March, Tuesday 29. 1864
A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance; but by sorrow of heart the spirit is broken—Proverbs—
I am sitting in my little room alone, with the exception of my little family, who are more inclined to the silent embrace of Morpheus than any pleasures the quiet of my own society could give. Father was tired, went to his room early, gave us permission to sit up until 11 o’clock. I availed myself of it for a short time—finally withdrew to a more quiet scene, leaving Mr. Harbut, Mr. Pugh and Jim together with the girls, haveing a gay time. I have spent the day, how? I think it is how, Mr. Pugh & I played drafts most of the time, he beat me badly. I wonder in after years if I can recall this day, and imagine the same feeling of je ne sais quoi which I have experienced, there is a bright day fast approaching, I can’t say why, but I feel it—oh! my beautiful savior, only teach my heart to be pure and good, let no unholy thought or action lead me astray oh! keep me near thee, let thy influence and protection guide me from wickedness, in the paths of righteousness—hasten the day I am to be free from this melancholy—then I will prove my punishment has been great enough, and through my afflictions I am a child of God—oh! give me thy love, make me a christian. God bless my Brothers, and my dear old Father—