on myself: am I in the path of duty? When I think that the
little money I brought with me is nearly gone, that, if nothing should be
done by Congress, I shall be in a destitute state; that perhaps I shall
have again to be a burden to friends until I know to what to turn my
hands, I feel low-spirited. I am only relieved by naked trust in God, and
it is right that this should be so."

"_January 20._ My patience is still tried in waiting for the action of
Congress on my bill. With so much at stake you may easily conceive how
tantalizing is this state of suspense. I wish to feel right on this
subject; not to be impatient, nor distrustful, nor fretful, and yet to be
prepared for the worst. I find my funds exhausting, my clothing wearing
out, my time, especially, rapidly waning, and my affairs at home
requiring some little looking after; and then, if I should after all be
disappointed, the alternative looks dark, and to human eyes disastrous in
the extreme.

"I hardly dare contemplate this side of the matter, and yet I ought so
far to consider it as to provide, if possible, against being struck down
by such a blow. At times, after waiting all day and day after day, in the
hope that my bill may be called up, and in vain, I feel heart-sick, and
finding nothing accomplished, that no progress is made, that _precious
time_ flies, I am depressed and begin to question whether I am in the way
of duty. But when I feel that I have done all in my power, and that this
delay may be designed by the wise disposer of all events for a trial of
patience, I find relief and a disposition quietly to wait such issue as
he shall direct, knowing that, if I sincerely have put my trust in him,
he will not lead me astray, and my way will, in any event, be made
plain."

"_January 25._ I am still _waiting, waiting_. I know not what the issue
will be and wish to be prepared, and have you all prepared, for the worst
in regard to the bill. Although I learn of no opposition yet I have seen
enough of the modes of business in the House to know that everything
there is more than in ordinary matters uncertain. It will be the end of
the session, probably, before I return. I will not have to reproach
myself, or be reproached by others, for any neglect, but under all
circumstances I am exceedingly tried. I am too foreboding probably, and
ought not so to look ahead as to be distrustful. I fear that I have no
right feelings in this state of suspense. It is easier t