lity would have scattered only mildew, barrenness, and death.

Religion delights in every thing that can honor God or make man happy, and would have her votaries conversant with the works of Homer and Tacitus as well as those of David and Paul.

I cannot forbear quoting a single paragraph from the address of Albert Barnes before the Alumni of Hamilton College,, it is so forcible and apposite. He says:

"From the halls of this institution let not a love of classic learning ever depart; but may we be permitted to know that this is a spot where the academic grove shall be loved as well as the sweet retreats of piety, and where the heights of Parnassus shall be ascended by those who love also to climb the hills of Zion, and where rich draughts shall be drawn from the Castalian fount as well as from the waters of Siloam."

Religion seemed to have its legitimate influence upon Mary's mind; it elevated and refined all her tastes, developed and invigorated all her powers. Her genius was impregnated with the spirit of Calvary, and all her productions and all her deportments bespoke the high source of her

illumination. Her astonishing acquisitions under the heavy pressure of misfortune and privation, must be attributed mainly to the inspiring influences which radiated from the religion of her Redeemer.

From the moment when the anticipations of Christian hope first dawned upon her soul, she entered with alacrity upon the paths of Christian obedience. Her life was a steady and unwavering light, which, like the day-spring, shineth more and more unto perfect day. There were no fitful blazes of devotion in her walk. She never floated on the wave of social emotion. never resembled the rivulet which depends upon showers, sometimes babbling in a noisy torrent, and sometimes exhibiting a dry and empty channel. The spring-head of her religion was in God; hence the stream never died or fluctuated.

She

Although she loved the pleasures of solitude, and her happiest moments were spent in her closet, yet her piety exhibited nobler features. Like her Saviour, she "went about doing good." She was watchful of the interests of the cross, and the salvation of souls; and many who attribute their conversion under God to efforts and pray

ers, now live to heap honors upon her tomb, and "rise up and call her blessed."

She warned all her thoughtless associates day and night with tears, and many of them, who are still without God and without hope in the world," will remember her earnest but tender expostulations as long as eternity shall roll.

CHAPTER XII.

"Her sphere was humble, but that humble sphere
Shone with her fair example, and, though small
Her influence, yet that influence all was spent
In soothing sorrow and in quenching strife,
In aiding helpless indigence, in works,
From which at least a grateful few derived
Some taste of comfort in a world of woe."

Cowper.

ONE spectacle awoke Mary's bleeding sympathies, and elicited the following epistle in her eighteenth year. I am permitted to state the facts, and publish her letter entire.

Her sister

in the flush of young affection, had united her fortunes with one who afterwards fell a victim to the cruel monster Intemperance.

She felt deeply for her beloved sister, who had so early been bereaved of her husband's tenderness and affection by a misfortune more crushing than death. Mary had seen the storm sweep over her bosom, and she made a mighty and protracted effort for his reformation. Under the strong

impulses of a sister's love and a Christian's benevolence, she wrote this stupendous letter while on a bed of sickness.

DEAR SIR,

What shall I say to you, O my brother? Will you listen to the voice of a sister, who feels deeply for your happiness and the comfort of those around you? Will you listen to your fellow-mortal, and your companion in sin and infirmity; one who feels that she is but a babe in knowledge, and has a very turbulent world within, that requires all her counsel and advice? But let my conduct be ever so culpable, which I know it is, I cannot help seeing that you also are wrong; that the path you are pursuing has no termination but in ruin! Yes, my brother, everlasting woe!

I believe you are sensible that your temper is irritable. Well, are you not convinced that ardent spirits tend to increase that irritability? If you are not, as little as my experience has been, I have observed it with much concern, and so have your other friends. Oh! that you would listen to my voice, and shun this fatal evil; all around you are calling upon you to desist. You