Moravian Lives

18.
by requesting permission to go with him.
He answered, not now, but you shall come
hereafter. Thereupon he vanished out of my
sight, and I awoke; my mind being impres=
=sed with such sensations of awe and grati=
=tude, as I cannot express in words. And
though I lay no stress upon dreams in gene=
=ral, yet I must, and do beleive  believe that this 
was permitted for wise purposes. My Hea=
=venly Father knew my critical situation, and
how dangerous it was to my youth and inex=
=perience, to be in my measure exposed to a 
vain and treacherous world, totally unacquaint=
=ed, as I was, with its enticing snares. And
He who wept at the grave of Lazarus, did 
not disdain to notice my tears and sorrows
over the loss of my best earthly Friend.
After the above mentioned circumstance my bur=
=then was somewhat alleviated. I felt a hum=
=ble confidence in God my Savior, and could
apply many precious promises contained in
His Holy word to my self. That tho Father=
=less children are peculiar objects of divine
compassion, is a consolatory truth, which
proves a balm to my wounded mind. I
beleived  believed that I had a Father in Heaven; who was
not unmindful of my individual concerns; and
this afforded me real comfort. But notwithstand=
=ing all the loving kindness and tender mercy
shown me by the Lord, at this memorable pe=
=riod of my life, I felt a dread of impending
danger into which I was liable to plunge, thro'