy of my soul. I have heard the language, as intelligibly as anything I hear with my outward ear, 'Speak comfortably unto Jerusalem, cry unto her that her warfare is accomplished, her iniquity is pardoned, for she hath received at the Lord's hand double for all her sin;' and, though I am most unworthy, I believe this is applied to me, for my peace flows like a river." He lived about five weeks from this time, and had indeed no more conflicts; not a doubt or a cloud obstructed the continual shining of the glorious Sun of Righteousness. He often said that he was as full of songs of joy as his poor heart could hold.
Deep baptisms abide me, and such a painful sense is given me of my own inability and nothingness that I am ready to shrink from attempting to open the subject to my friends. My poor tempest-tossed soul dwells near the valley and shadow of death. Liberia seems to press upon my mind, but can all this be called for at such weak hands?
I have omitted to mention in its place a testimony of my dear brother's to me a short time before his death. In an interview together he thus expressed himself: "Dear sister, I have thought for some time past that the Master had a service for thee in distant lands across the ocean, and I have this to say to thee: Go with thy life in thy hand. It should not concern thee whether thou sees thy native land again or not: heaven is as near there as here. Go and tell the sinner of a Saviour's love; bear the good tidings to lands afar off. I wish you to make timely arrangements, so as to move along quietly." I replied: "Dear brother, I do not wish to repine at my lot, but I have been thinking that thou art soon to be released from the conflict, and that I must remain still longer in the field, and may make some misstep and never reach thy glorious home." To which he replied, looking at me most impressively: "The dear Saviour will never leave thee; He will never leave thee, but when thy work is finished he will bring thee to meet me in heaven." This seemed a renewed evidence that the service was required, but so deep was my sense of frailty and entire inability to do the work that I could not believe that the Master would select me to go on such an important embassy, a service of such vast moment. The evidence had been very clear, but the feeling of unfitness for the work seemed to hedge up the way entirely, and I thought unless some person would come to me and tell me the Lord required it and would fit me for the work, I would not take a step. I thought I could not receive it but from some one clothed with gospel authority; and in looking over this class I selected dear Benjamin Seebohm, who I knew was somewhere in America. I was very much reduced in health, attributable to painful watchings and partings, for I slept little and had little appetite for food. Our monthly meeting day arrived, and, though my health was so frail that I had gotten out to meeting but little for some time, I felt an almost irresistible impression to go. I accordingly went. As I entered the door almost the first person I met was Benjamin Seebohm. I could not have been more surprised at the appearance of any person. In a moment my request rushed into my mind, and thought I, "I am caught now; I have done wrong in asking this sign, and may the Lord forgive me and in mercy overlook this presumption, and not grant the request unless it is His will, in condescension to my low estate." The meeting gathered under a great solemnity. It seemed to me that this weighty service fell upon it, and after a time of very solemn silence dear Benjamin arose and took up an individual case, and so exactly described my feelings and the service that no doubt remained but the Most High had sent him with this message to me. My soul was poured out like water and all my bones shook. I thought all present knew it was I, though not one but my husband had been apprised of it (it having been to me too sacred a thing to speak of). Indeed, I thought I was a spectacle for men and angels, while the thoughts of my heart were revealed before many witnesses and the work of the Lord proclaimed in demonstration of the Spirit and with power. He spoke most cheeringly—explained feelings of poverty as preparatory to this work, that the creature may be laid low in the dust and the blessed Name alone be magnified; said the Lord would abundantly furnish for every good word and work; that he reduced the creature that all dependence on itself might be entirely removed, and our confidence firmly fixed on Himself, who is the eternal foundation of wisdom and knowledge. I did not see Benjamin again until the day after my dear brother's funeral, when he came to our house and lodged. He had a meeting in the place, and precious and heart-searching was his gospel message. He likewise had a sweet opportunity with the mourners at the house of my lamented brother's widow. Long will this beloved Friend and his consoling heavenly testimony be remembered.
5th mo., Seventh day. To-day is our select meeting, and my trembling spirit is loth to fly, and yet afraid to yield. Who, indeed, can know the agony of my spirit, save
"He who rolls the planets in their spheres
And counts the lowly mourner's tears?"