We now arrive at the period of Miss Hessel’s conversion. The instruments were ministers in various parts of Scotland, who were persuaded they had received “new light” on several vital doctrines. Renouncing the limited views in which they had been trained, they vigorously advocated the impartially benignant and strictly universal love of the Father, atonement of the Son, and influence of the Spirit. In the spring of 1850, a number of these zealous men visited several northern counties of England. One of them, the Rev. George Dunn, preached at Boston Spa. By that sermon, together with a subsequent conversation, Miss Hessel came to a knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus. On the 12th March, 1851, her brother consummated an interesting engagement with a lady resident in Bristol, the new sphere of his ministerial duty, and early in May Miss Hessel visited the bridal pair. How greatly she enjoyed that sojournment two brief sentences attest. They were written on September 13th, a few days before she left. “I have much to tell you of dear old Bristol, the city of the west, and its noble children. God bless them for the love and heart-warm kindness they have shown to a stranger and sojourner within their walls.” Miss Hessel had not much time for the acquisition of knowledge. Her large circle of friends entailed a large correspondence. The value placed upon her society involved the consumption of much time. She gave a large amount of service to her own religious community, and often assisted efforts in distant places to promote the general welfare of humanity. Nevertheless, being possessed of strong intellectual tastes, and lively poetical sensibility, her mental powers were seldom at rest. We find her holding communion with Martin’s celebrated pictures, “The Last Judgment,” “The Plains of Heaven,” and “The Great Day of Wrath,” admiring the early spring flowers, and the glowing tints of the autumnal trees. Her poetical compositions were numerous, some of them of considerable merit, and her reading was multifarious. Every department of literature was laid under tribute. She could discover the gems, and point out the heterodox opinions in Alexander Smith’s “Life Drama;” revel beyond measure in the “Life of Dr. Chalmers;” grow sad over “Talfourd’s Final Memorials of Charles Lamb;” wonder at Coleridge’s “Aids to Reflection;” derive benefit from the prodigious vigour of Carlyle and the lofty sentiment of Channing.