Ten thousand
voices call upon me to employ the nobler
talents intrusted for the same purpose. Nearly
sixteen years have I been warned, and sweetly
called upon to awake out of sleep: "What meanest
thou, O sleeper? arise, and call upon thy God!"
How shall I account, in the last day, for these
things? It is often startling to think how time is
advancing, and how ill the day's work keeps pace
with the day. For even now, poor drowsy creature
that I am, it is but occasional sensibility, with the
intervals buried in vain dreams; and even at such
times, my poor warped affections, and busy imaginations,
crowded with a multitude of images, refuse to
yield to the command, "Be still, and know that I
am God." I have, indeed, found that in whatever
circumstances I may he placed, I can never be really
happy without the religion of the heart; without
making the Lord my habitation; and oh, may it be
mine, through Christ's humbling and sanctifying
operations, to know every corner of my heart made
fit for the dwelling-place of Him who is with the
meek and contrite ones. Then shall the remaining
days of my pilgrimage be occupied in the energetic
employment of those talents which must otherwise
rise up for my condemnation in the last day.
_6th Mo. 2d_.
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