ZION’S LANDMARKS
93
■i
beard a Methodist preacher say from
the pulpit, “sirive to enter in at the
strait gate : for many, I say unto you,
shall seek to enter in, and shall not
be able.” These words sounded to me
like the loudest thunder. I thought
then, I would set about my work ; so
I commenced praying and reading
the Bible; I prayed as well as I could,
but the Bible appeared to have no
meaning at all. The same voice said-
to me, I told you so ; you cannot un>
derstand the Bible, give it up. I
thought then my fate was sure. And
to be sent to hell: oh I the awful
thought. I tried to pra}^, but the
words I could not utter ; my mouth
was sealed. I have often gone to
the woods to try to pray, but when I
got there, I would stand like one be
wildered, then turn and walk back
without speaking a word. I have
locked my doers, I was so afraid
some one would see me. Then I
would walk over the house lookino-
O
for some place to pray. At last my
troubles became so great I asked my
husband to pray for me ; he said “J
wull try, but you must pray for your
self.” I answered that I could not.
I then asked some Methodist preach
ers to pray for me, for I' was afraid
of the Baptists. I seemed to grow
worse and worse ; my constant cry
was Lord have mercy on me a sin-
ner; mygroanings were such as could
not be uttered. I thought I was lost;
every word in the Bible was like dag
gers at my heart; every hymn I read
made me cry with bitter anguish ; I
thought every body was better than
I; that God was just in doing his
own good Avill; yet, my cry was.
Lord have mercy on me a poor and
helpless sinner !
Until August, 1855, I remained
in a miserable condition. The sixth
of that mi. nth I thought would be
my last; I was undone and full of
sin. So I w'ent to sleep, not know
ing that I would wake again, but
just before day-break, I was suddenly
awakened ; I did not open my eyes,
but I saw my Saviour smiling sweet
ly on me, and saying, “peace be un-
t^o you.” Lore filled my soul, and
no wonder, for it was the lovliest
sight 1 ever saw. All my burden was
gone, I did not know how or where. |
It seemed that I loved every body ; ■
persons and things that I once hated,
1 tiieu loved. I told my husband
what I had seen and how 1 felt. lie
rejoiced, and said, ‘glory be to God I’
I longed to tell others what my feel
ings were, but my joy was not long.
I began to believe that I was deceiv
ed, and that all was foolish imagina
tion ; I was very sorry I had said
anything about it. I then felt that
I was in a worse condition than ever.
My trouble was all gone. I went to
a Methodist church, and one of the
preachers asked me how I felt—for
I had asked him to pray for me. I
told him my burden was gone, but
did not know how; when he turned
round and told the wdiole congrega
tion that I had got religion, which
vexed me very much. I thought I
was deceived and he was trying to
deceive the people. I prayed day
after day, that I might know W'hat
was the matter with me. I read the
Scriptures, but found nothing to
comfort me. One evening I was on
my bed thinking over my sad state.
I prayed that if I was not deceived,
I might get my Bible and open to
some place that would comfort me.
So I got my Bible, but was afraid to
open it; at last I opened it, and
these words drew my attention:
“We know that we have passed from
death unto life, because we love the
brethren.” I was happy then; I
thought I wmuld doubt no more. But
I soon began to think this was fool
ishness also. I found other passages
of Scripture that relieved me. Some
of my friends asked me why I did
not join some church. I told them I
was not fit. So I came to the con
clusion that I would say no more
about such things, if I was deceived
I would deceive no other person.—
But I soon became distressed again,
and knew not why it was. I was
one day looking in my Bible for
some passage that would comfort me,
when these -words arrested my atten
tion : “Come out from among them,
and be ye separate.” If I had seen
my death sentence, I could not have
felt worse. I was in bad company
and had no way to get out of it, but
by coming out and being separate.
These words often came to mj mind
with much force:
“I am a sinner here below,
And what I am ’tis hard to hnow ;
I am 80 vile, so prone to sin,
1 fear that I’m not born again.
I longed to hear some Old Baptist
talk, but seldom had the opportunity;
when I did hear them, I often had to
leave the house to conceal my grief.
