But, not every one, like her, would have traced, in all, the hand of Omnipotence, now become her friend! Not every one, like her, would have raised their eye from material, to immaterial, things, and surveyed in creation the more attractive realities of an uncreated world! Not every one, like her, would have discovered therein the Divine image; or read the emblems of a Redeemer's tender, and everlasting, love: rejoicing more in them, than in all the evanescent loveliness they beheld !

The book of nature, second only to that from the pen of Inspiration, was here unfolded to her in its fairest and most legible characters; nor, while she admired the secrets it disclosed, was the opportunity permitted to pass by unimproved. Each succeeding lesson, still increasing in interest as she proceeded in the paths of sacred knowledge, was recorded as with a diamond pen. upon her mind, and the instructions she received became daily more manifest in the amiable, the heavenly, tenour of her life and conversation. Thus, as it were, 'allured

into the wilderness to hold communion with her heart, she heard a voice speaking comfortably unto her,' and inviting her to look upward with fiducial confidence. There, she felt herself more immediately with God, and was led into a narrower scrutiny of the principles which guided her conduct in his sight; for, many a profitable thought of the past will occur in the privacy of meditation, and many an anxious, but salutary, doubt present itself relative to the future, which would have been alike drowned in the hurry, and distractions, of the world.

Yet, amidst all her studies, which bore more directly on the great requisites of preparation for an after-life, she was by no means neglectful of those, which tend to humanize and adorn society, and raise man above the brutes that perish. The improve ment of her intellectual faculties on subjects of high, though not of paramount, importance was ever kept steadily in view. She did not, indeed, aim at any great degree of proficiency in the sciences, much less did she seek opportunities of displaying

her extensive information. A retiring modesty she had been taught to consider indispensable amongst the acquisitions of her sex; and few things could have wounded her more sensibly, than to be supposed to have overstepped the limits, which nature and decorum have prescribed to woman. Among other recreations of the lighter kind we have been alluding to, she occasionally devoted a leisure hour to the cul tivation of a talent for poetry, which she seemed to have inherited from her mother. In compositions of this class her taste was refined and accurate. She regarded it as an allowed means of softening the asperities of character, and unfolding and strengthening the powers of the understanding; and she was confirmed in this opinion by the style of many of the inspired penmen, who abound in beauties culled from the noblest chambers of imagery.' She coincided with an amiable author of our own in the sentiment, that

"Poesy's enchanting art was given

To be on earth a source of blameless bliss,

And cherish thoughts that lift the soul to heaven;"

and she had already written several pieces which were above mediocrity. Indeed, the lake, and the romantic scenery that met her eye wherever it roved, were well adapted to quicken an imagination already glowing and active, and Emily had more than once paid a tribute to their charms. Perhaps our readers may not be displeased with the following specimen of her talents. For the fidelity of the translation, with which a friend has obliged us, we must of course be considered responsible :

THE ALPS.

The mountains of my native land
Are conscious beings to mine eye,
When at the break of day they stand,
Like giants, looking through the sky
To hail the sun's unrisen car,

That gilds their diadems of snow
While one by one, like star by star,

Their peaks in ether glow.

Their silent presence fills my soul,
When to the horizontal ray,
The many-tinctured vapours roll

In evanescent wreaths away,

And leave them naked on the scene,

The emblems of eternity,

The same as they so long have been,
And shall for ages be.

Yet, through the valleys when I range,
Their cliffs, like images in dreams,

Colour, and shape, and station change;

While crags and caverns, woods and streams, And seas of adamantine ice,

With gardens, vineyards, fields embraced,

Open a way to Paradise

Through all the glorious waste.

The goats are hanging on the rocks;
Wide through their pastures roam the herds
Peace on the uplands feeds her flocks--
Till suddenly the king of birds,
Pouncing a lamb, they start for fear;
He bears his bleating prize on high;
The well-known plaint his nestlings hear,
And raise a ravening cry.

The sun in morning splendour shines;
At noon, behold his orb o'ercast;
Hollow and dreary through the pines,
Like distant ocean, moans the blast:
The mountains darken at the sound,
Put on their armour, and anon,
In panoply of clouds wrapt round,
Their forms from sight are gone!

Hark! war in heaven;- the battle-shout
Of thunder rends the echoing air;
Lo! war in heaven ;-wide-flashing out
Through torrent rains, red lightnings glare:
As if the Alps, with mortal ire,
At once a thousand voices raised;
As if a thousand swords of fire
At once in conflict blazed.