1850] REMINISCENCES BY A FRIEND. 45 to strike out an independent course of thought, firmly believing that a candid, honest inquirer after the truth will certainly find it at last. This was a kind of creed with us, and we held tenaciously by it. Through a good deal of chaos we both groped for some time, often involved in mists, or misled by false glimmers. But Eliza soon emerged into the light, and ever after became my pioneer in all that was good. "The remembrance of the many happy days we have spent together is 'as ointment poured forth.' Every nook and glen around our separate homes have we explored together, and enjoyed, with full hearts, the silent eloquence of nature's ever changeful beauty. Eliza's mind was peculiarly attuned to poetry, which oftenest means beauty. This imparted a peculiar charm to her society. In books, or conversations, or scenery, she always managed to cull whatever of beauty was there, were it ever so subtle or concealed. "You have seen from her letters something of the interchange of thought and feeling we mutually enjoyed; but you get from them only a meagre idea of what she was when, in the trustfulness of love, she unveiled her inmost thinkings to her friend. "Her visits were indeed no common pleasure. It was my own fault if I were not made both wiser and better by her intercourse. Before coming, she used to apprise me of an accumulation of books to read, and topics to converse upon, urging me to be similarly prepared. Sometimes, like children who delight in danger for the daring's sake, we trod forbidden ground, tracing out bye-paths that led to Doubting Castle. At first, I think we did it simply from love of adventure, but afterwards from an earnest desire to know why we rejected certain phases of belief and accepted 'the one.' Some of this reading did us harm no doubt. It caused many terrible mental conflicts, but Eliza has said they left her convictions stronger after the struggle. "After the important change which transpired in our 'dear old dining-room' as she calls it, the result was most evident. Her whole character received a higher tone. She raised a very lofty standard of excellence, and was constantly striving to attain it. Her talents and energies found new development in the service of God." Whatever was the benefit derived from this friendship by Miss S. R- —, it will be subsequently seen that the benefit imparted was held to be quite as great. It would afford high gratification to the writer to learn that what is here furnished of their correspondence, had prompted many young readers to turn their friendships to an equally beneficial purpose. Correspondence is capable of yielding an immense benefit, for undoubtedly the pen is one of the most valuable instruments of mental culture. The benefit realized, however, will of course depend on the character of the correspondence. Perhaps it would be difficult to point to one more worthy of being regarded as a model for the young, than that conducted between these two friends. Scarcely a line of what could justly be denominated "gossip" is to be found in any of the letters placed in the writer's hands. "The important change" referred to in the concluding paragraph of the reminiscences, it will be the object of the next chapter to narrate. 1850] AN IMPORTANT EPOCH. 47 CHAPTER III. Anxious for the enjoyment of religion-Experiences a clear sense of God's pardoning love-The hindrances to the earlier experience of this blessing-Remarks on the importance to the young of a religious training. THERE is one event, which by the new direction it gives to the aims, and the ennobling influence it exerts upon the character, as well as the pure and satisfying joy it creates, constitutes an epoch in the life of every Christian. It is the fact of conversion. We now arrive at the period in the history of Miss Hessel, in which this momentous change was experienced. For some years past a great religious awakening had existed in various parts of Scotland. The instruments were ministers who were persuaded they had received " new light" on several important points of Christian doctrine. Renouncing the restricted views in which they had been trained, they vigorously advocated the universal love of God to man; and strenuously insisted that faith in the Scripture testimony concerning the sacrificial death of Christ, is the simple condition of salvation. In the spring of 1850, a number of these zealous men made an evangelistic tour into several northern counties of England. One of them—the Rev. George Dunn-visited Boston Spa, and conducted an out-door service in the afternoon of a Sunday in July. Miss Hessel was a hearer. By that sermon, together with a subsequent conversation, her mind was excited to inquiries which issued in the joyous consciousness of her acceptance with God. We have ample means of ascertaining her state of mind from a free correspondence into which she entered with this gentleman. On July 31st she says: "I can offer no apology for presuming to address you, and I venture to hope you will deem the subject on which I write of too great importance to require one. I should have preferred a personal interview, but fitting opportunity was denied me to speak with you alone. You will perhaps be surprised to learn that I listened to your conversation, on Monday afternoon, with an earnestness which nothing but a deep personal interest could have imparted. My past history must in some measure be revealed to make you understand this. "When but a child I was admitted into 'the Society' as an earnest seeker of salvation, and earnestly did I strive to obtain that blessing which we call 'the witness of the Spirit.' But my views of it were so confused, that I have hitherto remained destitute of anything more than a mere intellectual enjoyment of the truth. This I fear I have often mistaken for that deeper work of the heart, which I now earnestly desire to experience. No one could have begun to meet in class with a greater horror of hypocrisy than did I. A kind but mistaken friend almost compelled me to go there in the first instance, and a dread of placing myself beyond the care of the Church, and of quenching the Spirit of God which strove with me, kept me there. I could not tell you all I have thought, and felt, and suffered, during nine years of Church membership. Suffice it to say that sometimes I have believed myself the possessor, in some degree, of true faith, at others I have sunk into carelessness and departed far from God. I have been entangled in the gloomy meshes of Calvinism, and what is perhaps worse, bound to my heart a sentimental religion. Often, amid all this, I have prayed that God would give me true repentance; for my repentance, I have been strongly tempted to believe, was never sufficiently deep. 1850] A SEEKER OF SALVATION. 49 "But I must now tell you something of my present experience. For some months past I have earnestly desired rest from these warring elements within. I have desired to be holy, that I might be happy, and render those more so who come within the circle of my influence. Last Sunday this desire seemed to gain deeper hold upon my spirit than it had ever done, and amounted to a determination to find, if possible, that rest I have so long and vainly sought. While conversing with you on Monday afternoon, and listening to you in the evening, I felt as though I was not far from the kingdom of God. The way to 'the cross' had never appeared to me so simple, and it seemed as though my Saviour was saying to me, 'the word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth, and in thy heart, if thou canʼst but believe.' I now think that had I told you my state of mind, you would have been able to explain the nature of faith, so that I should have realized the coveted blessing. I feel even now the dawn of a new existence, and I would not barter my hope of salvation for the wealth of a dukedom. I seem nearer happiness than I have been for years. I hope I am not deceiving myself. I dread a false peace. May I trust to your goodness for a little of that counsel I so much need?" "While reading On August 18th she again writes: your letter there were momentary gleams of light shot across my mind, but they were like the first rays of morning, possessing no heat, and waking in my heart no love to Him who first loved me. Unlike the rays of morning, however, they faded from me,— 'Leaving the chill'd earth without form and void, And thus I am not despairing, but deeply, sadly, depressed, with a heart whose fond yearnings have hitherto found no satisfying portion, and can find none but in God—a mind which has had many fountains of natural and intellectual |