life!-Oh how suddenly was I brought low! in a moment of time! It was a very mysterious, singular, and unaccountable circumstance. But it was the LORD's doing.-It was ever well done according to my views, though so marvellous in my eyes.

In consequence of the distressing event which occurred to me, I fainted away (a thing which never happened to me before) twice before I could be got to bed. This happened on the twenty-third of December. Christmas day was a suffering day to me indeed. For ten days I was never up but to have my bed made, and for a fortnight, when I attempted to stand, I had no more strength than an infant; so that I was obliged to be carried up and down stairs. It has been a painful, anxious affliction to the flesh; but, blessed be GOD, I felt, by his help, patient and resigned under his hand. I knew it to be my Father that was chastening me; I knew too, that it was infinitely less than I

deserved. I hoped that it would be sanctified to the good of my soul, and could truly say, even while under the rod, I would not have it otherwise.

I did hope that he would hereby teach me, more than ever, to see my entire dependence on him, the vanity and uncertainty of all sublunary good, and that I might indeed feel his work renewed in my soul. But I do not feel as I wish to do, and I am afraid lest that part in his blessed word should be verified in my experience, "He that being often "reproved hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly "be destroyed, and that without remedy." I wish to have my whole soul more engaged toward God; that prayer, serious meditation, and reading his word were more my delight; but how often have I to complain, that my soul drags heavily in these spiritual exercises! Oh shall I never see better times? I bless the LORD that he gave me strength to tread his courts last Sunday, and I have reason

also to be thankful for his mercies towards my best beloved, and the dear babes, in that they have been preserved in usual health, &c; and on all accounts I ought to be dissolved in thankfulness.

March 22, 1798.

Oh how much love and goodness have I to celebrate!-The LORD hath been, and is now, doing all that a God of infinite love and mercy can do. He is daily condescending to my manifold wants and necessities, supporting me under the crosses (trifling ones compared with many) which I am exercised with. But what returns do I make? Am I growing in grace and the knowledge of the LORD JESUS? Is my love towards him increasing, or am I not more and more every year tied to the world, cleaving to the earth? I have no right to make my dear husband and children a plea for this; for I know that the LORD hath a superior claim to them all: but they do most

certainly engross much of my time and attention, which should be occupied in the LORD's service. I stand reproved-I wish it were better with me-the LORD give me to see more and more the evil of my conduct, and turn me from it more unreservedly to himself! for truly I can say, he that knoweth all things, knoweth that I love him.

July 5, 1798.

I may well endeavour to submit to bodily afflictions when they come, and to other trivial inconveniences in a domestick way, when I reflect how much my comforts overbalance my crosses. Could I chuse the rod, where should I place it? On my beloved partner, on my precious babes, the fruit of my womb, the cares, the comforts of my life? Oh no-I welcome it in myself, rather than it should touch them. As for these sheep, what have they done? Mine is the sin, be mine the sorrow, only the

LORD give strength equal to my day, and enable me to glorify him by being patient in tribulation. I have always great reason for thankfulness on this score, and so indeed I have on every other.

July 13, 1799.

Last Thursday morning, my dear sweet infant breathed his last. His illness was short, but severe, I was going to say, in the extreme. Oh I cannot well express the vain and flattering thoughts I had, when I saw his pretty smiles that evening; such as, I think, were singularly idolatrous: but, since that, Oh how have I been reproved! That day week, instead of contemplating the sweet engaging looks of innocence, a pale corpse was the contrast! Those only, who are mothers, can guess my feelings.-His moans, his looks, pierced my very soul. I could hear every breath he drew, down in the parlour, where, for two hours, I think