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them is to trifle with your best interests; to conquer them is to achieve your own ruin. Rightly understood, they point you to peace and felicity; they are the flutterings of the winged spirit that would fain soar to its native heaven-the yearnings of the orphaned soul after its Father and its God. Here, in all the eye sees, in all the ear hears, in all the hand touches, in all the imagination devises, it finds nothing adapted to itself-nothing worthy of its final dependance. Earth is all too narrow, time is all too short, the world is all too gross, for its expanding and spiritual capacities. Its pasture, its alliances, its inheritance are in heaven.

Cease, then, from the world, and all the world contains from the seductions of pleasure-from the blandishments of wealth-from the glory of fame and power. They are emptier than vanity, fleeter than the wind; the shadow of a shade, the image of a dream; fair to the sight, tempting to the lip; rottenness to the grasp, and bitter as gall in the remembrance. The love of them is in exact opposition to the love of God, to the soul's present joy and future salvation. O arise, then, to the pursuit of a portion adapted to your rational, commensurate with your eternal, existence! Let your earthbound thoughts and affections ascend to objects worthy of them; let them return to God who gave and inspires them-to God, the rest of the weary, the exclusive centre of the soul! There, in his light, the spirit shall see light, in his purity be made pure, in his glory be restored to its original nobility and grandeur. There, in the uncreated, infinite, and everduring excellence of Deity, it will find a portion which can never be explored--a fountain of perennial delight, which flows but the more freely for the largest demands made on its living fulness!

In your aspirations to this blessedness (if happily excited,) let no sense of your demerit enfeeble or check your desires. The enemy with whom you have to contend, when he can no longer detain you in captivity by the lulling opiates of carnal security, will seek to hold you by the oppressive chains of despondency. But be not ignorant of his devices. Admit, at once, all that he would urge against you; your folly and your sin; your departure from the living God; your idolatrous and perverse attachment to forbidden objects. Fall under the testimony of Scripture, on the error of your ways and the desert of your conduct. Allow that you are miserable, because you have been wicked; and that your wickedness might justly involve you in deepest punishment. But, admit all this, not as an argument against turning to the God you have forsaken, admit it as a reason why you should apply to him with greater earnestness of purpose. The more alarming the disease, the more needful the physician; the more formidable your offence, the more important is strenuous intercession for an act of divine forgiveness.

whosoever will, let him come and take the waters of life freely. There is hope to all who come; none are without hope but those who wilfully stay away, and, by staying away, exclude themselves.

Yet again permit me to address you in the words of caution. There is a wide distinction between certain convictions reaching the understanding, and obtaining full possession of the heart. Yea, there is an essential difference between arriving at the formation of any resolutions, and carrying them out into instant, persevering action. If all who have formed purposes of abandoning sin and seeking in religion forgiveness and felicity, were saved, few indeed would be the number of those who would finally suffer for their crimes. But, alas! in most cases, these resolutions have never found expression in the conduct; they have been extorted by terror, or framed to appease an alarmed conscience. In defiance of them, the tenor of the life has remained unchanged; the present time has been, day after day, given to vanity; the future, while future, promised to better things. These better things, which were not distinctly realized, which the heart did not sincerely love, were postponedand postponed and postponed-till, the hour of inquest and retribution arriving, it was impossible to delay, or to trifle, or to hope any longer; and those resolutions which the will had never adopted, the heart never cherished, stood among the highest aggravations of guilt unpardoned and unpardonable.

In any ordinary circumstance, you would judge it a mark of pitiable and criminal weakness for an individual needlessly to transfer duties it is important to do at once, to a distant period. And, surely, you will not allow yourself to be deceived into the adoption of this dangerous procrastinating principle in a concern of the utmost moment to you? What infatuation and insincerity it implies! Is it too soon to be wise-too soon to be forgiven-too soon to be happy? If you act on a principle which has been fatal to myriads, but for a day, an hour, is it not just to conclude it will be fatal to you? This is a dispensation as strict in judgment as it is rich in mercy! The ordination of Heaven is, "that those who see," and act not agreeably to their perceptions, "shall be made blind." "Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation." It is all present-it is all passing! The Scriptures have not a promise, the ministry has not a commission, for any future time--no, not for the next day, the next hour! Now, now is the accepted time-the only time in which you can be assured of favor and forgiveness! O consider this very urgency of the divine grace, as the noblest proof of its condescension! consider the frailty of your existence as the most pressing motive to respect it! You will not resolve to give yourself up to religion to-morrow, when you may die to-day!

