"Then God gives me small look of His self, His _Son_, and His glory; and I think in my heart, they all be mine soon; then I no suffer hunger any more--my Father have there many mansions." "Sarah," said I, "you seem to have some knowledge of the Scriptures; can you read?" "I can spell out a little; I can't read like you white folks; O, if I could!" Here she burst into tears. But after regaining her composure, she added, "This, misse, what I want above all things, more than victuals or drink. Oh, how often I beg God teach me to read, and He do teach me some. When I take Bible, kneel down and pray, he show me great many words, and they be so sweet, I want to know a great deal more. Oh, when I get home to heaven, then I know all; no want to read any more." In this strain of simple piety, she told me her first interesting story. And when she departed, I felt a stronger evidence of her being a true child of God, than I have acquired of some professors by a long acquaintance. In one of the many visits she afterward made me, she gave me, in substance, the following account of her conversion:--She lived, according to her own account, until she became a wife and mother, without hope and without God in the world, having been brought up in extreme ignorance. Her husband treating her with great severity, she became dejected and sorrowful, and to use her own simple language, "I go sorrow, sorrow, all day long. When the night come, husband come home angry, beat me so; then I think, Oh, if Sarah had friend! Sarah no friend. I no want tell nabor I got trouble, that make only worse. So I be quiet, tell nobody, only cry all night and day for one good friend. "One Sunday, good nabor come, and say, 'Come, Sarah, go Meetin'.' So I call my children, tell 'em stay in house while I go to Meetin'. When got there, minister tell all about Jesus; how He was born in stable, go suffer all His life, die on great cross, bury, rise, and go up into heaven, to be always sinners' friend. He say, too, if you got trouble, go to the Lord Jesus. He best friend in sorrow, He cure all your sorrow, He bring you out of trouble, He support you, make you willin' suffer. "So when I go home, think great deal what minister say; think this the friend I want--this the friend I cry for so long. Poor ignorant Sarah never heard so much about Jesus before. Then I try hard to tell Jesus how I want such friend. But oh, my heart so hard, can't feel, can't pray, can't love Jesus, though he so good. This make me sorrow more and more. "When Sunday come, want to go to Meetin' 'gain. Husband say, 'You shan't go; I beat you if you go.' So I wait till he go off huntin', then shut up children safe, and run to Meetin'; sit down in door, hear minister tell how bad my heart is--no love to God, no love to Jesus, no love to pray. So then I see why can't have Jesus for friend, 'cause got so bad heart: then go prayin' all way home, Jesus make my heart better.