We are immortal beings, and our interests lie beyond the tomb. We were created for the pleasure of God, and placed in this vestibule of being to prepare for His service in higher spheres. Of what vast consequence that we walk in the paths of virtue and religion.

But I ought not to weary your patience, and I will close this protracted epistle. Mr. W (her pastor) and C. G***** called here to-day. I had long wished to see my pastor; but he came in so unexpectedly, that I was much agitated, and did not converse with him as I wanted to. I could not compose myself enough to tell him my feelings. I am little used to such scenes, but I trust I shall behave myself better the next time. He promised to call again soon, and before he left he prayed with us, and I hope his prayer was answered. Dear H, I have freely unbosomed my soul to you, but I know no one but yourself will ever see this rude letter.

YOUR OWN MARY.

There is, in all her productions, an air of simplicity, which is delightful. She was a child of Nature, and the softness and repose of her writings mirror forth the blandness of her feelings.

She could not write without impressing her very soul upon the page, so artless and unstudied was every intellectual movement; her pen was, in all cases, the agent of her heart. She was always distinguished for original thought, and her mind was from early childhood constantly dwelling upon moral themes. She could not write or converse long without bordering upon the solemnities of revealed truth, and she seems to have been always familiar with eternal realities. She could not allude to the guilt of others without coming home to scrutinize the secrets of her own bosom.

Although her disposition was remarkably amiable, and her talents of the finest order, her heart, alive to the noblest emotions of sympathy and benevolence, her mental powers and moral feelings highly cultivated; and although grace had poured its transforming influences over her spirit, elevating, softening, and refreshing with life, verdure, and holiness her whole person; yet she cherished so deep a penitence, and such abasing views of herself, that she did not entertain any hope of salvation.

She exhibited all the Christian graces except hope. But the promise was laid up for her

in store: "Then shall ye know, if ye follow on to know the Lord."

She was yet to emerge from this eclipse with no common splendor.

"They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up on eagles' wings; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint."

CHAPTER VII.

"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted."

CHRIST'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT.

It is the author's design to draw a faithful picture of Mary's life, and the reader's attention is kindly solicited to this chapter, which will describe her feelings for a year or two previous to her obtaining a hope.

Her mind was long clouded with the most distressing doubts, and she frequently passed through seasons of fasting, penitence, and prayer, which have often reminded me of the horrid gloom which settled upon the soul of the pious Cowper. But they were not characterized by such awful elements of thick darkness and despair as that cloud which settled like the mantle of night over his broken spirit. For he has said of himself, with graphic power,

"I was a stricken deer, that left the herd
Long since; with many an arrow deep infixed
My panting side was charged, when I withdrew
To seek a tranquil death in distant shades."

They were rather seasons of deep heartsearching and self-scrutiny, which every Christian who makes unusual attainments in grace often experiences. They are the necessary exercises of the mind when it pierces the recesses of the soul by the light and guidance of eternal truth. They are truly philosophical, as much so as the tears Newton shed when he learned his own insignificance from the grandeur of the heavens. How many tears are shed by the child of God in his closet, and how often does the cloud of sadness rest upon his brow amid the walks of life, from doubt and uncertainty respecting his spiritual state! How protracted is the struggle through which he must pass; how many days and nights he must consume in watchfulness and devotion before he gains that bold eminence in the straight and narrow way which leads to his Father's house, where, with unclouded vision and enraptured soul, he casts his eye beyond the blue-waved Jordan,

"To Canaan's fair and happy land,

Where his possessions lie."

These mounts of vision greet the footsteps. of the Christian only at long intervals, and between