erian tracts: "The
Way to Redemption," "The Story of a Missionary in Polynesia," "The White
Slave,"--inspiring and consecrated writings, all of them--comforting to
me in many a bitter hour. When she came in I thought it was to ask me to
pray with her. (II Chronicles VII, 14.) But her heart, it appears, is
still shut to the words of salvation. She renewed her unseemly
denunciation of her benefactor, and sought to overcome me with her
weeping. I found myself strangely drawn toward her--almost pitying her.
She approached me, her eyes suffused with tears, her red lips parted,
her hair flowing about her shoulders. I felt myself drawn to her. I
knew and understood the temptation of that great and good man. But by a
powerful effort of the will--or, should I say, by a sudden access of
grace?--I recovered and pushed her from me. And then, closing my eyes to
shut out the image of her, I pronounced those solemn and awful words:
"Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord!" The effect was immediate: she
emitted a moan and departed. I had resisted her abhorrent blandishments.
(Proverbs I, 10.)

January 25.

I love the Book of Job. Where else in the Scriptures is there a more
striking picture of the fate that overtakes those who yield to sin?
"They meet with darkness in the day-time, and grope in the noon-day as
in the night" (Job V, 14). And further on: "They grope in the dark
without light, and he maketh them to stagger like a drunken man" (Job
XII, 25). I read these beautiful passages over and over again. They
comfort me.

January 28.

That shameless person once more. She sends back the tracts I gave
her--torn in halves.

February 3.

That American brother, the former Dunkard, thrilled us with his
eloquence at to-night's meeting. In all my days I have heard no more
affecting plea for right living. In words that almost seemed to be of
fire he set forth the duty of all of us to combat sin wherever we find
it, and to scourge the sinner until he foregoes his folly.

"It is not sufficient," he said, "that we keep our own hearts pure: we
must also purge the heart of our brother. And if he resist us, let no
false sympathy for him stay our hands. We are charged with the care and
oversight of his soul. He is in our keeping. Let us seek at first to
save him with gentleness, but if he draws back, let us unsheath the
sword! We must be deaf to his protests. We must not be deceived by his
casuistries. If he clings to his sinning, he must