Lydia_Gay_Diary

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The diary of Lydia Gay Ingallas (1832-1840), wife of Mr. Daniel Ingallas of Boston, is one of sorrow. She was born in Massachusetts on July 25, 1765 and was extremely devout.

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Satermorning I road out for the first time since last November March 11 It is the Sabbath: and, on account of the great dampness of the weather, and my peculiar liabilty of late to take cold I have felt it my duty to remain at home, what multitudes of persons in health forsake the assembling of themselves to hear the word of life, In whatever light we view the Sabbath, wether with regard to its origin, influence, or effects upon Society, we must ever consider it one of the greatest benefits conferred upon Mankind, were the holy Sabbath is disregarded, and the duties connected with it negleted, there the curses of god fall heavly there are mildew and blasting. pestilence and death What kind of apology, then can I make for ourselves We, who have been, or are now guilty of violating the Sabbath of the lord, either by precept or example O may we never robbing god of that is his own

how carful then ought we to live With what religious fear:

Last edit about 2 years ago by Jannyp
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Sabbath afternoon this day has passed away rapidly and happily. Oh. the real bliss that I have enjoyed such love to God: Such a desire to glorify him. So Shall the day dawn, And the day Star arise in thine heart: So shall the leght dispel thy darkness: and thou Spiritually instructed be enabled to discern the Spiritual things of god [Indented into center of the page] Is there ambition in my heart: Search gracious god and see; Or do I act a haughly part lord I appeal to thee. I charge my thoughts. be humble still and all my carriage mild content my father. with thy will. And quiet as a child. the patient soul. the lowly mind Shall have a large reward [End indent]

Last edit almost 2 years ago by emorgan
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let Saints in Sorrow lie resined and trust a faithful lord this psalm the Rev Mr. Gray sung after the death of his Brother to comfort his Mother in her deep distress She was holy woman when I call to see her in her troble She said, that she thought that She Should dye in her rest the words of job She was truly a Saint on the earth, and I had Sweet fellowship with her. I was not more with her, but I hope to meet her in heaven with palms in her hands and with all the Dear friends of that Society wich we ware members of, we love one/ Eachother very much, and when I think of them it a pears is they ware present to me, a number of ladies vist Ms G Mad Mason Mrs Bowers Miss Perry Mrs [H?]askinss and my self we had seasons of prayer, when the carriage came to the dove, Mrs Mason said children jump in

Last edit about 2 years ago by hd517
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12 rain and thunder and lighting and was wether for the season I had very restless night but am better then I expected , O that I might be truly sensible of the goodness of god to me, Eleven Month this day that Lydia was numbered withe the dead to the valley of the shadow of death, the world for a brief Moment seems a blank, and all our joys, like flowers, Withered by the rude, rough blast, droop and are no longer Lovely to the senses, A dark cloud hangs over our destiny, Death’s black eclipse has overshadowed us, and I am, Brooding over our Sorrows and will not be comforted. [Indented into center of the page] Sweet innocent, farewell thourt gone to mingle with the blest above And we are left to weep alone, And still thy memory fondly love, [End of indent]

Last edit about 2 years ago by hd517
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March 13 Blesed are the dea that die in the Lord, when we visit the dying friends of christens, what comfort and consolation to Set by there bed, for instance Mrs Waters the Angels ware hovering a round her, and She Saying come lord jesus come quickly. My Dear Mrs Mason I call to see a week before her death She told me that for years She had no doubt of her assurance of happiness, She was like the beloved Disciple jhon, She told me that my family lay on her Mind a fortnight. then she was waiting to departand be with christ. what a comfort to have the prayrs of Such eminet holy faith. The lord is gather in all the Sisters of our society Mrs Gore She died in the triumph Faith [Indented into center of the page] unveil thy bosom, faithful Tomb. take this new treasure to thy trust And give these Sacred relicks room to Slumber in thy Silent dust. [End of indent]

Last edit about 2 years ago by hd517
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