with poor me! Is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there to heal this sin-stricken world, this sin-sick soul of mine? Like a flash the answer came, Yes, Jesus is that balm; he shed his own precious blood for me on Calvary, that I might live now, and for evermore! Yes, the healing balm is applied, and I _am saved!_ Oh, what a fountain is opened for cleansing! My peace was like an overflowing river. It seemed as if I could almost live without breathing--my tears were brushed away by the breath of heaven. I stood a monument of amazing mercy, praising God with every breath. All nature praising, instead of mourning as it did a few moments before. O, how changed the scene! The birds now sent forth their notes of praise! The leaves of the forest clapped their hands for joy, and the branches waved with praise! Every head of wheat was now bowed in sweet submission. O, what a leveling of all nations of the earth was this baptism. I had been prejudiced against the Irish people, as I never had seen one of that nation until they came to our town, Lockport (as it was then called), by hundreds, to work on the Erie canal, that ran through a part of father's farm; and as they were frequently passing our house drunk, I was afraid of them. But now every soul seemed so precious, I thought I could toil all my life long if I could become instrumental in bringing one soul to the Savior who died to save sinners, though they might be the greatest drunkards in that or any other nation. Jesus shed his blood to redeem all who would by faith accept salvation so freely offered. The African and Indian races were alike objects of redeeming love. That was a fathomless fountain. After spending a little time in this reverie, I went from this hallowed place to accomplish my errand, and met a neighbor, who looked at me earnestly and said, "Laura, what's the matter? are you sick?" "O, no; I'm not sick," and hurried on. And the first greeting I received from grandfather was the same query, who received the same reply. I left for home as soon as the errand was accomplished, but as I was passing out of the door I met my Uncle Americus with the same query, who also received the same answer. Oh, how I wished father and mother could understand me, and the overwhelming sorrow I had waded through in search of this satisfying portion.