CHAPTER XV. "In joyous youth, what soul hath never known PLEASURES OF HOPE. A BRIGHTER feature now opens upon the scene. A light appears, which will be greeted with pleasure by every one who loves human happiness. After years, homeless and sorrowful, had passed away, in which she had suffered those privations which chill the young heart's blood, Mary at last found a sanctuary of affection where she treasured up her love, and all her hopes began to rise in anticipation of the bliss of a bridal hour. She gave her heart away, and received a kindred one in return, and lived in the enjoyments of reciprocated affection. It appears that she was not married till about two years after her engagement, during which time she held a correspondence with her lover. A part of this correspondence is still preserved, and a portion of it will be given, for the purpose of showing the influence of love upon her mind; and also it may enliven the sketch, and serve to illustrate her general character. There was an air of chasteness and purity, and a tone of high principle, in her writings and address during the days of her betrothment, which redeem them from the character such scenes often assume. As Horace was "omnis in hoc" with his MSS. so was she with the religion of her Redeemer. And if we can decide from her letters, it is evident that the fires of love only fanned the flames of devotion, and her soul never kindled with holier or loftier aspirings to Jesus Christ than in the hour of "Love's young dream." We give the earliest date which they bear. DEAR B Jan. 30th, 1831. You will undoubtedly be surprised at an address on the subject of religion from one whose character you must have thought far, very far from being exemplary. But I hope you will not be offended if I thus silently speak to you of Jesus Christ, for she who addresses you loves your temporal and spiritual felicity. Yes, dear B it is my earnest desire that, living or dying, you may be always blest. When you consider my motive, I hope you will spread the mantle of charity over this epistle, and pardon me if I now break that silence which I have so long maintained on this momentous subject. I feel conscious of my guilt; and if you charge it upon me, I shall cheerfully receive your reproof, and hope it will tend in some measure to arouse me from that insensibility which pervades my moral feelings. Oh! can we refuse to listen to warnings and counsels on this subject, when they are whispered in our ears by Him who crowneth our lives with loving-kindness and tender mercies? Should we not live continually in the fear of him who is not unmindful of our happiness, although we have despised his beloved Son? Dear B, we desire happiness; it is a wish that is interwoven closely with the texture of our being; and how can we satisfy this ardent desire so well as by securing the favor of him who alone can bestow upon us permanent and lasting felicity? In the enterprise of holiness we may meet with opposition, and in entering the service of God be greeted with enemies; but a corrupt heart is the greatest enemy I find to oppose my progress. If Satan discovers any disposition to fly to God, any indication of heartfelt repentance, he will struggle hard for his expected prey. His mightiest effort is to persuade us to remain in bondage to sin, for if we continue but a little while, he knows that wretchedness and woe will be our eternal portion. Oh! B, would to God you would now in early life seek the pardon and grace of him who is not offended with the penitential prayer. Our hearts are extremely corrupt, but we are unconscious of their deep vileness until we see it under the divine illumination. We cannot sincerely desire that "a new heart" may be created in us until we feel the hardness and burden of the old one, which must be changed. Oh! that in early life you would seek this renovating power. Then you will not refuse your best affections to your Father. Dear B- what love can ever equal that of him who gave his life for our justification? Through this inestimable gift he condescends to solicit the love and obedience of creatures his own hand hath made. Can we be so ungrateful as to refuse him our deepest love? Will we not hereafter exclaim, " My father, thou art the guide of my youth; hold me that I may not sin; keep me that I may not go astray; and may the love of religious virtue be implanted deeply in my soul." The friend of penitent sinners surely has the strongest claim to our supreme affections. * I would rather have the friendship of Jesus Christ than all the wealth of the Indies; for what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul? What can be so soothing to a heart oppressed with sorrow as a consciousness that we possess the favor of God? What satisfaction can we have in thinking of his character or our own while in a state of alienation and forgetfulness of his claims? What are our worldly enjoyments, contrasted with the sublime pleasures of religion? What our worldly anticipations compared with her own? Are not all our temporal enjoyments stamped with vanity and vexation of spirit? We have almost every day striking proofs of the shortness of human life, and the uncertainty |