May die to-day! O, I beseech you, lay to your heart a deep sense of your mortality! And seSay not, "There is no hope!" it is the whisper riously, frequently inquire, in answer to all the ilof a proud and unbelieving spirit. There is hope! lusions of the world and the plausibilities of conabundant hope in God! in the compassion of his science, how you can sustain your last conflict heart, in the power of his arm, in the promises of without the presence of religion! To the bed of his gospel, in the vicarious atonement of his Son, death you must surely and shortly come! At this in the effectual influences of his Holy Spirit. Re- moment, time is shorter with you, the grave nearer turn, then, to God, from whom you have revolted, to you than ever. Then, when the body is oppresshumbly confessing your sins, trusting in the accepted with languor and tormented with suffering; ed merits of the Great Mediator, and looking for that assistance which you need, and he has graciously promised. Awake from the lethargy of indifference! arise from the depression of fear! You live under the richest dispensation of mercy. Every thing invites you to God. The kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent (those who are sincerely intent on the object) take it by force. The Spirit says, Come; and the church says, Come; and

when the cold sweat stands on your forehead; when the shadows of death spread themselves over your countenance; when the earth trembles, and shakes, and recedes beneath you; when the spirit shudders at the presence of an opening, unknown eternity; when the dying wandering eye asks an assistance from weeping friends which they cannot afford; then, what will you do without the supports, the consolations of religion! The pleasures you ma

have loved, the honors you may have gained, the Inister to your deliverance! More and greater property you may have amassed, the society you are they that are for you, than all that are against may have cultivated, what will they avail in such you. The Almighty Saviour is on your side in this an hour? They ail belong to a corporeal and conflict! Take hold of h strength-plead his temporal state of existence; in leaving the world mercy-rely on his promise-look to him--flee to you must leave them; and, as far as they are con- him. He will cast out none--the weakest, the cerned, you will find yourself naked and alone at most unworthy--who come unto him. Blessed-the footstool of your Creator! supremely, eternally, infinitely blessed-are they who put their trust in him. Nothing can harm them--nothing impoverish them! To them, affliction loses its sting, and eternity its terrors. In the ruins of the universe they lose nothing-suffer nothing! Then life is to begin-their good things to come. Honors that never fade--riches that are never exhausted-pleasures that never cloy-are theirs. Heaven is their inheritance--eternity their time-and God-the great, the good, the blessed-the light of our light, the joy of our joy, the soul of our existence-is their portion and their glory! This incomprehensible being-opulent in his own perfections, happy in his own excellence-invites you to himself! His arms of paternal love are expanded to receive! The world by its vanity-time by its flight-the grave by its solemnities, urge you to obey this invitation. Yes, even the grave, on such a subject, has a voice awful as itself to warn and exhort you. The life we have traced, the death we have together lamented, the tomb we have together surrounded, do they not speak most powerfully in the ear of Reason and Conscience? Amid the silence, and the darkness, and the mysteries of mortality, is there not a spirit-voice that says―LIFE, EARTH, TIME, are NOTHING! ETERNITY, HEAVEN, GOD are EVERY THING!

As it is appointed for all men once to die, so all must euter into judgment. You must stand at the judgment seat of Christ-you must render an account of the deeds done in the body, of the thoughts cherished in the heart. Solemn, supreme, and final scrutiny! Nothing can be concealed, nothing palliated, nothing altered. The trumpet sounds-the Judge is coming-your eye watches for his appearing! The sun is smitten with darkness, the moon turned into blood, the stars fall from their coursesyou see them not! The thunders of Omnipotence are rolling and raging from pole to pole, from world to world; the earth is dissolved, the heavens pass away with a mighty noise-you hear it not! Millions of your fellow-creatures are ascending from the ruins of perishable creation, and are pressing thick around you to the general judgment--you heed them not, know them not Your fixed, your aching spirit is still searching for the first glimpses of the Judge's appearance! He comes! The tribunal is set-the books are opened you are summoned to his bar! O how will you look on the face of a despised, neglected, injured Saviour! of a just, indignant, powerful Judge!

APPENDIX.

