THE JESSAMINE. 243 



watched the progress of ihat deadly complaint, de- 

 vouring lis vicliin piecemeal. 



Olieii have I gone out from the presence of the 

 dear suii'crer, lo meditate upon the amazing power 

 of divuie grace, whicli she abundantly possessed; 

 a rich treasure in an earthen vessel so deplorably 

 marred as lo make it doul)ly apparent that all the 

 excellency of that power was of God. I found it 

 hard, in an early stage of my Christian experience, 

 to reconcile ihe aculeness of her bodily anguish 

 with those promises of holy writ which describe 

 the i)elievcr as possessed of all things — godliness 

 as having the promise of this life, as well as that 

 which is to come — and the Lord as withholding 

 no good thing from them that walk uprightly. I 

 could. not comprehend how such exquisite patience 

 should be visited with tribulation so severe; for I 

 had still to learn, that the tribulation wrought the 

 patience. Hundreds of times have I paced up 

 and down that confined path, murmuring against 

 the cross that my friend so cheerfully bore ; and 

 questioning the love that so grievously afflicted 

 her. Sometimes the dumb boy, then in the first 

 steps of instruction, would come to me, increasing 

 my perplexity by showing that the same thoughts 

 occiipied his mind. In his imperfect phraseology, 

 he would again and again say, 'Poor Mrs. C. 

 much hurl. What? God love Mrs. C.? God 

 hurt .Airs, C. What?' The word— what ! inter- 



