guardianship over the two orphans. He felt that Bessie was now more than ever thrown upon his care, being deprived of the constant companionship of her sister, from whom she had hardly ever been separated during the last two years, but who was now confined to her bed.

He, therefore, gave Bessie full liberty to resort to his house, and enter his study whenever she chose ; and she gladly availed herself of this permission.

Sometimes when she entered he was busy writing, and would raise his finger to prevent her speaking. She would, therefore, take a book, and sit down quietly and read, waiting till he was disengaged; or she would watch his varying countenance as he wrote those stirring papers on political subjects, which were published in the journals of the day, under a name not his own. When he had finished, he sometimes read to her what he had written, or a part of it; at other times, he turned to her in a playful manner, and said, “Well, my pet, what have you come to tell me?" and then would listen, with the greatest interest, to whatever she had to communicate; or, if required, he would give his advice on any subject that perplexed her.

Frequently he would enter into a long dissertation on philosophy or science; or else, discuss some metaphysical subtlety, till he quite bewildered Bessie, and

perphaps, himself also. By intercourse with a man of such universal information and deep thought, her intellectual faculties were early and fully developed. He spoke freely to her on many subjects, and found that, though she had not numbered many years, she had powers of mind quite capable of following him. After Mrs. A's death, Sarah and Bessie took up their abode with their eldest brother and his wife, at a pretty retired residence, a little way out of the town of Carlow. There they dwelt for two years; and Bessie often alluded to these days as among the happiest of her life but that happiness was of short duration.

A virulent typhus fever raged in the town and country, and carried off a great number of the lower orders. In consequence of the mortality it produced, many forsook their relatives and friends as soon as they became ill, and it was with great difficulty the parish officers could induce even hired nurses to remain with the sick.

During the height of the epidemic, Bessie's eldest brother entered a cottage, and found a poor woman lying on some straw on the ground. She had seen her friends one by one leave her, no kind voice spoke comfort, no tender hand smoothed her pillow; but when she thought herself forsaken by all around, and that she should breathe her last, neglected and alone, she saw this good Samaritan enter. For, though no human eye of affection rested upon hers,

to catch from its expression what she desired to relieve her sufferings, yet there was One above who saw and watched over her, and sent a Christian friend to her help. He shook up the straw on which she lay— it was her only bed; he lighted the fire, and made her some gruel to moisten her parched lips; and, having soothed and cheered her desolate condition, he left her to procure a nurse who should remain with her, till she had closed her eyes in death.

On his return home he mentioned the circumstance, adding, "I know I shall have the fever-I felt that I had caught the infection whilst shaking up the straw for that poor woman: but I could not do otherwise, I could not see a fellow-creature in that condition, and not help her." His foreboding came to pass that day fortnight he was no longer numbered among the living.

The two sisters being again left homeless, their eldest surviving brother came forward as their protector, and they took up their abode with him.

"The Christian would not have his lot

Be other than it is,

For while his Father rules the world

He knows that world is his.

When clouds of sorrow gather round,

His bosom owns no fear:

He knows, whate'er his portion be,
His God will still be there."

CAROLINE FRY.

Chapter Third.

"When mercy points where Jesus bleeds,
And faith beholds Thine anger cease,
And hope to blank despair succeeds,
This, Father, this alone is peace."

GISBORNE.

No circumstance of particular interest took place from the time last alluded to, until Bessie was seventeen, when a new era commenced in her spiritual experience.* From the time she left the Roman Catholics she had attended the Presbyterian Kirk, had taught in the Sunday School, visited the sick and poor, and was always engaged in works of charity and usefulness. The minister found in her a

* I am not acquainted with the particulars of her early conversion to God. I believe the light shone into her soul while examining the question relative to the doctrines of the Romish Church, already referred to.

constant ready help in any labour of love he might require, whether to comfort the afflicted, or instruct the ignorant. Her zeal had not cooled in these outward services, but she felt that her heart had gradually grown cold, and estranged from God. She had neglected private prayer and meditation, and "God had not been in all her thoughts."

When she was roused from this spiritual lethargy anguish and despair laid hold on her. She reflected whence she had fallen; what peace she had once enjoyed; what communion with God, as she read His holy Word. And now that book gave her no comfort; every word spoke condemnation; she thought God's frown rested upon her, that she had grieved His Holy Spirit, and He had departed from her; that she had sinned against light and knowledge, and that there could be no forgiveness for her— nothing but banishment from the presence of that God whom she had neglected. The blackest despair reigned within her, and this unhappy state of mind lasted three months.

At first she tried to conceal her misery from those around her. Frequently she would leave the house, and choose a sequestered spot, where she might, undisturbed, give freedom to the bitter thoughts that occupied her mind; she would pace up and down in mental agony, and return to the house still