On the 26th of the Twelfth Month he records a state of spiritual poverty.

Such, he says, has been the instability of my mind, that my “Beloved is unto me as a fountain sealed.”  But, he adds, I feel a little tendered this evening, on reading over a few comfortable expressions in a letter from my friend, Joseph Wood.

This condition of mind continued for some months, when he thus breaks forth:—­

3 mo. 8, 1812.—­How pleasant it is once more to be favored with a few drops of living water from the springs of that well which my soul has had for many weeks past to languish after, and which I trust has been wisely withheld in order to show me that, although it is our indispensable duty to persevere in digging for it, yet it is only in His own time that we are permitted to drink thereof.

His just appreciation of the nature of meetings held for the discipline of the Church, and of the spirit in which they are to be conducted, is shown in an early part of the Diary.

3 mo. 15.—­Was at our Preparative Meeting.  The queries having to be answered, I was led into deep thoughtfulness respecting the same, and inwardly solicited that the Father of mercies would lend his divine aid, in the performance of such important duties; which I have reason to believe was in some measure answered, for they were gone through with a degree of ease and comfort to my own mind.  May I ever keep in remembrance the testimonies of his love which are so often manifested!

8 mo. 17.—­Meeting for discipline at Burton.  The forepart was conducted, I think, to edification; but in the latter, one subject occupied much time unnecessarily, and did not conclude to general satisfaction.  When some whose spirits are not well seasoned, speak to circumstances which they may not have sufficiently considered, it sometimes does more harm than they may at first apprehend.

The entries in the Diary at this time shew many alternations of discouragement and comfort, and of that deep searching of his own heart from which he seldom shrank, and which is the only way to the liberty and peace of the soul.

4 mo. 12.—­In contemplating the gracious dealings of the Almighty with me from time to time, I have been led to query, Is it not that I might, by patiently submitting to the turnings and overturnings of his most holy hand, become fashioned to show forth his praise?  But alas! where are the fruits?  Is not the work rather marring as on the wheel; can I, in sincerity say, I am the clay, Thou art the potter?  I feel weary of my own negligence; for it seems as if the day with me was advancing faster than the work, I fear lest I should be cast off for want of giving greater diligence to make my calling sure.  O may he who is perfect in wisdom strengthen the feeble desire which remains, and melt my stubborn will into perfect obedience by the operation of his pure spirit.