It is true, Jamaica, at the period of our narrative, enjoyed not the high privileges it now possesses of Christian instruction, and of Christian example; but Mrs. Delaney was one amongst the few, who, feeling and enjoying the light and the consolation of religion, were anxious to impart a portion of what cheered their own hearts--of that which directed their steps, to those who yet "sat in darkness and the shadow of death." Deeply interested in her hapless slave, from the moment she saw her, Mrs. Delaney had soothed, by truly maternal attention, her bodily sufferings, and her mental anguish. She inwardly deplored her total ignorance of that grand source of consolation, the knowledge of which was so open to those who despised it. She gently prepared the feelings and the understanding for the reception of that light, which she fervently prayed might be imparted to her benighted mind. She gradually led her docile steps, her mental view, to Him who invites the heavy laden to resort to him for rest; to seek Him who is the strength and the fortress of those that trust in him; to adore, with unfeigned humility, that transcendent mercy, which became poor that we might be rich. What heart is there, bereft of all earthly good, all earthly hope, but must expand with joy, to receive into its most inmost recesses the precious promises of Christianity?--of that mild and beneficent religion, which so tenderly sympathizes with every emotion of the weak, the frail, the lacerated bosom? Was it then surprising, that the poor Imihie, with feelings too powerful for utterance, hung upon the mild accents of Mrs. Delaney, as she described to her the sufferings of the Redeemer--the abyss of wretchedness from which he rescued mankind--the dreadful penalty from which he saved a rebellious world? Was it surprising, that, with an eager gratitude, which gave a heavenly expression to her languid eyes, and displayed itself in every varying feature, she listened to the glorious truths of revelation, unfolded in terms suited to her expanding capacity; and that, with all the simplicity of unsophisticated nature, receiving the noblest impressions of Deity, she bade Mrs. Delaney thank her great good God for his marvellous kindness to wretched captives, and for the unsearchable riches of his grace. Never was she wearied in hearing her kind instructress recount the sufferings of the incarnate God: tears, the offspring of genuine feeling, chased each other down her altered countenance, as Mrs. Delaney directed her imagination to the garden of Gethsemane, to the judgment-hall, where He, whose throne is heaven, and his footstool earth, was exposed to insult, contumely, and scorn; scourged, buffeted, spit upon; betrayed by one friend, denied by another, and abandoned by all; subjected to a painful, a cruel, and an ignominious death, in the presence of insulting foes: the very spirit clouded by the momentary abandonment of heavenly aid, forcing from the lips of the sufferer the agonizing exclamation: "My God, my God! why hast thou forsaken me?" and all this for the love he bore for those who became his murderers.