LETTER I

TO HER PARENTS.

on my heart? This, too, is impossible! I must be content to say, that your happiness is dearer to me than my own; and that the mind of your Martha is only peaceful and serene as she believes yours to be so.

I have the happiness to inform you, that my health seems gradually returning; and this, my dear parents, does not give me so much pleasure as the thought that you will be gratified to hear it.

Judgment is followed by eternity. It is this gives it all its terrors. It is this clothes the felicities of heaven with imperishable glory; it is this which gives to punishment a deathless sting. O eternity, eternity! A period without beginning, without pause, without succession, without end! duration without time, being without limit! Your noblest birthright; but, if sinfully abused, your deepest curse! O think of the worm that dieth not-of MY BELOVED AND HONORED PARENTS-Permit your fire that cannot be quenched! Think of a soul Martha to indulge the feelings of her heart towards lost-lost for ever! Living only to suffer; invi- you in writing a few lines. Shall I tell you how gorated, to be increasingly alive to suffering! En- often I think of you? No-I cannot do it! Shall larged in its capacities to contain only a fuller cup I tell you how much I wish you here? Language of wo; immortalized to be immortally wretched! fails. Shall I describe the impression your kindNothing to love-nothing to pursue-nothing to di-ness from childhood to the present hour has made vert the attention from unmixed, unabated misery. Wretched in itself-wretched in its society-wretch ed in the thought of heaven's felicity-wretched, above all, in the thought of the blessings wilfully cast away, the wrath wilfully plucked down on it self-wrath already realized, and always to come! And are you an expectant of these things? Is the Judge at the door? Is an immortality of bliss or wo most surely yours? And can you for a moment be careless to the infinite alternative? Can you neglect now what will shortly engross you for ever? O, by the certainty of death; by the coming of the day of judgment; by the riches of immortality; by the ruinous punishment of the wicked; by all that is dearest to you; by all that is most dreadful; by all that is present; by all that is to come; I entreat, I beseech you what shall I say? in the name of the book by which you are to be judged, I command you, not for an instant, to neglect your great salvation! Awake, arise, call upon God! Pray-watch-wrestle-agonize! All you can do all you can suffer-all you can sacrifice, is unutterably trifling, when salvation is your object, and immortality your prize. The day of mercy is not yet passed-the time of life is not yet spent-the door of hope is not yet shut! Struggle to enter in! It is for your life! and that life eter-"Bless the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name nal! Hell from beneath-heaven from above, are moved for you! Lost demons would decoy you into their own destruction; blessed spirits would mi

A fond mother often says-a parent only can know the feelings of a parent; let me add-a daughter only can know the feelings of a daughter.

I have but two complaints to make; one is, that I am at such a distance from my family; and the other, that I am deprived of the ministry of my beloved pastor. Pray for me, my dearest parents, that I may exemplify all I have heard him inculcate; and may you abundantly realize all those holy delights he so earnestly commends to us! Yours, with unvarying love and gratitude,

LETTER II.

TO MRS. B

MARTHA.

MY DEAR FRIEND-May I not, ought I not, to say,

together!" O for a heart to praise him! How frequently the pleasures as well as the sorrows of life unfit us for this holy exercise! Strange that the

streams of comfort should render us unmindful of the fountain!

remembrance the repeated assurances we have, that Jehovah never forgets his people! But are you How much I shall be gratified by seeing you. ready to fear that he does not remember you in When we meet, may we evidently be as fast pre-mercy, because you so often forget him? If this is paring for eternity as we are advancing towards it!

LETTER III.
TO THE SAME.

MY DEAR FRIEND-My journey was attended with pleasure, pain, and profit.

The pleasure and pain I regarded but little, knowing they would soon terminate; but I was anxious to seize the opportunity afforded me for improvement, because I knew it would never return. This is just as I wish to do in the journey of life.

On Sabbath morning, I entered that sacred place where we have often mingled our praises and our prayers. I looked round; you were not there. My dear mother was confined. Many of my friends had the emblems of mortality about them; upon the countenances of others sat languor and disease. My spirit sunk; and I felt afresh the need of inward consolation. The preacher ascended the pulpit, and chose these words for his text: "Because I live, ye shall live also." I listened while he showed the similarity of the Christian's life to the life of Christ. My spirit was refreshed, and I could not help exclaiming, O that all were acquainted with this source of consolation, wretched as they must be without it!

