e suffered. I saw Him on the
cross. I heard the prayer which He offered in the midst of His agonies
in behalf of His murderers, 'Father, forgive them; they know not what
they do.' And still I read, and still I gazed, and still I listened. I
was entranced. I had thought to stand at a distance; to look at Jesus
with the eye of a philosopher and moralist only, and calmly and coolly
to take His portrait; but I was overpowered. The strange, the touching
sight drew me nearer. The loving one got hold of me. His infinite
tenderness, His transcendent goodness, the glory of His whole character,
and life, and doctrine took me captive; and I was no way loth to be held
by such charms. He had won me entirely. I loved Him with all my heart
and soul. I was His,--His disciple, His servant, entirely, and forever.
And I wanted no other treasure but to share His love, and no other
employment but to share His work. I was, though but very imperfectly
enlightened on many things, and exceedingly weak and imperfect in many
respects, most blessedly and indissolubly wedded to Christ and His
cause.

I drew the portrait of the Saviour to the best of my ability, and sent
the articles to the press. It fell to the lot of my children, in
correcting the press, to read those articles. And when they read them,
they too wept, and one said to another, "Father is coming right; he will
be himself again by and by." And they were right in thinking so. I had
come in contact with the Great Healer. I had got a sight of One on whom
it is impossible to look steadfastly and long without experiencing a
thorough transformation of soul. And so it was with me. From my first
look I became less and less of a skeptic, and more and more of a
believer in Christianity, till my transformation was complete.

The more I read the Bible with my altered feelings and change of
purpose, the more was I impressed with its transcendent worth, and the
more was I influenced by its renovating power. I saw that whatever might
be said with regard to particular portions of the Book, it was, as a
whole, the grandest revelation of truth and duty that the mind of man
could conceive. I could no longer find in my heart to talk or write
about what appeared to be its imperfections. There were passages that
seemed dark or doubtful: there were some that seemed erroneous or
contradictory; but they amounted to nothing. They did not affect the
scope, the drift, the aim, the tendency of the Book as a whol