asy to maintain the contest; but now they begin to reproach me, and I fear that their attachment is on the decline. To survive the loss of their affection, an affection that once beamed with ineffable smiles of complacency, I think will be to live too long for my own peace. Where shall I find another home? Where shall I find another father? Oh! where shall I find bliss, if driven, as an exile, from parental kindness?” “But, my dear, though your parents are hostile to your religious opinions and habits, yet their hostility will not last for ever. They are disappointed by your not appearing in that rank of society in which they expected you to move; and mortified by the satirical remarks which your religious profession has provoked; but time will soften down these asperities of feeling, and they will eventually tolerate what they may never be disposed to support." ." "But what ought I to do? Am I to sacrifice religious principle to parental solicitation? I have been advised to do it. I am told that obedience to my parents is the cardinal virtue of Christianity. I admit it; it is a virtue which ought to bloom in the breast of every child; and yet I feel that I cannot give it that form of expression which they wish. It is this that aggravates my woe. I love them, I revere them, I would sacrifice my health and my life to please them; but I cannot, I dare not, sacrifice my conscience."

"Your situation," said Mrs. Stevens, "is very delicate and painful, but you must remember that you are under the peculiar protection of the Redeemer. He has all power in heaven and on earth; and works all things after the counsel of his own will. He can cause light to spring out of darkness, and often comes forth to deliver his people, when they despair of help. I would advise you to be firm, yet temperate; to blend the utmost degree of kindness with your inflexible decisión; to avoid every appearance of eccentricity; not to introduce religious questions in conversation at an improper time; and when you do introduce them, cautiously abstain from minor and subordinate ones; bear reproach without losing your temper; never discover an eagerness, nor a willingness, to expose erroneous views of truth, unless you have reason to conclude that it can be done without giving offence; and as a

general maxim, prove the truth, and the excellence of your religious belief, more by the eloquence of a holy life, than the eloquence of the tongue." "1 sometimes think," said Miss Roscoe, that I shall sink beneath my afflictions; but at other times, I rise above them; I know that it is through much tribulation that the righteous are to enter the kingdom; and I know also, that amidst all their tribulations, they enjoy peace. The candidate for immortality ought not to object to the cross; but when the cross is constructed by the hand of those we love, it becomes peculiarly oppressive. After much deliberation and many prayers, I resolved on writing to my parents, and placed in the hands of my father, as I left home, a letter, of which the following is a copy.

"I hope you will excuse the liberty which I now take, in addressing to you this letter; and give me credit for the ingenuousness of the motives which dictate it. I have recently witnessed the decay of your affection towards me. This is a calamity which I want words to describe. I have long known, from the testimony of others, that sorrow is in the world; and I once tasted its bitterness; but my unsuspecting breast never anticipated it springing up within the sacred inclosure of home. I know that you are offended with me for having embraced my present religious opinions; and lest you should associate with my belief, opinions which I do not hold, I will state them. I believe that we are sinful and degenerated creatures;-that Jesus Christ died to expiate the guilt of sin, and that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit our nature is renovated, and made holy. I believe that the truths which are revealed in the scriptures, are designed to produce a deep moral effect on the heart; and that where this internal moral effect is produced, it will coustrain a person to regulate the whole of his conduct by the laws of the scripture. Hence arises a singularity of character which the world, in every age, and in every country, condemns; but is not this singularity of character in accordance with the avowed design of Christianity? Do we not read, that the real Christian will run to no excess of riot; that he will abstain

from the appearance of evil,- that he will not conform himself to the customs and habits of the world, -that he will give diligence to make his calling and election sure, work out his own salvation with fear and trembling,-grow in knowledge and in grace,love an unseen Redeemer, and become willing to bear the reproaches of others, rather than make a shipwreck of his faith?-These are the most prominent and essential opinions which I have embraced; and I appeal to your candour, if they are not sanctioned by the high authority of the scriptures. And as no human force ought to be employed to compel me to embrace them, I appeal to your candour, if any ought to be employed to compel me to renounce them? Ought I not to enjoy the right of thinking and deciding for myself?

"These religious opinions have produced in me precisely that peculiarity of character, which the scriptures declare will always distinguish a real from a nominal Christian; but ought this to subject me to reproach, and the loss of your affection? Shall I be visited by the sorrows of this world, because I pant after the felicities of the next; and be regarded as a deluded fauatic, because I feel the holy influence of the truth, which is attested by evidence too strong for me to resist?

"But you tell me, that I have disappointed your expectations, and that your hope of my future respectability in life is vanished. I know that I have disappointed your expectations; and it is this that embitters to me my life, and which at times induces me to long for the sheltering tomb, over which the storms may pass without disturbing my quietude. I know that you expected me to figure with the gay; to associate with the fashionable; and to join in the amusements of the theatre, the ball room, and the card party; and so I should, if I had not been convinced that I ought not to devote myself to such sources of gratification. I feel that I am moving onwards towards an endless state of existence, and that death may soon come and usher in the awful scenes of eternity. I ask, Will the gaieties of fashionable life disarm death of its sting; or fit me for an entrance into heaven? Can I suppose that such a method of consuming my time would be pleasing to Him who hath commanded me to redeem it; or that it

would afford me any satisfaction in prospect of the solemnities of the future judgment? No. As I am a stranger to a vacillating spirit, I have decided; and a paramount regard for the authority of God, and my high responsibility to Him, and not caprice, has led to this decision, which has unfortunately produced the wreck of your happiness, while it has become the sheet anchor of my own. Nor was it in my power to prevent this decision, unless my reason had been dethroned, or my mind made the abode of conflicting passions too painful to be endured. In coming to this decision, I have made no wanton attack on your peace; but merely followed the convictions of my own conscience, which I think no one ought to wish me to disregard.

"And why should your hope of my future respectability in life be permitted to vanish? Is religion reduced to such a low estimate in public opinion, as to be considered disreputable? Is it become a disgrace in a christian country, to profess a supreme regard to the Saviour, to imbibe his holy and selfdenying spirit; and, like him, to pass through this world without being entangled by its snares, or captivated by its fascinations? Am I to be contemned because I prefer the honour which cometh from above, rather than that which a few gay dreamers of gay dreams can confer?

"But you say, that others animadvert on my religious profession, in a style of speech which is offensive to you. Yes, I know it. But in what age, in what country, in what rank of society, has not the consistent Christian been an object of calumny? Has it not been a general maxim with the spirit of this world, to affix some opprobrious epithet to personal religion, when it has been incorporated with the living character; and then to hold it up to reproach and ridicule, even while there has been an external homage paid to the authority of revealed truth? Are not some of the wisest, the most virtuous, the most useful members of society, designated, as Calvinists, or Methodists, or Fanatics, by the triflers of the age; who, when asked for a correct definition of the term which they employ, cannot give it? Such persons do not know that they are reviling the pure religion of Jesus Christ, while they are indulging themselves in the use of such terms.

If the Saviour, or any of his apostles, were to arise from the dead, and withhold the splendid evidences of their mission, while displaying only the moral purity of their principles, would they not fall under the heavy censures of these very men? Would they not be reviled now, as they were when on earth: and be held up to scorn, as when they were stigmatized with opprobrious epithets by their own countrymen? The spirit of enmity which burns in the human heart against the sacred claims of God, to the entire homage, and supreme affection of man, remains the same in all ages, though the form of its expression may vary; and while it becomes the duty of every Christian to bear its aspersions without resentment; yet he is forbidden to sacrifice his principles to conciliate its esteem.

"You say, that our peace, as a family, is broken up, by the introduction of religion among us. Our peace is disturbed, I know; but do I disturb it? What have I done? I have felt the truth, which you taught me to revere; and I am exemplifying its tendency to produce a conformity between the habits of a Christian, and the precepts of the Scripture. May I not believe the truth, and obey it, without being considered as the destroyer of domestic peace ? If I prefer religious exercises to vain amusements; if I take more delight in anticipating the glories of another world, than devoting myself to the indulgences of this; if I revere the authority of God, cherish in my breast attachment to the Redeemer; and practise (though imperfectly) the unostentatious virtues of a real christian; ought any one to interfere to forbid me? Is my understanding, is my taste, is my conscience, to be placed under human controul? Must I part with my birth-right now I know its value; and consent to renounce, as false, what I believe to be true; and to abandon those sources of felicity as pernicious, from which I derive my most exquisite enjoyment? I cannot do it. It is impossible. My mind must be left free, or I cannot be happy. Indeed, I feel that no power can bind it. No force can subdue it.

"We are fast hastening to the closing scene of life, and in a few years we shall be called to part. You will be left childless, or I shall be left an