The preacher proceeded to show that life produced by exertion; and that in proportion as this life advanced in the Christian, his exertions would be general, uniform, energetic, and pleasurable. Such I wished my own exertions might be-such I devoutly wished might be yours; for I know not that I could ask for you any thing more desirable. O if such is the spirit of our exertions, what good may we not do! With such a disposition, every day will afford some opportunities of being useful. Let us determine, my dear, in the strength of Jesus, to engage in nothing without aiming at the divine glory.

LETTER IV.

TO THE SAME.

the case, I can sympathize with you; for when 1 look within, I am often ready to exclaim, Can God indeed dwell here? Yet, let us not be discouraged. Jesus has said, he will cast out none; and he has promised his Spirit to all who ask it. How often, when oppressed with sin and borne down by affliction, are we led to say--I loathe it, I loathe it! I would not live always! It is difficult, very difficult, to preserve a waiting posture, neither anxious for life nor death. When we are summoned to the bar of Jehovah, may our language be, "I have waited for thy salvation, O Lord!" It is at once the language of divine patience and heavenly hope.

LETTER VI.

TO THE SAME.

MY DEAR FRIEND-I cannot exactly enter into your present feelings; but I imagine them. It is no trifling thing to be in a small degree responsible for an immortal spirit; to be wholly so must then be a most serious charge. While reflections of this nature solemnize your mind, it is needful to watch against despondency. Our apprehensions should never sink us below a reliance on Him who has said, "Trust in me at all times."

Let us arise and tell Him all our wants; let us ask of Him great things worthy of a God to bestow; and let us ask in faith; remembering, that we have an advocate with the Father, even Jesus. by our actual exertions, it is gratifying to recollect When we consider how little we can accomplish that we may benefit the whole world by our prayers. May our exertions and our prayers be constantly

united!

entrusted to you. Your influence is no longer small. I hope you will be enabled to improve every talent It is a talent you can, and will employ. How often has my conscience reproached me for neglecting it! May you learn from my regrets! and if possible, let no one come beneath your roof without deriving some advantage from your example, your counsel, your sympathy, or your prayers. Be not deceived, as I have frequently been, by thinking you have not prudence or skill sufficient for the occasion. Wa cannot qualify us; and much of our fancied hu are not called to any duty for which divine wisdom mility may be traced to our indifference.

LETTER VII.

TO THE SAME.

MY DEAR FRIEND-You are in debt to me I know not how many letters; but I am so much indebted to you in another sense, that I cannot help seizing every opportunity of acknowledging my obligations. You have heard, perhaps, that I have been suffering from a fresh disorder. Pray for me, that it may be sanctified, and that in patience I may possess my soul. If it is impossible to enjoy peace and serenity of mind in the hour of sickness, without the supports of religion, how can death be en- SOON, my dear Ann, you will become a parent. dured in their absence? Or should conscience, by Then you will be able more fully to appreciate that a long course of sin, be stupified and rendered in-pathetic declaration, "Like as a father pitieth his different to the solemnities of that awful hour, how children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.” much will the anguish of the spirit be increased, at When you know a mother's feelings, it will appear the moment of its separation from the body! These impossible for you, for a moment, to forget your considerations ought to stir our zeal for the welfare dear infant. Remember, then, my love, for your of others, and lead us to seize on every prudent op- consolation, it is really impossible that your Almighty portunity of impressing the minds of all around us parent should fail in his kindness towards you. with the infinite importance of attending to their I hope your soul is in perfect peace, being stayed eternal concerns. on God. How soon will events that now engage us so completely, cease to interest! Shortly, very shortly, the only great concern will be, whether we are ready for the appearing of the Lord, and what we have done for his glory. May we live now as we shall desire to have lived then!

LETTER V.

TO THE SAME.

MY DEAR FRIEND-Though I am very busy, I hope to have an opportunity of sending to you tomorrow. I therefore lay aside my work, in order to assure you that you are not forgotten by me. Does this assurance gratify you? O let us call to

F often occupies my thoughts! I ardently wish its prosperity. Let every thought of your minister, my dear, be turned into prayer. Ah! we little know all they have to combat with. If we

are dead or lifeless, the effect is trifling; but if they are so, all feel it-all discover it; and if this discovery invariably urged us to wrestle with God on behalf of his servants, what a change might we frequently witness in our families and our churches. Send me word on what evening the poor people assemble for their lecture. I like to meet them in spirit.

