Letter from California.
By Daniel Eaton
DEAR BRO. WHITE:—I have been thinking for a number of months that I would write you a letter, but could hardly muster courage. This evening after I had done my day's work, I took a walk a short distance from the place of my residence, and as I had nobody but my own thoughts to consult with, it came forcibly to my mind that one year ago I think I was with the large class of the human family, but the Lord saw fit to turn me about and as I hope has added me to his church. For a number of weeks before I was converted, I felt sad and heavy-hearted, everything I cast my eyes upon seemed to wear a different aspect from what it formerly had done. I wanted to be alone, and be perusing the Bible. I had been previously to the meetings called Spirit Manifestations, which was where I had lived—a great excitement—and it seemed to set a terror on my mind. I felt assured that it was not of God, for it was mostly wicked men that practiced it; and he had forbidden necromancy in his word. I felt that judgment had first come to me, and that I was not prepared. I looked back on my past life checked with evil. I felt that I had tried to live honestly in the sight of men, but I was not honest in the sight of God. All my sins seemed to be rolled up before my mind, and were staring me in the face night and day, until at last I fell on the Rock and broke all to pieces. Nothing made me free but believing that God had forgiven me all. Some of the Advent brethren took me by the hand and I began to creep. The last year has been the happiest year of all my life. I saw you last Spring at Bro. Carpenter's in Oswego City, and you shook me by the hand. I wish you would send me those Advent papers regularly. I send you five dollars only. If it is any more than enough for one paper, send me such as you think best. I should be glad to send you more money, but at present my means are limited. I hope that I may be kept from the many delusions and spirits of devils that are now in the world, and at last meet you in your Father's house. I desire an interest in the prayers of the poor. Your unworthy brother.
DANIEL EATON.