seemed opening between her and God, and she felt that if some
one, who was worthy in the sight of heaven, would but plead
for her in their own name, and not let God know it came from
her, who was so unworthy, God might grant it. At length a
friend appeared to stand between herself and an insulted Deity;
and she felt as sensibly refreshed as when, on a hot day, an
umbrella had been interposed between her scorching head and
a burning sun. But who was this friend? became the next inquiry.
Was it Deencia, who had so often befriended her? She
looked at her, with her new power of sight-and, lo! she, too,
seemed all 'bruises and putrifying sores,' like herself. No, it was
some one very different from Deencia.

'Who are you?' she exclaimed, as the vision brightened into
a form distinct, beaming with the beauty of holiness, and radiant
with love. She then said, audibly addressing the mysterious visitant-'I

know you, and I don't know you.' Meaning, 'You
seem perfectly familiar; I feel that you not only love me, but that
you always have loved me-yet I know you not-I cannot call
you by name.' When she said, 'I know you,' the subject of the
vision remained distinct and quiet. When she said, 'I don't
know you,' it moved restlessly about, like agitated waters. So
while she repeated, without intermission, 'I know you, I know
you,' that the vision might remain-'Who are you?' was the
cry of her heart, and her whole soul was in one deep prayer that
this heavenly personage might be revealed to her, and remain
with her. At length, after bending both soul and body with the
intensity of this desire, till breath and strength seemed failing,
and she could maintain her position no