LETTER VIII.

TO MISS H

MY DEAREST L: To-day my prospect has been bounded by the opposite houses; my walk has been the length of the room in which I sit; and yet, perhaps, I have enjoyed the works of nature in imaginary rambles, as much as those who have actually taken them. How great are the pleasures of imagination! How kind is our Creator in allowing us so many sources of delight! Exquisite, indeed, was my pleasure while strolling down the shady lanes of Frampton, listening to the music of the birds, or the gentle rippling of the water, surveying the yellow grain, and the busy laborers gathering

it in their bosoms.

I heard Mr. K this evening with much pleasure. Every sentence he uttered was weighty. Good man! his race is almost run, and very soon he will be gathered to his fathers. The young minister, who is all zeal in the service of his Master, and the aged veteran, who has borne the heat and burden of the day, excite peculiar emotions; for one we pray much, for the other our souls are melted into gratitude. There were some excellent petitions offered up for you, in which I most heartily united. How could we live at a distance from those who were dear to us as life itself, if we are not permitted to indulge our affection for them at the throne of Mercy?

Pray, my dearest brother, that my life may be a useful one. I would fain be like a gentle stream, that glides quietly through the vale, refre hing and fertilizing wherever it goes?

LETTER X.

TO MRS. B.

A HAPPY, a prosperous year to you, my beloved friend, in every sense, but especially in a spiritual one! How long it is since I heard from you! The

It has been justly observed, that solitude and si-occupations of life press on us, and steal away our lence, properly enjoyed, exalt the mind above its time; so that, at the close of each successive week, natural tone, fire the imagination, and prepare it for we are ready to exclaim, Can it be Saturday? How the most sublime and exalted conceptions. Retire- perpetually, too, are we constrained to lament, that ment gives birth to new and undefined emotions; the things of time and earth have engrossed too but when every thing else is favorable to his hap large a portion of our attention! If we are conpiness, without the smiles of his Heavenly Father scious of misimproving the past, let us seek to be the Christian's enjoyments are scarcely worth the doubly diligent in future. A new year is coinname. It is the combination of spiritual and intel-menced: what new plans of doing good can we lectual delights, that can transport and satisfy his form? What is most likely to increase our zeal in longing spirit! Let us endeavor, my dear friend, the pursuit of those which exist already? Are there not some individuals over whom we possess a deto connect every thing with God. gree of influence, which has not been sufficiently exerted? Are there not many for whom we have not done all we might do? O how little do Chrislittle do they evince the Spirit of Him who came to tians go out of their way for the good of souls! How seek and to save that which was lost! Blessed Jesus, make us, and make all thy people, increasingly like thyself!

If we are contented to pass through the present state as pilgrims, we shall meet with much to refresh and gratify us; but if we attempt to rest in the wilderness, we shall soon feel a thorn in our pillow. You did not say whether you went to the Sundayschool, or whether you were able to drop a few tracts in your journey. If beautiful scenery elevates and expands the heart, may our increasing "sensibility discover itself in our fervent love to Jesus, and in our simple-hearted efforts to promote the interests of our fellow-creatures!

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I am now seated in your study, and you can hardly tell the pleasure this simple circumstance occasions. Since you did not tell me what book I should read next, I have ventured to begin Allison on Taste. I love knowledge for its own sake; but I wish also to acquire information, that I may be worthy to be called your sister.

The sun shines delightfully this morning; I hope you and dear E. are able to enjoy its beams. When you said she was poorly, I was wishing to be with her, to pay her any little attentions she might require. Were I to indulge my feelings, how I should amplify in my wishes for you; but I forbear, well knowing the expression of our attachment must be restrained and regulated in order to be valuable. When clothed in action, however, it never ceases to be agreeable; and in this way will I ever seek to discover the affection of my spirit.

LETTER XI.

TO HER BROTHER.

Ir is Wednesday night, my beloved brother: consequently I am a little out of spirits, because I cannot fly to the chapel. I hope, however, to cheer myself by a few moments converse with you.

