y part of my dress, and materials _not_ the
finest."

This simplicity in dress, and the sinfulness of every self-indulgence,
she also taught to her Sunday-school scholars with more or less
success, as one example out of several of a similar character will
show.

"Yesterday," she writes, "I met my class, and think it was a profitable
meeting to all. One of them has entertained a hope for about a year.
She asked me if I thought it wrong to plant geraniums? I told her _I_
had no time for such things. She then said that she had once taken
great pleasure in cultivating them, but lately she had felt so much
condemnation that she had given it up entirely. Another professed to
have some little hope in the Saviour, and remarked that I had changed
her views with regard to dress very much, that she had taken off her
rings and flounces, and hoped never to wear them again. Her hat also
distressed her. It was almost new, and she could not afford to get
another. I told her if she would send it to me I would try to change
it. Two others came who felt a little, but are still asleep. A good
work is evidently begun. May it be carried triumphantly on."

Towards spring she began to absent herself from the weekly
prayer-meetings, to stop her active charities, and to withdraw herself
more from the family and social circle. In April she writes in her
diary:--

"My mind is composed, and I cannot but feel astonished at the total
change which has passed over me in the last six months. I once
delighted in going to meeting four and five times every week, but now
my Master says, 'Be still,' and I would rather be at home; for I find
that every stream from which I used to drink the waters of salvation is
dry, and that I have been led to the fountain itself. And is it
possible, I would ask myself to-night, is it possible that I have this
day paid my last visit to the Presbyterian Church? that I have taught
my interesting class for the last time? Is it right that I should
separate myself from a people whom I have loved so tenderly, and who
have been the helpers of my joy? Is it right to give up instructing
those dear children, whom I have so often carried in the arms of faith
and love to the throne of grace? Reason would sternly answer, _No_, but
the Spirit whispers, 'Come out from among them!' I am sure if I refuse
the call of my Master to the Society of Friends, I shall be a dead
member in the Presbyterian Church. I have read none of their books