and silver; the precious stones were utterly demolished.

From that work this hitherto gaudy maiden came out as plain as a Quakeress,
and hastened to the Methodist prayer meeting. Seeing her thus evidently
taught of the Holy Spirit, they took hold of her case with new courage as
she bowed with them crying for mercy. The prayers of the early Methodists
were something wonderful, and this broken-hearted penitent drank into their
wrestling spirit. They claimed for her the "exceeding great and precious
promises," with mighty faith; she claimed these promises with them. They
took hold on Jesus; she put her hand with theirs into His with a strong and
steady grip, and He accepted her.

The conversion of Elizabeth was instantaneous, and exceedingly clear and
powerful, and its assurance overwhelming. Her long night was at once turned
into day, and that clear daylight was also a blaze of glory. Her joy was
ecstatic. Her tall form, which had been gaudily adorned, but now attired
for the meek and lowly Saviour, was at times prostrated by divine power,
and her regenerated soul filled with the rapture of heaven. Night and day,
for weeks, her only relief from ecstasy was by settling into solid
peace, thus alternating from the quiet valley of "peace that passeth
understanding" to the glory-crowned hilltops of "joy unspeakable."

After a sufficient time had elapsed to demonstrate the genuineness and
unfading glory of her experience, Elizabeth wrote home a plain account of
it, concealing nothing. This was the astounding and alienating letter that
so stirred up things at the Cove.