EXPERIENCE OF ANGELINE CONLEY...

This blessed saint was writing in the midst of the bloodiest conflict in the history of the United States, yet she had inner peace - ed.

Elder Beebe.

Enclosed you will find $1.00 for the renewal of my subscription to the Signs of the Times. Your paper has been a welcome messenger to me for more than eight years. More and more do I prize them when I think how soon the time may come when this gospel which is published in your paper shall cease to be published. For the man of sin is now worshipped above all that is called God. Abomination that makes desolate is standing where it ought not in the holy places. The popular clergy from their pulpits loudly called upon the people to beat their plowshares into swords and their pruning hooks into spears. It seems to me that darkness covers the Earth and gross darkness the people. The Lord only knows what fearful things awake this once happy and blessed land. He has set up the saints. You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt has lost its savor wherewith shall it be salted? Sodom and Gomorrah could have been saved if ten righteous men could have been found there. Has the influence of the righteous ceased on this land? God will not always strive with men, but if this world should become. Like one troubled sea, should kingdoms and empires fall? Should this government be rent to atoms should rivers run with blood and the fowls of the air feast upon the carcasses of the slain, yet there is a Kingdom that shall stand forever. And I rejoiced that Emmanuel Reigns, and of his glory, he will not give to another. Although there is nothing here that is abiding, there is a home which is not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. And if I could not sometimes feel that my name is written in the palm of my Redeemer's hand, my heart would fail with fear. Had I not a hope beyond this vale of sorrow? I should be, of all, the most miserable. But glory to the most high God. He gave his only begotten son to bleed and die for sinners, of whom I am chief. He has wrought a robe that covers our pollutions and hides our uncleanliness. Even the robe of his own righteousness, and he has cast it all around the poor sinner who trembles at his word. To him who is of a broken heart and of a contrite spirit, he will look, and to him, that thinks upon his name. He shall be his in the day when Jesus makes up his jewels. I am glad that a book of remembrance is written before the Lord for them who think on his name, and that he himself my judge, and that he knows that I think upon his name. But sometimes when contemplating my hard heart. I have to exclaim with the poet:

The rocks can rend,  the hills can shake, 

The seas can roar,  the earth can quake, 

Of feelings all things show some sign,

But this unfeeling heart of mine.

But when one glimmering ray of light penetrates my heart, though it ever be so hard it can soften it to the flesh and melt my eyes to tears. I think the last time I saw you, which was the meeting at Lakeville, was a long time to be remembered by me. Did not the Lord spread the feast? And was it not in his banqueting house? And was not his banner over US love? There was a rich gleaming there, and it was in the field, Boaz. There his maidens did gleam. There was milk for the babes and meat for the strong. Who can provide, as the Lord does for his children? Or who can know their wants, like our Heavenly Father? When I recount his mercies that he has measured out to me from day-to-day, I wonder why I should be backward in his cause or shun to say to all who fear, fear the Lord come and hear what he has done for me, and why am I not always ready to give a reason for my hope with meekness and fear? I trust he has taken me out of the horrible pit and miry clay, and put my feet upon a rock, and established my goings, and put a new song in my mouth, even praise to his name, for his great love wherewith he has loved me, and that he did not leave me to perish in my sins, but gave light in his light. And discovered to me that my steps took hold on Hill. And he showed me that it was my sins, my cruel sins, that nailed him to the rugged tree of the cross. How weighty must have been that load when he who holds up. This ponderous globe was made to sweat, as it were been the great drops of blood falling to the ground. Such love has no man.  It surpasses the love of women. But he died to redeem his bride, and he did not die in vain. For when he shall appear, she shall appear with him in glory. The House for which the foundation is laid shall be built, for it is the foundation of the apostles and prophets, and Jesus Christ Christ himself, that chief cornerstone. The stone was taken out of the mountain without hands, and a topstone shall be brought with shoutings, crying, grace, grace unto it.

Brother Beebe. If one so unworthy may so call you, I never but once before have I written for your paper, feeling my inability to write. But it seemed my duty to send a remittance, and in doing so, in my mind was led to write with the foregoing. I hope it may do no harm to any if it failed to do any good. If I have added to or taken from what is written in a sacred book, may the Lord Forgive. Do it with it as your judgment may dictate.

Yours in the truth.

Angeline Conley
Pratssburgh, New York
January 3, 1862