as had never before, perhaps, been heard in that vast solitude.
Her heart was relieved by this outpouring of her griefs to God,
and she wondered that she had allowed herself, notwithstanding her
sufferings and discouragements, to neglect such a privilege.
It is so sometimes; grief is so overwhelming that it seems to shut
us away from God; but we can never find comfort or relief until we
have pierced through the clouds, and got near to his loving ear and
heart again. Tidy found this true. "And now," she said to herself,
"I WILL keep on praying until he hears me, and comes to help me,--
I am determined I will."

But perhaps, thought she, I haven't prayed the right prayer;
perhaps there's something about me that's wrong; and she cried with
a loud voice, that was echoed back again from those forest depths,
"O Lord, tell me just how to pray, that I mayn't make no mistake."

No sooner had she uttered this petition than she thought she heard
a voice, and these were its words: "Say, 'O Lord, pluck me out
of the fiery brands, and take my feet out of the miry pit, and make
me stand on the everlasting rock; and, O Lord, save my soul.'"
Tidy had heard a great many of her people tell about dreams and visions
and voices, but she had never before had any such experiences.
But this came to her with a reality she could not doubt or resist.
It seemed like a voice from heaven, and she remarked that great stress
was laid upon the last words, "O Lord, SAVE MY SOUL." Hitherto she
had only sought temporal deliverance. She had never been fully
awakened to her condition as a sinner, and had, therefore, never asked
for the salvation of her soul. Now it was strongly impressed upon
her mind that there was something more to be delivered from than
the horrors of the cotton-field. She was a sinner, was not in favor