Over nine years ago I sat in the depths of despair, with no hope in my heart, no light, no joy, and no prospect of ever being happy again.
I had laid away, one by one, my loved ones, until I was left in my home with only one daughter, and now I was told I must give her up too. The best and most skilful M. D.'s of the day had told me there was no hope for her to be restored to health.
For thirty-five years, I had been a member of the Methodist Church, honestly and earnestly, according to my best light, seeking to gain an understanding of God, —at least in some degree. I had been a member of the board of managers of nearly every charitable institution here, always with the one thought,—to find God, to know something of what He was like, to get near enough to Him to know that when I prayed He would hear me.
