appropriate hymn on attending public worship, especially
noticing the stanza--

"The triflers, too, His eye can see,
Who only _seem_ to take a part;
They move the lip, and bend the knee,
But do not seek Him with the heart,"--

saying, earnestly, "Oh, I hope I shall not be like those!"

At another time, whilst amusing herself with her toys, she asked,
"Mamma, what is it that makes me feel _so sorry_ when I have done
wrong? _Directly_, mamma: what is it?" On her mother's explaining that
it was the Holy Spirit put into her heart by her heavenly Father, she
replied, "But how very whispering it is, mamma! Nobody else can hear
it." "Yes, my dear," said her mother; "and thou mayst sometimes hear
it compared to a 'still small voice, and then thou wilt know what
is meant." She answered, "Yes, mamma," and then continued to amuse
herself as before.

The first remembrance of Eliza retained by one of her younger sisters
is that of sitting opposite to her in the nursery-window while she
endeavored, in a simple manner, to explain to her the source and
object of her being. To the same sister she afterwards addressed
some affectionate lines of infantile poetry urging the same subject,
commencing,--

"Look, precious child, to Jesus Christ."

The missionary spirit which filled her young heart was also evinced
by her desire to possess a donkey, that she might distribute Bibles in
the country places round about; and this was afterwards spoken of as
the ambition of her childhood.

Together with the cheerful sweetness of her disposition, there was
an unusual pensiveness, a tender care for others, which was most
endearing, and often touching to witness. One day, perceiving her
mother much affected on receiving intelligence of the decease of a
valued friend and minister at a distance from home, Eliza evinced her
sympathy by laying on the table before her some beautiful lines on
the death of Howard. On her mother asking if she thought the cases
similar, she said, "Not quite, mamma: J---- T---- was not without
friends."

So earnest was her anxiety for the good of herself and her sisters,
that, when any thing wrong had been done, her feelings of distress
seemed equally excited, whether for their sakes or her own. After
any little trouble of this sort, her mother often observed her
retire alone, and, when she returned to the family-group, a beaming
expression on her countenance would show where she had laid her
sorrows.