March 4th

The doctors say I am improving. I do not find it much. My mind tends to prevent recovery. If it were at rest my body would be more at ease. But it truly terrifies me to find my foolish wanderings after mere confusion, and how little heeding the glorious things of the Gospel, wherein there is, "Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, and goodwill to men." It is good that His heart, and not mine, is the repository of it. Dear William Elder will return home today, and other friends who were here over Sabbath. Dear Kitty M'Rae will remain some time, and be like a lovely dew from above to eyes with the scales off. We are much in want of living epistles. May they be raised up to put empty shadows to be esteemed as they ought. Oh, to see persons whom the Lord would work through, sanctified and meet for His use. Some cannot reconcile it with His declarative glory that He would make use of man or minister in our day to work His holy work. We have imbibed such worldly principles in religion, and will suffer so little for it. How very few are doing the work with power from on high?