it gives me the most leisure. Mr. Brewster and his wife with whom I board are very kind to me, and do every thing they can for my happiness. They give me a plenty of books to read, and invite me to share the society of all the company they have, as much as if I were one of the family, but what is all that compared with one letter to read of your handwriting, Mary, or an hour spent with you? As I lay there thinking it over, and longing for a sight at you, or a talk with Walter which you know was impossible because he was away at college, it suddenly occurred to me that I would slip over to Briar Street Church where you go, the next day, and see if I couldn't get a glimpse of you, Mary, it would do me so much good. It was leaping over the bounds I know, and running the risk of meeting my old associates, some of whom go there, but God protected me; I did riot see one of them. I kept out of sight until all the congregation had gone in, and then I went in and sat down on the back seat where nobody could see me. I could just get a sight at your bonnet, that pretty little white bonnet trimmed with pink and white ribbon that you know I liked so well, Mary. Once when you turned your head round I got a side glimpse of your face. Oh Mary! that did me more good than all the preaching of twenty years against drinking could have done. I felt as if you would not disappoint me, I knew you wouldn't; and when you leaned your head on your hand, I knew you were praying for me, and I prayed for myself.
Never did music sound so sweet before. I felt as if I was wafted on the wings of angels to a better land where all temptation was swept away, and you and I could be perfectly happy in each other's love. Oh my own dear Mary! I am afraid this is too much to think, that I shall never be permitted to realize it. I know I am not worthy of you, that a whole life-