I, who fancied myself an heir of glory, was
nothing but a peevish, human creature-very human indeed, overcome if
Martha shook the bed, as she always did, irritated if my food did not
come at the right moment, or was not of the right sort, hurt and
offended if Ernest put on at one less anxious and tender than he had
used when I was very ill, and-in short, my own poor faulty self once
more. Oh, what fearful battles I fought for patience, forbearance and
unselfishness! What sorrowful tears of shame I shed over hasty,
impatient words and fretful tones! No wonder I longed to be gone
where weakness should be swallowed up in strength, and sin give place
to eternal perfection!
But here I am, and suffering and work lie before me, for which I feel
little physical or mental courage. But "blessed be the will of God."
APRIL 5.-I was alone with father last evening, Ernest and Martha both
being out, and soon saw by the way he fidgeted in his chair that he
had something on his mind. So I laid down the book I was reading, and
asked him what it was.
"My daughter," he began, "can you bear a plain word from an old man?"
I felt frightened, for I knew I had been impatient to Martha of late,
in spite of all my efforts to the contrary. I am still so miserably
unwell.
"I have seen many death-beds," he went on; "but I never saw one where
there was not some dread of the King of Terrors exhibited; nor one
where there was such absolute certainty of having found favor with
God to make the hour of departure entirely free from such doubts and
such humility as becomes a guilty sinner about to face his Judge.
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