The next summer, 1794, corn grew dear, and distress began in our land.
The first is last, and the last is first.
New-Year's Day arriving, and the ministers, to whom I wrote, remaining silent, I consider their silence as evidence, that they cannot prove what I said not to be from the Lord, and have therefore published as I was directed.
I was now ordered to have my writings copied, and put into the printer's hand.
In 1792, my Sister told me, I was growing out of my senses.
If they can prove that I am wrong by that time, I will give it up to their wisdom, but not after to any one's judgment, till I see the end of another year; for the Lord will begin with a new century; and I will see what he will do, before I will hearken to any man's judgment.