It may appear mysterious, that when her parents pleaded only for a few days, when modesty would even seem to have dictated a little delay; and when filial tenderness must have powerfully resisted so sudden and immediate a departure, that she should express so prompt a compliance, without even stipulating for a single day. Something perhaps may be justly imputed to the times, but far more to the religious state of her own mind; a sense of duty overwhelmed a feeling of reluctance, together with every inferior consideration. She was doubtless in the habit of daily intercourse with God, and in fervent prayer had sought divine direction: she saw an overruling providence--God was in the affair--his finger, visible to the eye of faith, pointed out the way in which she should go, and with unhesitating obedience she confessed her readiness to part with all the felicities of home to seek a distant alliance, at the voice of that sovereign Power to whom she committed her future destiny. Flattering as the scene before her must have appeared to a mere worldly eye, the sacrifices she made at this moment of compliance were certainly most considerable. What could have led to such an answer, when standing between the tears, the tenderness, the entreaties of parental and fraternal affection, and the urgency of a mere stranger, the _servant_ too of her future house--but a faith which overcame the world, and dictated her holy resolution? _Heaven_ appointed her journey, and _nature_ pleaded in vain. To every reader we recommend the noble principle which actuated this young heroine. Let inclination bow to a sense of duty--let God be obeyed rather than man--let not only authority be resisted, but even the fondest endearments sacrificed to the divine requirements. Apply this principle to a higher occasion, and remember that the Son of God has declared, "If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple; and whosoever doth not bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my disciple." How tender, how affectionate is the parting scene! How the heart speaks in every word! The whole group seems placed before our eyes; and we witness the tears that flow, the sighs that heave each bosom; we seem to hear the faltering yet fond accent, in which the dear forsaken family pronounce the last benediction, "Thou art our sister; be thou the mother of thousands of millions, and let thy seed possess the gate of those which hate them."