Oh,
how do I get cumbered with cares and many things,
entangled with perplexity, or elated with cheer! I
think I have honestly wished to be fed with convenient
food. Oh to be at the end of the race, or so
near it as dear E. Stephens, by whose bed of pain
and joy I could not but mingle tears. But why
thus? Surely, O Lord, Thou hast heard the desire
of thy poor creature. Thy help must have been
with me when I knew it not, or life had been quite
extinct ere now. Extinct it _is_ not; and for this will
I bless Thee, even that I am not yet cast out as an
abominable branch, though so unfruitful. I fear it
can be only by much tribulation that the enemy of
my own house will ever be quelled; and perhaps salutary
pains are sent, in the very perplexities of things
which might be more ensnaring if all went on smoothly.
I have declined more cotton goods from Ireland, and
asked for woollen, which is one burden gone.
_10th Mo. 7th_. I believe study and taste must be
kept very subordinate to duty. Enough, yea, heaven
is this, to do my Father's will, if it were but as it is
done in heaven--all willing, loving, joyful service! Oh
to be more like my Saviour! Surely I love Him!
_10th Mo. 20th_. If Martha should not have been
cumbered with the outward attention to Christ Himself,
cares for others on plea of duty can never be
enough excuse for a peaceless mind.
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