_8th Mo. 26th_. Oh, how shall I set forth His tender compassion, who has blessed me this evening with, I was going to say, the abundance of peace and truth? Oh, how near He has been, helping me to cast my all on Him, helping me to leave the things that are behind, yes, and the things that are before too, as far as self is concerned, and commit my future way and safety to Him! When His love has been made known, how have I been grieved by fears of future folly, fears, too, that have been grievously fulfilled. What a pretest this for harassing myself with fears that it will be so again! But, oh, these fears are very far from that fear which the Lord will put into His children's hearts, that they shall not depart from Him. They have no preserving power over me; they are "of the earth, earthy," and solely come from distrust of that grace which is ever-sufficient; from a desire to have a share myself in that victory which is Christ's alone. Oh, if my incessant regards were to Him alone, He would take all care on Himself. "He is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever," and His faith _is_ "the victory which overcomes the world." Humility, true watchfulness, and self-distrust are diametrically opposed to this careful spirit: their language ever is, "I am nothing, Christ is all." _8th Mo. 27th_. Changed indeed; not any light to be seen in my dark heart. Yet I look up, I trust singly, to Him from whom it came yesterday; and thither may I look till again the day break. Can I say, in full sincerity, "_more_ than they that watch for the morning"? Alas that I am so versatile! Christian and worldling within a day. Oh for a deeper sense that I am not my own,--that I have no right to disturb the sanctuary of my own spirit when God has made it such,--that there is no other way than whole-hearted and honest-hearted Christianity to attain the heavenly kingdom! _9th Mo. 9th_. Letter to M.B.