But let us look more closely at the events of this history of a life, and note their effect in passing upon the character of its subject.

MARY, daughter of the Rev. Dr. Hawes, of Hartford, Conn., was born in 1821.  Following her course through her youth, we are no where surprised at the development of any remarkable power of mind.  She was prayerful and conscientious, diligent in acquiring knowledge, enthusiastic in her love of nature, evincing in every thing a refined and feminine taste, and a quick perception of the beautiful in art, in literature, and in morals.  But the charm of her character lay in the warmth of her heart.  Love was the element in which she lived.  She loved God—­she loved her parents—­she loved her companions—­she loved everybody.  It was the exuberant, gushing love of childhood, exalted by the influences of true piety.  She seems never to have known what it was to be repelled by a sense of weakness or unworthiness in another, or to have had any of those dislikes and distastes and unchristian aversions which keep so many of us apart.  She had no need to “unlearn contempt.”  This was partly the result of natural temperament, but not all.  Such love is a Christian grace.  He that “hath” it, has it because he “dwelleth in God and God in him.”  It is the charity which Paul inculcated; that which “thinketh no evil,” which “hopeth” and “believeth all things.”  It has its root in humility; it grows only by the uprooting of self.  He who would cultivate it, must follow the injunction to let nothing be done through strife or vainglory, but in lowliness of heart esteem others better than himself.  As Jesus took a little child and set him in the midst to teach his disciples, so would we place this young Christian woman in the assemblies of some who are “called of men Rabbi, Rabbi,” that they may learn from her “which be the first principles” of the Christian life.

But let no one suppose that there was any weakness or want of just discrimination in the subject of this memoir.  It is true that the gentler elements predominated in her character, and her father knew what she needed, when he gave her the playful advice to “have more of Cato.”  Without Christian principle she might have been a victim of morbid sensitiveness, or even at the mercy of fluctuating impulses; but religion supplied the tonic she needed, and by the grace of God aiding her own efforts, we see her possessed of firmness of purpose and moral courage enough to rebuke many of us who are made of sterner stuff.

For want of room we pass over many beautiful extracts from the memoir made to exhibit the traits of her character, and to illustrate what is said by the reviewer.

In September, 1843, Miss H. was married to the Rev. J. Van Lennep, and in the following October sailed with him for his home in Smyrna.  Our readers have learned from the letter of Rev. Mr. Goodell, which we lately published, through what vicissitudes Mrs. Van Lennep passed after her arrival at Constantinople, which had been designated as her field of labor.