which she had had with her, that although she was desirous of becoming religious, (as she had heard others express it,) she could not make herself despise the world and love God; and after what had passed on the subject, it was not likely that she should entertain much hope of better success. Mary thought that had they proclaimed the Saviour as her own eyes read his character in the word of life, as the Friend of sinners, the Refuge for the destitute, the Joy of Israel, the Comforter of the afflicted, the Defence of the helpless, the Strength of the powerless, the Wisdom, the Righteousness, the Sanctification, the Redemption of the sinnerthat persons conscious of their need of such a salvation and such a Saviour, would have heard of Him with delight, and accepted Him with gratitude; but here was no offer of Him in all these glorious and endearing relations; those whom the world had ensnared in its entanglements were not told to go to Jesus for freedom; they might sigh and groan over their captivity, but unless they could set themselves free, and go to Christ healed of the love of the world, and free from the power of sin, they could not be pronounced religious characters, but might consider themselves excluded from His favour. "Oh!" said Mary, sighing from her inmost

G

soul, "what a depressing, hopeless, fearful way of presenting the Gospel of life! Blessed be God! ever blessed be his holy name, who has so graciously revealed His covenant to me, and made me see my own emptiness and the fulness and sufficiency of my blessed Saviour! Come what may, His faithfulness shall never fail; and He who made the whole host of heaven has promised to keep me safe to the end! Oh, what am I, that my name should be written in the Lord's book of life! a worthless wretched mass of wicked vile depravity! by nature opposing God, and now while in a state of grace, perpetually rebelling against Him! Holy, holy, Lord God! what am I that thy loving-kindness should be so wonderfully manifested to me! Yet I am saved! saved without condition; the Lord's own Christ has shed his blood for me; my sins are blotted out, my transgressions remembered no more; I am justified from all things; this mass of corruption made complete in Him; this body of sin and death covered by the garment of His righteousness. Whoever will may take of the water of life freely; I desire to drink no other. Weary of sin and self, oh, what a precious Saviour does Jesus appear, and what a gracious provision for destitute sinners! Lord God, increase my faith. Draw me nearer to

Thyself. Show me more of thy loving-kindness. Make me to abhor myself. Cause me to see all sufficiency, and beauty, and glory in Christ. Teach me to love Him more, enable me to trust Him better. Thou blessed Saviour, whom my soul would adore, let me not dishonour Thee. Teach me to do thy will, to study thy gracious pleasure in all things, to have no desires but for thee. Crucify in me all these frightful sins that separate between Thee and me. Raise me to nearer communion with Thyself. God of my life, let my voice be raised in one endless song of thanksgiving, for Thou hast redeemed my soul, and wilt preserve it unto life eternal."

CHAPTER VI.

'WHY ART THOU CAST DOWN, O MY SOUL? AND WHY ART

THOU DISQUIETED WITHIN ME!'-Psalm xlii. 5.

SURELY, SHALL ONE SAY, IN THE LORD HAVE I RIGHTEOUSNESS AND STRENGTH.'-Isaiah xlv. 24.

MR. HARDING and Mr. Conroy having agreed to go into Devonshire together, Mrs. Harding wrote to her sister, who resided about thirty miles distant, offering to take Mary with her, and remain till the return of the two gentlemen.

It was one of those still calm evenings, in the month of July, which frequently succeed a sultry day, when they arrived within the last few miles of their journey. The sun had just gone down and left behind a faint glow over the surrounding hills; the woods were partially thrown into deep purple shade, and reflected their broad rich shadows on the bosom of a river which flowed beneath; glances of bright lingering rays blazed along the water and caught

the sails of a solitary fisherman's boat which was gliding down towards its haven." "How

lovely this scene is! how very lovely!" said Mary, contemplating it with extreme admiration.

Mrs. Harding raised her full expressive eyes, and sighing, repeated, "Lovely indeed! if man had not defaced it by sin. This world would truly seem a paradise if God were honoured as he ought, and man were not disobedient; but one sees every where the marks of his apostacy, and one's own heart weighs one down with the burden of sin, till external beauty ceases to please, and every thing reminds us that earth is indeed a wilderness. I am tired of self, and tired of unbelief, and tired of every thing but heaven!" And she sighed again deeply.

"Tired of self and unbelief," Mary added, "but not tired of Christ, in whom our life is said to be hid; and in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.""

"But I cannot love him as I would, Mary, and I feel so cold and dead, and so unworthy of His favour, that at times I scarcely dare imagine myself a child of God."

"Oh! Mrs. Harding, how can you speak so! is it not, surely, ingratitude, after the many proofs