day long_, making their lives one continued prayer; but, oh, don't let
them tell others of, or let others know _half_ how much of communion
with Heaven is known to their own hearts. Is it not true that those who
talk most, go most to meetings, run hither and thither to all sorts of
societies and all sorts of readings--is it not true that such
people would not find peace and contentment--yes, blessedness of
blessedness--in solitary hours when to the Searcher of hearts alone are
known their aspirations and their love? I do not know, I am puzzled; but
I may say here, where nobody will ever see it, what I _do_ think, and I
say it to my own heart as well as over the hearts of others--there is
not enough of real, true communion with God, not enough nearness to Him,
not enough heart-searching before Him; and too much parade and bustle
and noise in doing His work on earth. Oh, I do not know exactly what I
mean--but since I have heard so many apparently Christian people own
that of this sense of nearness to God they know absolutely nothing--that
they pray because it is their habit without the least expectation of
meeting the great yet loving Father in their closets--since I have heard
this I am troubled and perplexed. Why, is it not indeed true that the
Christian believer, God's own adopted, chosen, beloved child, may speak
face to face with his Father, humbly, reverently, yet as a man talketh
with his friend? Is it not true? Do not I _know_ that it is so? Oh, I
sometimes want the wisdom of an angel that I may not be thus disturbed
and wearied.

_14th._--Now either Miss ----'s religion is wrong and mine right, or
else it's just the other way. I wrote some verses, funny ones, and sent
her to-day, and she returned for answer that verse in Proverbs about
vinegar on nitre, and seemed distressed that I ever had such worldly and
funny thoughts. I told her I should like her better if she ever had any
but solemn ones, whence we rushed into a discussion about proprieties