immediately, I could begin to quote his word, "Lord, I believe; help thou
my unbelief." I kept repeating that declaration and prayer all day long and
until late in the afternoon.

I got hold of a little tract in which God's promises were simplified; for
instance, "He is our light in darkness; our wisdom in ignorance; our
counsellor in perplexity." I said, "Lord, I am perplexed: the burden of
guilt is gone and I can't mourn any more, but I can't say that I am saved."
Mother had said that the Lord had shown her that she was saved, and I felt
sure that as God is no respecter of persons, he must show me that I was
saved too. I could not be satisfied short of that; so I said, "Lord, I take
thee as my counsellor in perplexity." Then I repeated, "Lord, I believe;
help thou my unbelief." Before the sentence had dropped from my lips, I
said, "Lord, I know; Lord, I know."

I can not tell you how happy I was. I arose from my knees, started out of
my chamber and to my surprise met the brother with whom I had quarreled. "O
Oliver," I said, "the Lord has had mercy on me and saved me." I shall never
forget that day. It was May 3, 1871.

Up to that time I had not opened my heart to my father concerning my soul's
condition and needs, as he was not living a satisfactory life himself, but
when I went to the supper table, I was so happy that I said, "O Father,
help me praise the Lord." Not knowing how my soul had been longing for God
and a new life, he said, "Mary, what has broken loose?" I answered, "I
can't praise Him enough; I want you to help me praise him." I was too happy
to eat supper, and so went out into the yard and walked up and down
praising the Lord to my soul's content.

I might say here, it was not fear of everlasting punishment that caused me