Why do thy thoughts on many run?"

_12th Mo. 30th_. To-day ends the week, and to-morrow
the year. Very unfit am I to speak of it as I
would. I have felt very happy on some occasions,
yet I have feared lest what should be on a good
foundation is yet but built of "hay and stubble."
If so, who can tell the fierceness of the fire that
burns between me and my wished-for rest? There
is no way to true safety but through it; and, oh, to
part with all combustibles is very hard; but why
waste a thought on the hardness, could it but be
speedily and simply done? My old difficulty--what
is duty when the sensible help of grace is out of
sight--renews its strength. Doubtless to wait for it,
and perhaps ask for it also; but how? Oh that I
had crossed the great gulf from myself to my
Saviour! Oh that I were in His hands and out of
my own!

_2d Mo. 3d_, 1849. I have been sorely tried with
apparent desertion and darkness; "yet not deserted"
is my still struggling faith; and some consoling
thoughts have visited me of days still I trust in
store, when, "as one whom his mother comforteth,"
the Lord will comfort me. Dear J.T.'s counsel has
seldom been absent from my thoughts; but, manifold
as have been my heavenly Father's instrumental
mercies, I never was more impressed with the absolute
need of His immediate preserving care.