as if some one was about to place a hand upon my shoulder, and I again
found myself on my feet. But as no one was in sight, I queried whether
this was not the enemy of my soul, to keep me from prayer, and fell
upon my knees a third time, determined to remain in the position of
prayer until my first petition to my Heavenly Father was presented.
And the prayer of the publican was repeated over and over again, "God
be merciful to me a sinner." These words above all others seemed just
for me. I was a sinner, and mercy was what I wanted. I returned to the
house with a still more fixed resolve to continue asking, with a
firmer purpose never to give over until the evidence of pardoning love
was mine. As I retired, I knelt by my bedside, and repeated the same
prayer, with a few additional words, imploring the aid of the Holy
Spirit to teach me the way of life, and penitential tears began to
flow. Before I slept my pillow was wet with tears, and was turned for
a dry place. As I was reading the Bible through by course, it became
more of a companion than ever before.

The next prayer-meeting was attended, and as they knelt during the
season of prayer I felt an impression to kneel with them. But the
cross was very great and I did not yield. I thought if I did so it
would be reported to my parents, and they would probably forbid my
coming to these little meetings, which I so highly prized. But this
was unprofitable reasoning, increasing the burden instead of bringing
the relief sought. I wept on my way home, and in my evening
supplication renewed my promise to be more faithful, let others do or
say what they would, if the like impression was ever again
experienced. With permission I attended the next prayer-meeting at my
uncle's, and, as if to test my faithfulness, two young women of my
intimate associates came in, and sat one on each side of me. At the
first season of prayer, as I did not have that impression, I felt