The first real earnest feeling I ever had on this subject was when my tender mother died--such a mother as earth has seldom seen; as strong in intellect as she was modest and gentle in manners, and loving and sympathizing in heart. She left seven children younger than myself, one of them a babe, and I only sixteen. I really tried, for some time, to become a Christian, till the load of grief was alleviated by time, and then such efforts ceased; but these new responsibilities turned my practical habits into useful channels. Once after this, when "a revival" seemed closing, and my father expressed his distress for my indifference, I told him I was so happy I could not do any thing but enjoy life, and that _nothing but trials and sorrow_ would do me any good. Tears came into his eyes as he said, "Dear child, must I die too?" The responsive tears came to my eyes, but soon all was forgotten. At this time my theory of morals was, that to lie, steal, swear, quarrel, disobey parents, and break the Sabbath, were sins for which I should feel guilty; but for not becoming a Christian, when I could not understand how to do it, never rested on my conscience as a sin, but was felt to be simply a misfortune. And I wondered, if God desired that I should have a new heart, and he only could give it, why he did not do so. This was the amount of my "reasoning" so far. Till nearly twenty, I gained little knowledge except by intercourse with intelligent people, for still I had no love for solid reading or study. At about that age, I remember turning over Reid's work on Mental Science, in which my mother had been deeply interested, and wondering how people could read such stuff. At twenty that betrothal took place, so soon and so tragically ended! It was the realization of all my favorite dreams of earthly bliss. Affection, taste, ambition, every thing most desirable to me and to family friends, seemed secured. In a few months all was ended, and in the most terrible and heart-rending manner. After the first stunning effect was over, the next feeling was, "This is that indispensable sorrow! this is to save me from _eternal death_!" And so, as soon as I could do any thing, I began a course of religious reading, prayer, and mental conflict. I tried to remedy that pernicious mental habit of reverie and castle-building; I tried to do I knew not what in "becoming a Christian."