Daughters of the Cross: or Womans Mission | Page 4

moral and religious enjoyment, and pursued the miserable
phantom of human, earthly pleasure, until aroused by the Spirit and
made sensible of sin.
From early youth she had been accustomed to revere and study the
word of God and pray to her Father in heaven for the things which she
needed. Her pious parents had impressed the lessons of virtue on her
young heart, and she was accustomed, as she arose in the morning and
rested her head at night, to commend the keeping of her body and soul
to the care of an overruling, superintending Providence; but after

commencing the practice of dancing, and beginning to attend schools
where this vain practice was learned, she neglected the Bible, and
thought but little of the place of prayer. She found, after retiring at
evening from the gay and fascinating scenes of the dancing room, that
prayer and meditation were dull and tedious exercises, and concluded
to give them up. Closing the Bible, she laid it aside, and let it gather
dust upon the shelf, while vain and trifling volumes engaged her
attention. The door of her closet was closed, and she entered it not; and
all thoughts of God were banished from her mind, while the world
employed all her time. But God, who orders all things, was about to
perform on her heart a work of mercy and grace. She was a chosen
vessel to bear the name of Jesus to a land of darkness and despair.
When about thirteen years of age, she was sent by her parents to the
Academy at Bradford, to receive a systematic course of instruction.
Shortly after this a revival of religion commenced, and spread through
the school, and many were converted. The attention of Miss Atwood
was arrested and turned from vanity. "Must I be born again?" was the
searching question which she put to her own heart. The answer came to
her, and she began to seek the Savior. She seems not to have had deep
conviction; her mind, though agitated, was not overwhelmed, and the
subject was contemplated calmly. At length, with the melancholy fact
that she was a sinner, and endless condemnation before her, she was
pointed to the cross of Christ. The view was effectual. Jesus appeared
the Savior of sinners, of whom she was one, and faith gladly laid hold
on him as the way of escape from an awful death. A wonderful change
took place: she lost her love of folly and sin; prayer was sweet again;
the Bible was drawn from its resting-place and perused with new
pleasure; from both Bible and closet she derived pleasure such as she
had never before experienced; and she passed from a state of nature to a
state of grace.
Writing to her friends while in this mood of mind, she is willing to
admit that she has not had such an overwhelming view of the nature of
sin as some have, nor of the ecstatic joy which some experience on
conversion; but she had what was as good--a calm hope in the merits of
a crucified Savior, a high estimate of religion and religious privileges,
and an utter contempt for the pleasures and vanities of the world. She
had a holy love for all things good, and was able to

"Read her title clear To mansions in the sky."
At the time when Miss Atwood found this sweet and precious hope, the
church in Haverhill was in a low and languishing condition, disturbed
by internal divisions, and to a great extent destitute of the influences of
the Holy Spirit. In consequence of this state of the church she did not
unite herself with it, and at that time made no open profession of
religion. This neglect of a plain and obvious duty brought darkness
upon her mind, and shrouded her soul in gloom. God withdrew his
presence from his wayward and disobedient child, and left her in
sadness: she had refused to confess her Master openly and publicly in
the midst of trials and discouragements; and, grieved and wounded by
her conduct, he turned from her, and hid his face. Then was she in the
condition of the man who took into his own house seven spirits more
wicked than himself. There was no rest for her soul, no relief for her
anguished spirit. She realized how bitter a thing it is to depart from the
counsel of her Maker, and found momentary comfort only in the
forgetfulness of what she had enjoyed. At this period conscience was
awake, and to drown its voice she plunged into sin, sought pleasure in
all the departments of worldly intercourse, and thought as little as
possible of God and sacred things. In this attempt to drive away serious
inquiries she succeeded, and became