"At length the storm ceased and I arrived in safety at the house of a friend. The next day I reached home, and though met by cheerful faces, through the state of my mind, the music of their tones were as mournful sounds. The company in which I had found delight, could no longer entertain me; my home was dressed in mourning, my pillow wet with tears, and the bright prospects which had cheered me had vanished from my sky. I had no heart for business, no relish for pleasure. O how tiresome was every place! I read the Bible in private; often left my father's table in tears; often retired to the grove whose trees, more than those around me, seemed to know my heart, that I might relieve my soul in weeping. None knew the cause of this love of solitariness. Some said 'he suffers the influence of disappointment;' others, that 'he is plotting something for advantage:' none supposed that within me a deep striving was separating me from the world and leading me to the Fountain of Salvation. This period was a severe trial. Every power, it would seem, combined to test my spirit. Sometimes, from the conflict within, whilst darkness held its temporary victory, I was almost tempted to be angry with the Powers above, and with the whole creation; and once, I remember to have so far fallen under the evil power, as to swear at the existing order of things. It was continual trouble. I strove to labor what I could, and to fulfil my station in the family, using all the fortitude I could command. Here many things occurred that I shall not particularize; some things between my father and myself, which I once thought I should mention in every respect, but which the delicacy of the subject and the tenderness of our relation prevent. I can only say that my father was of deistical opinions, and at that time did not possess the degree of friendship and tenderness for the cause of religion which I could have wished him to, and which he indeed possessed some months after. "At times, everything seemed to unite in tormenting me, in causing me trouble; again, all things in nature, when my clouds were partially dispersed, had a voice for the Creator's praise. I alone was untuned. The very winds, as they passed, spoke of His power. The stars, ever calm, looked down in love, seeming faithfully to perform the will of their Ordainer; and the flowers of the earth, which bloomed in beauty, sending forth their fragrance to His honor; and the songs of birds, whose notes were full of the primeval innocence, all combined to administer reproof. The following lines would then have spoken my feelings, as the full-blown spring-time lay unfolded around me: