to reveal our feelings concerning sacred things to comparative strangers rather than to our nearest and dearest friends. The reserve that had so long rested upon Eliza was now dispelled; the cause of her late disquietude explained to her early friend and instructress she frankly and fully unbosomed her anxieties: she confessed that it was solicitude repecting her soul that had caused her sadness; that her heart was filled with doubts and fears and misgivings, and that she had dreaded to reveal the state of it to her fond mother: the sins of her past life rose before her like a thick cloud; the "remembrance of them was grievous-the burden of them intolerable." Mrs. N. listened to this recital with the ready interest of a Christian heart; and while she wept, rejoiced with the young penitent: she encouraged, while she warned her, and kneeling by her side, prayed that He who had doubtless commenced this good work would bring it to a happy and glorious conclusion. Eliza was cheered by this ready sympathy, and avowed her determination to persevere in the study of the Bible, and in diligent prayer for the enlightening influence of the Holy Spirit. Such efforts never

lose their reward, if commenced and continued in the spirit of a "little child." Their blessed effects were soon visible in the present case. God did not reject the convicted penitent, but soon poured into her bosom the " oil of joy for mourning," and permitted her to exchange the "spirit of heaviness" for the beautiful "garment of praise."

For some time Eliza requested Mrs. N. not to communicate to her mother intelligence of the change in her feelings. She dreaded lest she might excite in her bosom hopes which might never be realized, and lead her to feel that her child was in the fold of Christ while she was yet a wanderer. But some months had passed, and Eliza had grown rapidly in grace and in the knowledge of her Lord. She was now anxiously desirous to confess Him before men, and approach the altar of his love. She begged Mrs. N. now to write to her mother. "And what shall I say, my dear child ?" asked her friend. "Tell her the captive is free," was her only reply.

Not many Sundays after, the mother and daughter were seen kneeling together at the table of the Lord. The holy joy of Mrs. A.'s

heart may be realized by every Christian mother.

Thus was Eliza ripening for the home she was soon to enter and enjoy. We have alluded to her delicate health. At the expiration of a year she left the seminary where she had enjoyed so much, and returning home, spent two years with her mother in the most peaceful and delightful manner. But she was often visited with seasons of severe indisposition, which she bore meekly and patiently as one whose affections were set upon a better world.

At the early age of twenty years she finished her pilgrimage, gently closing her eyes on the perishing joys of earth to open them upon the excellent joys of heaven.

And now the " captive is indeed free"free among the blessed, enjoying the glorious. liberty of the children of God; sin can no more oppress her spirit, nor sorrow chill her heart; but with a bosom calm as the brow of Jesus, she is, we trust, enjoying the society of just men made perfect.

THE BRIDAL.

"If 'twas not good for man to live
In Paradise alone,

Two in a desert's weary wilds

Are better far than one:

Mutual their wants and wishes too,

They help, conjoined, each other through."

REV. W. JAY

How beautiful is the bridal! under any circumstances a scene that excites interest and awakens sympathy in the coldest heart! We look upon a young maiden just entering life, which, to her undisciplined heart, seems one continued flowery pathway, and see her bestowing the wealth of her young affections upon one distinguished in the sight of man, and followed by troops of admiring friends. Their hopes are bright, but it is a brightness that must be overcast, for it is bounded by the grave, and reaches not beyond its narrow limit. Here we look on with interest, but there is a tinge of melancholy mingled with our congratulations,

and we pray that the stream of happiness upon which our young friends are sailing may not convey them entirely away from the source of every blessing.

But how deep and holy, and unmingled with apprehension, is the fount of feeling that is stirred on beholding two young hearts consecrated to each other, that have before been given to God,-two, whose hopes and fears. and aims are one, becoming" one in the Lord," and with sanctified affections commencing together their heavenward course. that Christ

"Clasps the marriage band,
And fits the spousal ring,"

and bestows his unqualified blessing.

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Then it is

*

The daily service was over in the Church of

that time-honoured sanctuary,

where, for many a score of years, sacrifice and pure offerings of prayer and praise had been presented to the Lord of the Sabbath. Twilight came on, and in the religious dimness of the ancient edifice were seen groups of linger