" Oh, how
much that means! What "delectable mountains!"
What "green pastures!" What "still waters!" What
"gardens enclosed!" What "south lands," and "springs
of water," are pictured in that _beau-ideal_ "on earth as
it is in heaven"! Well my second page has spoken of a
land very far off from the haunted region described in
the first; but to "turn over a new leaf" is easier in a
letter than in a life. Thy idea of the next ten years
altering us less than the last will perhaps prove true;
but, oh, the painful doubts that force themselves on me,
whether the present channel is such that we can peacefully
anticipate it only as deepening, and not as having
an utter change of direction! How much harder to live
in the world and not be of it than to forsake it altogether!
So lazy self says; and, in turning from present duty,
tries to justify itself by the excuse that it would willingly
leave this world for another.
_2d Mo. 4th. First-day evening_. Little as I have
felt inclined to put pen to paper of late, I thought
this evening that some small memento might be left,
as it were, at this point of the valley, just to say,
Here were the footsteps of a weary halting pilgrim at
such a time--one that brought no store of food or
raiment, no supply of wisdom or subtlety, no provision
for the way, nothing but wounds and weaknesses,
household images, secret sins; but by favor
of unspeakable long-suffering, continuing unto this
day--and, as she would fain hope, not deserted.
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