by the general principle and guiding desire of the mind. I
do think that my prevailing aim is to do the will of God and to glorify
Him in everything. Of this I have thought a great deal of late. I have
not a very extensive sphere of action, but I want my conduct, my every
word and look and motion, to be fully under the influence of this desire
for the honor of God. You can have no idea of the constant observation
to which I am exposed here.

_Feb. 21st._--I spent three hours this afternoon in taking care of a
little black child (belonging to the house), who is very ill, and as
I am not much used to such things, it excited and worried me into a
violent nervous headache. I finished Brainerd's Life this afternoon,
amid many doubts as to whether I ever loved the Lord at all, so
different is my piety from that of this blessed and holy man. The book
has been a favorite with me for years, but I never felt the influence of
his life as I have while reading it of late.

She alludes repeatedly in her correspondence to the delight which she
found on the Sabbath in listening to that eminent preacher and divine,
the Rev. Dr. Wm. S. Plumer, who was then settled in Richmond. In a
letter to her cousin she writes:

I have become much attached to him; he seems more than half in heaven,
and every word is full of solemnity and feeling, as if he had just held
near intercourse with God. I wish that you could have listened with me
to his sermons to-day. They have been, I think, blessed messages from
God to my soul.

All her letters at this time glow with religious fervor. "How wonderful
is our divine Master!" she seemed to be always saying to herself. "It
has become so delightful to me to speak of His love, of His holiness, of
His purity, that when I try to write to those who know Him not, I hardly
know what is worthy of even a mention, if He is to be forgotten." And
several years afterwards she refers to this period as a time when she
"shrank from everything that in the slightest degree interrupted her
consciousness of God."

The following letter to a friend, whose name will often recur in these
pages, well illustrates her state of mind during the entire winter.

_To Miss Anna S. Prentiss. Richmond, Feb 26, 1841._

Your very welcome letter, my dear Anna, arrived this afternoon, and, as
my labors for the week are over, I am glad of a quiet hour in which to
thank you for it. I do not thank you simply because you have so soon
answered m