childhood, not as hitherto, during her brief visits, with the loving
farewell and the earnest injunction to speedily return; but cold looks
and colder words had marked that parting, with the very distant
intimation, on the part of her uncle, that if, on the expiration of her
sojourn among strangers, her fanatical views; as he termed them,
remained unchanged, she must expect to find herself banished from the
home of her childhood. Poor Agnes! a painful decision awaited her. With
all the affection of her warm and unsophisticated spirit, had she repaid
the tenderness that had been lavished upon her, and now to find herself
charged with having acted a foolish and ungrateful part,--to be thrust
forth from a home of luxury,--from the attention and sympathy of
friends,--to battle with a world that has but little kindness, in
general, to spare for those who need it most; these were painful and
harassing thoughts, and what wonder they weighed down that gentle and
timid spirit, and suffused those lustrous eyes which, until lately, had
seldom shed the tear of sorrow, except for other's woes.

But as, lost in these troubled reflections, she glanced at the giant
waves beneath her, suddenly a sweet promise of Holy Writ was applied to
her agitated mind, "When thou passest through the waters I will be with
thee, and through the floods, they shall not overflow thee,"--and
immediately her spirit grew calmer, while a sense of peace, comfort and
security, quelled each rising doubt.

"I have nothing to fear," she murmured.

"His voice commands the tempest forth,
And stills the stormy wave,--
And though his arm be strong to smite,
'Tis also strong to save."