commandments; I have kept none of thy commandments. May such a wretch come to the Lord? Wilt thou receive me? Wilt thou pardon me? Wilt thou make me a Christian? Tell me, Lord, shall I go to heaven or hell? Shall I go to heaven or hell, Lord? O tell me! Shall I go to heaven or hell? Wilt thou make me a Christian? Wilt thou forgive me?” She then paused a little, and added, “But _wilt_ thou, Lord? Yes, he will, he will. But wilt thou Lord? Yes, thou wilt, thou wilt.” Mr. _Dornford_ then gave out an hymn. She now seemed quite calm: the horror which before appeared in her countenance was gone, and had left a sweet smile. Her attention seemed quite fixt. And after remaining some time with her eyes upward, she said, “Jesus is smiling upon me.” She had at the same time a sight of him as upon the cross, saying, “I have pardoned all your sins; and if you pray, I will give you abundant love.” After she had sat silent a while, she broke out, “O what a sweet Saviour he is! He has forgiven me all my sins――All, all. Lord, thou wilt, thou hast forgiven me.――O let them be perfectly forgiven! But shall I ever sin again, Lord? O don’t let me sin again.” Some time after, she said, “O what a sweet Saviour thou art! What sweet love is thine! O for more such love, more such love as thine! But don’t let me sin again! Fill me with love, that I may never sin again!” ♦ “thy” replaced with “they” per Errata This scene was striking: but it was nothing to the change that followed. She was of a far worse natural temper, then any of the children: but now it might indeed be said, “Love made her willing heart in swift obedience move.” So great was the change both in will and understanding, as plainly declared the hand that wrought it. We sometimes hope, several of them will chuse to be entirely devoted to God. If so, they may continue together when they grow up, each following such an employment as she is fit for, and all throwing the produce of their labour into a common stock, and may not God be pleased to call some young women, not brought up with us, who have a desire to devote themselves wholly to God, to cast in their lot with us? Perhaps some who do not want, may be glad to get out of the hurry of the world, at least for a season, that the tender flame may not be put out, nor any unhallowed fires mix with it. How much is something of this kind wanted? A place of refuge for the weak and unexperienced? How often do we see those who are just setting out in the good way, either wholly turned aside, or at least persuaded to take up with a lower way, than the Spirit of God at first pointed out?