suppose," observed Mr. Landor, " with whom you can renew your acquaintance."

"I was introduced to several," replied Emily, "but there is only one, with whom I wish to be on intimate terms, Fanny Gordon.”

"You must persuade her to be your frequent companion," said Mr. Landor, "and if you have her society in the summer, you will not be dull. When winter returns, we may perhaps come to. London again for a few months, as I do not intend to give up our house here, at least, not until Westbury and Jane have been to the continent, and you and I are finally settled at H. Your sister intends to take three of the servants with her, and to leave the rest at Elmwood; and I think when we go, that your Anne and old James shall accompany us, and the others remain here till we go to H.”

Accustomed to be consulted by her fond father in every little domestic arrangement, Emily readily entered into his plans; and before she sealed her. letter to Jane, she was able to inform her that every thing was determined upon, and that they should be at Elmwood early in March.

The mistress of her own time, and permitted to spend it as she pleased, Emily devoted herself assiduously to the attainment of a further knowledge of the doctrines and practical effects of christianity. She read much, and attentively; and her reading was confined to the works of the best au

thors, which had been recommended to her perusal by her friends at Elmwood. Religion was ther favourite study (though not to the exclusion of every other subject) and she so often referred to the Holy Scriptures, that the declaration of David seemed applicable to her, "Oh! how I love thy law! it is my meditation all the day!" She had formerly been passionately fond of novel reading, and from indulging in this inclination, her character had acquired a tinge of enthusiasm, that Mrs. Westbury perceived with regret, but to Emily it threw a charm over the every day occurrences of life, which inclined her rather to yield to, than overcome it. She loved to regard the most trivial occurrences as ordered by His unerring wisdom, into whose hands she had resigned herself, and all her concerns; and, believing this, she enjoyed the sweet calm which is the effect of a humble submission to the will of God, amidst the crosses and vexations, with which, in a greater or less degree, every person meets. She delighted to indulge the idea, that all things, however unpleasant in themselves, would "work together for good;" and though some of her friends ridiculed such opinions as enthusiastic, she felt that she would not willingly exchange her enthusiasm, for their indifference, or the day-dreams of her creative imagination, for the sober realities of life. But her religion was a check upon the indulgence of her romantic feelings, and by leading her habitually to regard the things of

time as fleeting and transitory, and the things of eternity as infinitely important, engaged all the powers of her mind in the cause of God, and converted even her enthusiasm into good.

The change which had taken place in her disposition was such as to deter most of her former acquaintance from continuing their intimacy with her, and Emily soon found herself neglected by those who had once professed themselves her most sincere friends. This neither grieved nor surprised her; for she knew that her present sentiments unfitted her for their society, and the only one of them whom she valued, was Clara Wilford, who still remained the same. She continued to visit her friend (though she too regretted the alteration which religion had effected in her opinions and conduct) and their intercourse was nearly as frequent as it had been before Emily went to Elmwood.

Perhaps it might have been more favourable to Emily's religious improvement, if they had been on less intimate terms; for Clara, though universally allowed to be a very amiable girl, was a dangerous companion for a young and scarcely estab lished christian. She was not one of those gay and thoughtless triflers that Emily would have disliked and avoided; on the contrary, she was lively without being giddy; and her disposition was a pleasing union of the cheerful with the serious. She could talk well on the necessity of being religious, and of the pleasure which must result from

the discharge of our duty to God, and to our neighbour, while she confessed that she thought less of such subjects than she knew she ought to think, and that she was guilty of many failings, but still as she did the best she could, and was certainly sincere in her imperfect endeavours, she hoped that they would be accepted for Jesus Christ's sake; and Emily, pleased with the frankness of her manners, and the openness of her disposition, without thinking of the danger to which she herself was exposed from the conversation of one who knew nothing of experimental religion, determined to use every effort to bring her friend to an acquaintance with those truths, towards which she fondly flattered herself she was already favourably disposed.

"What! reading again, Emily?" said Miss Wilford, suddenly entering Mr. Landor's drawingroom one evening, and looking over Emily's shoulder, and what is the book? Witherspoon on Regeneration'-why, my dear girl, if you study these subjects so much, you'll surpass my brother Richard, who has been at Cambridge these four years. Do you intend to offer yourself as a candidate for holy orders ?"

"Instead of ridiculing the subject I have chosen for my study this evening," replied Emily, goodhumouredly, "I would rather you told me to what circumstance I owe the unexpected pleasure of seeing you to-night."

"Now are you sincere, Emily ?" enquired Clara,

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with an arch-smile, "do you really consider my unlooked-for visit as a pleasure, when I interrupt you in your favourite employment? I shall find fault with your religion, remember, if it does not prevent you from telling untruths, even to pay your friend a compliment."

My religion forbids me to speak what is not true on any consideration," returned Emily, "and I repeat, I am happy to see you."

"Well then I will answer your question," said Clara, "You know, of course, that Mr. Landor will dine with my father this evening."

Emily replied in the affirmative.

"We expect a large party of gentlemen," continued Clara, "and as I knew every one in the house would be engaged, and I should be quite neglected (which I don't like to be) I asked my mother to let me spend the evening with you; and on her consenting, I dined in the study alone, and then John drove me here, before any of our visitors were arrived."

"You will stay all evening with me then," said Emily, and indeed you can stop till to-morrow. Shall I ask my father to tell Mrs. Wilford you

will."

You are very kind," returned Clara, hesitating, if Mr. Landor is not gone, I think I will stay with you."

Accordingly, when her father entered the drawing-room to wish Emily good night, as he knew