Thus pointedly to avoid me!--It might be accident,
however, for she did not refuse to sing from the same hymn-book with
me, and pointed to a verse on the other page, quaint, but
excellent. After all, old Watts has written the best hymns in the
language.
_Evening_. Without choice, I found myself walking round the pond
again. It was as smooth as glass, and the leaves scarcely trembled on
the trees and bushes round it. And in my heart reigned a similar calm.
A strange quiet has fallen on my usually restless and anxious mind. I
thought that in future I could be content not to look beyond the
present duty, and, having done my best in all circumstances, that I
could leave the results to follow as God wills. At that moment I could
sincerely say, "Let him set me high or low, wherever he has work for
me to perform." If I can remain thus quiet in mind, my health will
soon return, I feel assured.
"_If!_" A well-founded distrust, I fear. This peace must be only a
mood, to pass away when my natural spirits return. The fever of
covetousness, of rivalry, of envy, and ambitious earthly aspirations,
will come back. Like waves upon the lake, these uneasy feelings will
chase each other over my soul. I picked up a little linen wristband at
this moment, which I recognized.
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