her future wants, she found herself unexpectedly left destitute in the world.

It was indeed a day of affliction, of sore affliction to Mary, that which in a moment deprived her of a friend, kind and tender; and, ere its close, she heard what she had been unwilling to believe even the rage of bigotry could effect-her utter exclusion from her father's house and protection. Though friendless and destitute, his door and heart, she was informed, would be closed against her, unless she procured re-admission by returning to the religion she had left. If admission to my home and to the affections of my friends, can only be purchased on such terms, I must renounce all,' said Mary, with a swelling, almost breaking heart, but an unshaken mind.

Poor thing! she was now to learn another character of her redeeming God, as both her refuge and strength, and her fortress in the day of affliction. She was now for the first time to prove what is implied by leaving all to follow Jesus. To leave all! Oh! what a desolating pang is that, when the heart feels all the ties that bound it in earthly, but tender, much-loved chains, must be burst-are bursting at once when that abandonment of all the feelings we love to cherish and to own, leaves a blank, a chasm in our affections, the dreariness of which casts its shadow over all around us, making even what we look at and what we listen to, partake of the nature of that moral waste within. How blessed at such a time to feel the love of one, "who is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever."

It was, perhaps, with similar feelings, that Mary looked back to the scenes of her childhood and

youth, from the coach which, in her eighteenth year, was conveying her from them to the place where she had obtained a situation as governess. It was not, perhaps, in nature's power to overcome this, but that blessed "balm of Gilead," the love of God in Christ Jesus, took the barb from the arrow, and the poison from the wound. This young pilgrim was to experience that

"The path of sorrow and that path alone,

Leads to the world where sorrow is unknown.'

It is not the case with all who are journeying to "that good land," concerning which the Lord hath said, "I will give it to you," but some are called to tread" that path alone," and Mary was one of these; for, from the time she embraced "the truth as it is in Jesus," until she entered into the "rest that remaineth for the people of God," her lot seemed evidently to be among those whom the Apostle described as 66 persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed." The care and education of a number of pupils soon proved too much for a naturally delicate constitution; but she would not resign her situation while a hope of being able to discharge its duties remained. Though the gaiety of mind, for which she had been remarkable, was much subdued by the different aspect that was given to her life, her constant and extreme cheerfulness excited the surprise of all who knew she was left a forlorn outcast on the world, young and unequal as she was in appearance, to meet its trials and struggles. This disposition, which never forsook her, often concealed much and deep suffering, even in the earlier stages of her complaint; but she never

complained, never neglected, or relaxed in, the discharge of her duties. At length her state became visible to the family in which she dwelt: they had been kind to her-very kind, and the thought of parting was painful; it was only under a promise of a return, when health allowed, that they would consent to it. But Mary felt that relaxation was now too late: a violent unceasing pain in her side, and a total debility and wasting of her frame, made her unfit for any kind of employment; and she could only burthen her few Christian friends by allowing them to procure her a cheap lodging, from which she thought it probable she might not remove, until she entered "a house not made with bands, eternal in the heavens."

It was then my acquaintance with her commenced. I found her in a small, rather unwholesome-looking room, lying on the bed, apparently far gone in a decline; but in the absence of all external circumstances that would tend to strengthen such an idea, there was something in her appearance simply, in the intelligence of a clear forehead and deep blue eye, that at once impressed me with the feeling that a superior mind dwelt within that faded, failing, yet still very interesting form.

A young man and woman were sitting in the window, whose presence imposed so much restraint on me, that I hesitated to address her in more than the common inquiries after health, &c. which she answered with little interest, and suddenly looking up with an expression I yet seem to see, she said, I know you already—I have heard of you. Oh! if you knew how I prize Christian visits!' Perhaps it was the infrequency of such visits that, by making

her more anxious to improve them, gave to Mary's conversation a vivacity, an intelligence, an appearance of eagerness in the acquirement of religious information, which rendered it truly delightful, and contrasted strongly with the wasted, enfeebled frame, and hectic or pallid cheek of the poor young sufferer. But while I could have sat delightedly to listen to her, her thirst for spiritual advancement and belief of her own ignorance, made her continually look to, and wish to learn of others, as one who felt herself to be a babe in Christ. 'What do you think?—what is your opinion?' she would say, when I would much rather put these questions to her.

Some of her inquiries, on this first visit, I was unwilling to answer, fearing my replies would be offensive to the young persons present, who, I was informed, were Roman Catholics; but with an expressive smile Mary whispered to me, 'Speak the truth, it will do them no harm.' I forget what the question was, but I replied, that I could answer it from the Bible, and took up one which lay on the bed. I know it was connected with the doctrines of the Church of Rome, and an appeal to the Scriptures not being, in general, pleasing to the ears of the members of that Church, they started up as I read the passage, and flung out of the room with considerable violence, exclaiming against the sin people committed in coming to ruin the soul of a dying

creature.

To ruin the soul of a dying creature! the idea was enough to freeze every feeling of the heart! When I looked at Mary I saw her expressive countenance marked by shame and sorrow, but not altogether by such feelings as I expected; her eyes were cast down

and she did not raise them, while simply expressing her regret that her friends should insult me.

'Insult me!' I said, 'I did not look on their conduct as a personal insult.'

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'Oh! you were right, quite right,' Mary replied, quickly looking up, no, it was not meant as such. Ah! it is your religion, not yourself, they dislike and insult. Their conduct to me proceeds from the same source; they would love me, were it not for this; they did love me too, too well. Nay, I know it is the continuance of their love that causes my trials and persecutions. These two are all my family, or friends, who ever since came to see me, or, perhaps, will ever see me; that young man is my brother, our affection to each other was more, far more than what is common;' one large tear rolled down the flushed cheek of the speaker, but he, even he who is all tenderness, would think it a sin to treat me tenderly. Bigotry would deliver to fire and faggot, to terrify a wanderer back to the pale of that Church, beyond which they say there is no salvation. But it is for them, not for myself, I grieve; they know not the sin there is in offending even the least of Christ's little ones. I think I have somewhere met with an expressive saying: "When the heel on earth is wounded, the head from heaven crieth out." "Forasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my little ones, ye have done it unto me." No one can hate Christ's members, as such, and love Christ. Oh!' she continued, with a look of feeling which spoke unabated love to her brethren, after the flesh,' Is not their state awful? enemies to Christ in their hearts; seeking other saviours, resting on human merits! Oh! that they would flee out of

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