ding line and ascend yet higher. I reflected that Heaven
was purity, and he that would enter into it must be pure, must lay aside
all mere earthly and sensual affections, and become in all his thoughts
and actions uninfluenced by selfish motives--in a word, that he must
separate his soul from his body, and enter with the former, leaving the
latter on earth. This I knew was generally effected by death, and then
came the desire to die; but again I reflected that that was a sinful
desire, and would retard my progress. If I should take my own life, the
very act would debar me from the prize for which I did it.

I commenced schooling my mind and subduing my bodily propensities. I
abstained from all food, except just enough to keep me alive and in
health. I supplied the wants of nature, but nothing more. I practiced
self-denial in almost everything, forcing myself to act directly
opposite to the promptings of my carnal mind. I retired now to the
wildest parts of the mountains, to fill my soul with awe at beholding
the stupendous grandeur of nature; and now to the sunny valleys, the
babbling rills, and murmuring waterfalls, to drink in gladness and joy.
I visited the poor, bestowing gifts upon them, wandering far and near in
search of objects of charity, until my fortune was exhausted, and I was
left with but a scanty pittance for my support. But I gloried in my
poverty, remembering that the Scriptures teach that money is a
hindrance, the love of it an insuperable barrier, to the perfection of
human virtue. Knowledge was all I cared for; wealth sank into less than
nothingness when compared with it.

My great aim was to arrive to an exalted state of purity, in order to
attain to higher knowledge. I would not suffer myself to think of
anything unconnected with the Great Author of its existence. At length I
found myself undergoing a gradual change. The thoughts of earth and
earthly things became irksome to me, and I could banish them from my
mind at pleasure. My thoughts were as much at my command as my actions.
I could think upon a particular subject, or leave off thinking on it at
will, just as I could put my limbs in motion, or leave them at rest, as
I pleased.

One day I seated myself by the side of a little rill, the magnificent
white blossoms of the laurel waving over me, and the wild vines creeping
with serpentine folds around the boughs of the neighboring trees,
forming an arbor above the quiet stream. It was a lovely s