ted with a precious feeling: "I will take care
of thee."

_3d Mo. 27th_. How does my heart long, this
evening, that the one Saviour may be made unto
me "wisdom and righteousness, sanctification and
redemption!" Teach me to keep silence, O God!
to mind my own business and be faithful to it; to
deny my own will and wisdom; give me the spirit
of true Christian love, that my whole life may be in
the atmosphere of love!

_3d Mo. 28th_. * * * To cease from my own
works, surely in a very small degree, I can experimentally
say, "this is the only true rest." This
blessed experience seems to me the height of enjoyment
to the truly redeemed. Oh, a little foretaste
of this sabbath has been granted, when I have
seemed to behold with my own eye, and to feel for
myself in moments too precious to be forgotten, the
waves of tumult hushed into a, more than earthly
calm by Him who alone can say, "Peace, be still."
My tossing spirit has never found such a calm in
any thing this world can give.

During her first attendance of the Yearly Meeting in London, in 1841,
she wrote the following affectionate lines in a letter to her sisters
at home:--

LONDON THOUGHTS.

The crowds that past me ceaseless rush
Stay not to glance at me,
As falling waters headlong gush
Into their native sea.

But hearts there are that brightly burn,
And light each kindling eye,
And home to them my thoughts return,
Swift as the sunbeams fly.

* * * * *

To home, to home my spirit hastes;
For why? my treasure's there;
'Tis there her native joys she tastes,
And breathes her native air.

Oh, sweetest of all precious things,
When this wide world we roam,
When meets us on its balmy wings
A messenger from home!

From home, where hearts are warm and true,
And love's lamp brightly burns,
And sparkles Hermon's pearly dew
On childhood's crystal urns.

Oh, sweet to mark the speaking lines
Traced by a sister's hand,
And feel the love that firmly twines
Around our household band!

To one of her sisters:--

LONDON, 6th Month, 1841.

* * * * I lay still half hour, and read over
thy tenderly interesting and affecting sheet, and poured
out my full heart; but what can I say? How I do long
to be with you, and see, if it might be, once more, our
beloved uncle! But perhaps before this the conflict