Mr. Austen encouraged her by arguments drawn from that divine source she was now beginning to taste; and added, "That, while the ignorancesand omissions of the young claimed our compassion, it was grievous to think how many, who could offer no such apology for their conduct, yet lived regardless of the religion they professed. You, my Frances, pity the ancients; the feeling is consistent, if you justly estimate the happier light under which we live. But the real objects of pity, are those who, unmindful of the covenant they have made with the Omnipotent ruler of the universe, absolve themselves from the engagement, while health and prosperity surround them, and yet would renew the contract, when the pleasures of this world lose their value. These are really pitiable objects!"

"I remember a passage in Archbishop Tillotson's Works which treats this subject admirably," said Miss Colville. Taking out her pocket-book, she referred to a memorandum, and bade Frances get

the volume. "It is on Early Piety," resumed Miss Colville, "and it is found in the first volume, page 523." Frances was desired to read it: she obeyed. -"As if Heaven were an hospital founded on purpose to receive all sick and maimed persons, that, when they can live no longer to the sinful pleasures of this world, they can but put up a cold and formal petition to be admitted there. Can any man in reason expect that such a petition will be granted "

Mr. Austen extolled the extract, and recommended the volume to Caroline's notice.

Frances whispered something to Miss Colville. "You are perfectly correct," was the return: it is the same Calanus. "What do you know of Calanus?" asked Mr. Austen, smiling.

"He burned himself on a funeral pile, papa," replied Frances; "being unable to bear a painful disease. I think Alexander the Great endeavoured to dissuade him from it, but could not prevent him."

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"This is well remembered, Frances, said her father; "I thought you had something to say by your looks. Have you not been meditating the introduction of this observation ?"

"Why, yes, papa," answered Frances; "I was thinking that what Calanus said of the religion of the Brahmans was so like the true history of the Bible, and I wondered such a man should yet commit suicide."

"The word Brama is supposed to be derived from Abraham," said Mr. Austen; "and that, in a country where God gave his laws, some remnants of his wisdom and power should remain, is not wonderful. But while this is reconciled by historic facts, it is equally certain that, in the course of time, the pure stream became polluted. Man opposed his theories; vanity led him to promulgate them; and, while the real attributes of the Deity occasionally received due honour, it was unknowingly. Self-denial, and an insenbibility to all bodily pain, was peculiar to one sect of philosophers.

Your friend Calanus seems an exception to this; but it is questioned whether the desire of being celebrated in after-ages did not influence Calanus. Of a future state they entertained confused ideas; their lives were in numberless instances blameless. That right they assumed to themselves of terminating existence, when age, or their false notions of honour, made its duration insupportable, appears to us criminal in the extreme. But the world was then in darkness, Frances! The day-spring from on high had not visited the earth! From that period when God gave his only Son to be at once a propitiation and a sacrifice for sin, man became expressly accountable for his actions. He can no longer sin from ignorance, for the way of life is laid open to him; and, if he err wilfully, he knows the liability to which he is exposed. You, my child, may at some future day have occasion to observe how rigidly mankind perform those engagements with their fellow-mortals which can increase their property or further

their ambition!

All difficulties seem

trivial when opposed to these objects; yet the issue of these things is always uncertain, and even success does not produce content. Now reflect, Frances, and tell me if you have not entered into an engagement infinitely more serious than any the world can exact?"

Frances hesitated. She looked to Miss Colville; and at length said, "You allude to the Catechism, papa; and that part, a member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.""

"I do," said Mr. Austen; "and can we really pretend to a character of integrity or honesty, when these Christian obligations are forgotten? They are offered for us in infancy, because those interested in our eternal welfare know all the importance of the engagement they make in our name: we take the responsibility upon ourselves in riper years, for it is then believed. We must gladly avail ourselves of promises so eminently merciful. For, is it not self-evident that