I wished to tell the Old Baptists the
state of my feelings, but thought they
would not notice me, and I could not
blame them. I became so distressed
about ray -way of living, that I thought
I -would go to the Missionaries. I
did not feel fit to go to any, but I
thought there would he less difficulty
in their taking me than the Old Bap-^
tists. I went to the Missionary church,
but like one dreaming, I was not sat
isfied but had no power to move. I
continued in this state of mind until
the beginning of the next year, when
my companion was taken from me.
This accident seemed to awaken me
from a sleep that seemed to come
over me on my entering the Mission
ary church. It appeared that some
thing as terrible as the death of my
companion was required to aAvaken
me. No one can tell how awful were
my feelings. I was confounded and
distracted; for my sins my best friend
was taken from me. I prayed that
he might come back, or if he was in
heaven, I might dream of seeing him.
One time I prayed that I might see
him, and it was not five minutes un
til I seemed to be carried to the house
where I had lived, and was placed in
a chair, which was moved softly back
ward and forward in front of the door;
I thought I saw him up in the sky
dressed in white ; I saw him twice
in this way, and was then brought
back. When I awoke I found that
the whole time of the dream, did not
exceed ten minutes. This gave me
reat comfort, yet I was inclined to
murmur still. Again I begged for
him; for it is hard to give a com»
panion up, aS you who have lost one
can testify. One day my -whole soul
was absorbed with this wish, and
there came a voice, as it seemed,
over my right shoulder, so plain that I
looked round, but sa-w no one, it
said: “If he is in heaven, ought you
not to be satisfied ?” My quick re
ply was, “yes.” Ever after that time,
I tried to be resigned to the will of
God. Then the awful feeling of my
situation ; I wms not satisfied where
I was and could go no where else.—
And worse than all, I could not tell
my feelings, but they seemed at times
almost to consume my heart.
I went on in this way for nearly
three years, and never found power
of utterance. I suppose I have gone
to the woods a thousand times to ask
for liberty to tell my mother the
state of my feelings, but prayed in
vain. I heard others tell their feel
ings, and appeared to enjoy them
selves, but as for me, my mouth was
closed, no tongue can tell the anguish
I suffered.
My aunt visited us several times
in the first part of the year 539; -when
she -vi onld eome she-would tell mother
about her enjoyment at meetings.
Sometimes I would hear her, and
when I did it cost me many bitter tears.
Often I left the house to weep alone,
over my sad state. I wanted to tell the
Old Baptists my case, for I thought
the Missionaries had not been faith
ful with me, but I dared not approach
that true and faithful band. I loved
their talk above every thing; the
doctrine was sweet, and I loved their
name; I loved them, but thought
they did not love me. I constantly
thought this
“I Jsaow I love cliristiaaa, 'wliere ever tliey be,
But oftimes am fearing they cannot love me ;
For 1 am imperfect, and cannot do good,
For sin ’s present -with me, when' freely I
■would.”
Lest I grow tedious-. I’ll hasten
on. In my distress, something seem
ed to say to me^ “you have no- need
to tell anybody anything, wait God’s
pleasure.” So I went to a Union
meeting, at Harmony ; on the first
day some brethien and sisters came
from another county; when they
met at the church, I never saw such
enjoyment, they were like twin sis
ters. 0, the love they had for
each other; I would have given the
world to have enjoyed their love, but
it was not for me. We had a good
meeting, that day and th-e next, or
it was good to them, but death to
me. On Saturday I thought I would
go for the last time, and when ser
vices were over I would go home and
stay, for I could not stay there with^
out crying. Just before night, my
aunt said to me, “why don’t you do
your duty ?” I said I didn’t want to
disgrace the cause. She asked me
if I would talk to the preacher ? I
said I -would if I could. I did not
say many words, but the preacher
and some of the brethren said I ought
to talk to the church. I promised
myself that I Avould. When night
came the preacher gave out these
■words :
“Beside the gospel pool,” &c.
And all the Lymn seemed appropri
ate to my case ; every word seemed
like the loudest thunders ; they seem
ed as if they -would strike me dead ;
still I could’nt help praising God for
his strange and wonderhil goodness..
But to return. After preaching the
doors were opened, and oh, my mouth
was opened to speak tlic goodness of
God ; and glory to God i'a the high
est, I can still speak of his goodnes:-.
I was baptised on Sunday morning,
by Eld. Wm. Morgan; I -ivas then
happy. I was tol.l I might look for-
temptations, and I did in a cert na