title="[22]"/> in a small, social meeting, arrested her attention, and brought her to continued, deep, serious thinking, which ended, as she thought, in a new view of everlasting things. With all the sanguine feelings of youth, she judged herself prepared to be united with the Church; but owing to the unwillingness of her parents to risk the possibility of a premature profession of religion, this step was delayed.

In connexion with this period of her life, it seems necessary to relate some circumstances which took place with regard to a much loved sister of hers; not many years younger than herself. They had been so closely educated together, as to make them one in many of their views and feelings.

Elizabeth, in giving an account of the exercises of her own mind on the subject of religion, some time after they took place, said, that she experienced an irresistible feeling of contempt for the concern which Margaret manifested, and concluded that she was indulging a mere hypocritical affectation; in consequence of which she was beginning to make some observations to this effect, when, in a moment, a deep conviction fastened on her conscience, of the danger of resisting what might prove to be the influence of the Holy Spirit. This impression resulted in a real concern for herself, and in views equally solemn with those expressed by Margaret.

They both now made progress together in their inquiries and experience, and were a mutual help, rather than a hinderance to each other. Both soon thought that they had obtained an interest in "Him, whose blood cleanseth from all sin."

It appeared, however, soon after this, as if our fears with regard to Margaret were but too well founded. "Because of manifold temptations," she seemed to be taking a new hold on the world; but a state of things about the same time, began with Elizabeth, which disciplined and humbled her spirit; and she was soon enabled to realize all the insufficiency and uncertainty of this world, as a portion.

Many doubts with regard to the genuineness of the change which Elizabeth trusted had taken place in her heart, increased by the weakness which rapidly declining health had induced, perplexed and troubled her, and made her more and more unwilling to make a profession of religion. She had witnessed some of the extravagances of revivals, and felt the danger of being deceived, and of "having a name to live whilst she was dead."

In January, 1823, Margaret was married to the Rev. John Breckinridge, and returned with him to Kentucky, his native State, in the spring of the same year. In consequence of a call which her husband received, to a church in Kentucky, (which he accepted,) they were soon after this settled in Lexington. Her departure from her early home was her first real trial. For although, through the course of several months, she had taken a prospective view of this arrangement, with much buoyancy of spirits, as the time approached, every circumstance connected with a separation from all the associations of her childhood and youth, seemed to produce a new and deeper impression, and seven or eight hundred miles appeared at length, as almost an interminable space. The sadness which irresistibly overspread her countenance, convinced her friends that when, in view of Mr. Breckinridge's first destination, she had given herself unreservedly to a foreign mission, she, like many others, little knew her own heart, and all the sacrifices which such a destination involved. And when it was seen expedient that this intention should be relinquished by him, for a plan more eligible in the view of his fathers in the ministry, a release from this more enduring trial, formed no small part of the considerations which assisted in making her submissively bow to one so much more lenient. And indeed, she had reason to say, that goodness and mercy had followed her at every step. For this very trial which sobered her countenance, made her heart better, and prepared the way for deeper self-examination, and probably more fervent prayer; and the result was, that with a trembling confidence she united herself with her husband's church in Lexington, a few months after he took charge of it. From her letters, after this event, we learned that her connexion with the church took place at the same time—it is thought on the same day—in which her sister Elizabeth, having been delivered from the many doubts which had clouded her mind, made a profession of religion in the church in Princeton. This co-incidence in providence, having occurred without any mutual intercourse or understanding on the subject, seemed so consistent with the plans of Him who "sees the end from the beginning," and who, from their first serious impressions, appeared to have united the lines of their experience until they ended in one gracious result, that it did much to confirm their friends in the hope, that a good "work was begun in them which should be carried on." They felt constrained to say, "It is the Lord's doings and wonderful in our eyes."

The kind and affectionate family in Kentucky, of which she now made one, assisted much in alleviating the pressure of sorrowful recollections, and in making the resolution which she had formed of "learning in whatsoever state she was, therewith to be content," more practical, and more enduring; and when Mr. Breckinridge was called to Baltimore in 1826, although she was pleased with the prospect of getting nearer to her early home, she felt that a new tie had been formed which could not be broken, even partially, without much pain. It was a source of much grateful recollection to her, that she was not permitted to use any undue influence to lead her husband away from his congregation in Lexington, to which she was indebted in so considerable a degree, for the pleasant circumstances which surrounded her.

Her health was remarkably firm, especially for one of her delicate appearance, for several years after her marriage, and during all the time that her husband had a settled charge. In Baltimore, to which he removed from Lexington, she seemed to realize with much gratitude, the particularly pleasant circumstances in which her family was placed. Situated on the direct way between her husband's relatives, endeared to her by so many pleasant recollections, and the family of her youth, with both of which she could have frequent intercourse, and in the midst of a kind circle of friends, not limited by the bounds of Mr. Breckinridge's congregation, she was literally at home; and when the summons came to call him to another sphere of labour in the Church, she was the last to be persuaded that it was his duty to obey it, and reluctantly yielded to the opinion of those whose judgment she honoured.

From this time she may truly be said to have been a sacrifice to the interests of the Church. The unsettling of her domestic duties and habits, to which her temperament was particularly adapted, was, probably, directly and indirectly at the foundation of those causes, which gradually but too surely undermined her health, and prepared her for a premature grave. Her last change of residence, which placed her in Princeton by the side of her paternal family, and amongst many of her youthful associates, seemed to her to fill up the measure, as it regarded this world, of that providential goodness "which had followed her all the days of her life;" and she said, not long after it took place, with a humility which was in itself an evidence of her gracious state, "I think, in view of all my mercies, there is a thankfulness experienced which is not the natural growth of my own heart." To us who remain it is given to see, that these unusual comforts were mercifully intended to soothe the infirmities of a rapidly dissolving body, and soften the approach of the