been misrepresented, and been the unwilling cause of leading others astray, I will seek unto my God to make it so bright with his own beams of love, that all may see that it was lighted by Him, and will soon shine in heaven. Animating hope! but unlike the reality. Much is to be done in my soul ere it can be thus. Oh, my God, come and work in me by thy good Spirit, and make me delight in the great work; knowing that the time is short, the account soon to be given in and for ever made up! I wish all the church on earth had their gaze so bent on God that their faces might shine, as did the face of Moses on the mount. Ah! but who will, like him, be forty days in fasting and prayer, and close converse with God! Were there more of this, the holy name would not be so often evil spoken of, through our inconsistencies. Next Sunday, baby's maid is to come, for the first time, to the table. I have staid at home to-day that she may go to church. I write with my lively babe on my knee, May I get help to train this sweet gift of God for himself.' CHAPTER XII. GROWTH IN LOVE. It is delightful to observe Mary's advancement in Chris. tian love, which is so conspicuous as her few years rolled away. Love is of all the graces best.' Humility in its exercise is inevitably connected with mournful convictions of unworthiness-even Hope, that day-star of the soul, is not satisfied with the present, it embraces future bliss; but Love, in whatever measure it exists, is actual enjoyment. Blessed be He who constructed the human heart! its capacities for loving are immeasurable ;-its elasticity, its expansive powers, are commensurate with the objects of attraction. Even in an evil world, and with a heart fettered by remaining corruption, and trammelled by its case of clay, its capabilities are boundless; and, instead of being attenuated by expansion, it is consolidated, and becomes capable of still greater and greater efforts of usefulness, of self-denial, of tender and watchful observance. Exercised in solitude, its breath is prayer, its thoughts are sympathy, its devices are usefulness.-Exercised in socie. ty, its track is mercy, its eye-beam is benevolence, its words are peace.-Exercised towards the reconciled God in Christ Jesus our Righteousness, it is gratitude, praise, humble adoration, joyful anticipation, peace,-eternal, unconquerable peace-begun below, but having its stronghold far above, out of sight of earth. 'The love that leans on a celestial urn, Scatters a thousand streams,-nor seeks return; So was it. She was 'hastening with her God to dwell.' Many expressions in the diary and letters convey the idea that her anticipations of an early removal from this scene had been frequent and strong. Yet it does not appear that this arose from any conscious infirmity; for her exertions were increased, rather than relaxed. It was her longing to be free from sin, to see the face of Him whom, having not seen, she loved;'-it was her consciousness of the ungenial clime that earth afforded, which led her to be looking out as for the dawn, and to be asking, with the Pilgrim, How far from home, O Lord, am I?'-and which produced such expressions as that just quoted from her diary, 'that all may see that it was lighted by Him, and will soon shine in heaven.' To her sister she writes of her father, on the sixth anniversary of the day when he was taken from us :- I had a quiet and solitary morning on the 16th, recalling all the past, and seeking grace for the future. How sweet is every remembrance of our beloved father! His tenderness to his children, his compassion for the sorrowful, his sorrow for the sinful, and his desire to win them by love,— come back in sweet memorial to my heart, and furnish a model I should love to imitate.' She then adds, I hope, dear, you have been able to attend "the preachings" with comfort and profit. Ah, how much too seldom that sweet ordinance comes in our country! I, for one, am sure it would quicken me greatly to have it often; but the presence of the Master of the feast is the great matter, and I trust He was made known to you in the breaking of bread.' To her surviving parent, her sympathizing love was so true, so extensive, so minute, so intelligent, that it seems a thing alone, in counting up wilderness mercies.' Many children receive parental kindness and exertion as matters of course, and so they are; but Mary counted and dwelt on each new act as a new and undeserved treasure; anticipated each meeting as a joy almost too much for earth, and never, on any parting, could restrain her tears. The sketch of that faithful heart would be incomplete, without a glance into that deep well of love. In reference to the indisposition of a member of the family, she writes:-'I feel concerned at what you say of his health; but, my dear mamma, I think that having been long enough in this weary world to see the fading of those you loved, you are perhaps more alarmed than the things you have mentioned sanction. But be assured that, while I write this, I am keenly alive to every thing that makes you anxious, and shall make it matter of prayer, as well as of the most tender sympathy. I trust, my mother, there are yet in store for you many days of peace and happiness here, ere you are called to the blessed land where grief will be remembered but as a dream of the night.' Uncle Henry says it is possible you may come too. Oh, my dear, dear mamma, I dare hardly think of it, lest you should not! It would be indeed a delight beyond what I have dared to hope, to see you so soon again. If you can come, do write soon, and give me the happiness of knowing it. You will now, I hope, come and see your longing children. It will renew your youth (at least it does mine) to see your merry little youngest daughter laughing and springing, and shaking her sage bit head at you.' · February 27, 1838.—My heart was with you on Sunday, when I believe you were engaged at the Lord's Table; and yesterday, when you would be in church, I read a sermon of J. B. Patterson's on the subject. I trust you were refreshed and strengthened to go on your way rejoicing, looking for and hasting to the blessed time when there shall be no more sickness of heart, but abounding peace in the presence of Him who has redeemed us. Oh! that this delightful hope had more effect on our daily life, making us seek more close and frequent communion with God, and bringing every thought, and word, and disposition, into subjection to His will.' Of her father-in-law she writes, I could scarcely love him more if he were my very own father. I feel most tenderly alive to every thing connected with him. I wish he would write to me twice a-year or so.' Few have felt more tenderly, or yet endured more cheerfully, that which all must feel, who love ardently, and are divided from what they love. The following extract from a letter, written after parting from her new-year's party of youthful relatives is introduced here, rather beyond its date, because it at the same time expresses her love for them, and something of her delight in being a mother:— 'Cleish, Jan., 1833.-My dearest E., this is Wednesday, and though I have survived the departure of the dear young party, I have felt weary, and my head has ached ever since; missing them at every turn, and remembering twenty things I meant to have said, but did not. Time flew with such envious speed, that many things were left undone it is difficult to apportion every hour aright, "When all the sands are diamond sparks, That glitter as they pass.” * * I Oh! it is sad to be parted from all one's early circle; from every face that helped to make childhood happy; and this is perhaps more felt in a solitary place than it might be else. where. I want to express my joy that the painful part of your dear sister's affair is over, and the happy time is come. She will be astonished at the degree of her own happiness, I believe, when her little new one twines himself about her heart with absorbing power. I long to know how she does feel. With me, when the shock was over, my predominant emotions were wonder, and gratitude, and dependence. I felt completely in the hands of God, and saw his wisdom and love in events from which I should otherwise have shrunk. It was a very happy state, and the new fountain of love opened in my heart, seemed to flow out to every body, as well as to the dear little object of it. trust your nephew is one of those little ones who are precious in the sight of the kind Shepherd. My brother George is not strong. He had frequent indisposition while here, and so many holiday exercises, that it was scarcely holiday at all for him, poor fellow! He is a most dear and affectionate brother, and so considerate and loving, that he really is not like any other youth I ever knew. To be sure I have not known many as I know him. He used to come to the piano about nine for his greatest treat, and he is so fond of music, that the simplest little melody is not lost on him. He said he should not take well with the bachelorhall they keep in Glasgow after this. He is very much in earnest about divine things. Oh! how I wish it were possible for me to be near him, and of any comfort and use to him.' Of her elder brother she wrote: days Corie spent with us very much. We enjoyed the six |