First, permit me to return my sincere thanks for your very kind loan of Stewart, especially as you may have sacrificed some pleasure in foregoing his delightful society. But while to offer thanks may be most gratifying to myself, I am aware that, to a heart like yours, it will be a higher gratification to know that the perusal has afforded me no small pleasure. Among other benefits I hope to derive from it, is a more profound veneration for the Author of my intellectual faculties. I wish to cultivate my rational powers, that I may form more enlarged views of the Divine Being, and that I may have another talent to dedicate to his service. Ó, my dear brother, what an exalted motive does religion supply to every pursuit!

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tend to my physician's advice, and walk twice a day. This morning I crept slowly down a lane, which commands on one side a very fine prospect, Every now and then my book was shut, and I gazed around me like one enamored. Then I looked within, and said

The stillness of this hour expels

with diligent exertion. I need not inform you, my dear brother, that we cannot arrive at excellence of any description by sudden starts: it is only by patient, assiduous, and constant efforts. We shall doubtless meet with many obstacles in the path of duty, and many temptations to draw us aside; still, however, let us remember, as a constant incentive All tumult from my breast. to our endeavors, that the eye of God is on us. When depressed by innumerable difficulties, Yes, my dear, I felt invigorated by the pure air, arising from ill health and want of time, I have and tranquillized by the delightful scenery. Then been encouraged to persevere afresh, by reflecting I leaned on a bridge, contemplating the present, the that my efforts for self-cultivation were not for time past, and the future. I thought of the Hand that but for eternity. O, my brother, never let us be conhad led me all my life long, and hoped I should tented with merely passing through life without donever be unwilling to submit to its guidance, whe-ing any harm; but let us rather be ambitious of rether the path it shall select for me be rough or sisting all evil-of doing much good! Thus shall smooth. I then sauntered home, but not without we manifest, that we are no common enemies of sin feeling grateful to my dear parents for all their and Satan, nor common friends to the present and kindness.

So much for the passing day: now for something more substantial. To-morrow is the Sabbath. O, my dear, how fast is time. rolling away! It is a common observation, but how little does it affect us! Let it not only solemnize our minds, but comfort inem. The faster time flows, the sooner we hope to be released from sin, and admitted to the presence of our Lord. Is the time short? then let us do what we do with all diligence; not waiting, as I am apt to do, for great occasions of usefulness, but seizing with avidity all the lesser ones that offer; remembering that, as by repeated touches of the pencil, the artist completes the piece which remains to be admired for ages, so by a multiplicity of exertions, in themselves apparently trivial, we may hope finally to promote, in no small degree, the good of our fellow-sinners and the glory of our Lord.

You say, my dear, I tell you but little about my Sabbaths. Shall I explain the reason. I do not like the language of complaint, and therefore I am silent. Indeed I have cause to be very jealous of myself, lest I should sink into carelessness and indifference of spirit. I well remember -'s say ing, "One of the causes of declension in religion is, our attendance on a ministry by which we are not benefited." But let me not forget to remind you of the kindness of God. He has said, "the soul of the righteous shall not famish;" and I have never gone looking to him but I have received a portion.

LETTER XIII.

TO HER YOUNGER BROTHER.

MY DEAR BROTHER:-You are kind enough to soncit a frequent correspondence; and I comply with this request the more cheerfully, because it affords me an opportunity of expressing those sisterly feelings, which, at the present eventful period of your life, cannot fail to pervade my heart.

I feel that you are about to enter on the stage of life for yourself. I feel that your character is about to be stamped: and I am anxious, anxious with all the tenderness of a sister, for that character to be stamped by respectability and eminent piety. We have a brother,

*

Let us not disgrace him by neglecting to improve any opportunity either for our intellectual or spiritnal advantage. We have parents who watch our conduct with inexpressible solicitude. O that their last days may be cheered and comforted, by seeing their children steadily pursuing their footsteps!

I am well aware that your heart joins with mine in fervently wishing that you may be the ornament and honor of your family; but how is this desirable end to be brought about? By uniting fervent prayer

eternal interests of our fellow-creatures.

I enclose " Taylor on Self-cultivation." I trust you pray for me, that I may be a blessing in this comforted by the hope, that perhaps God will render place. Great, indeed, are my privations; but I am me the instrument of promoting his glory. Write as soon and as much as you can.

Your ever affectionate

LETTER XIV.

TO MRS. B- -.

MARTHA.

I THINK, my dear friends, of your kindness by day and dream of it by night. May the Father of Mercies recompense all your affection. Poor Mrs. M- is fast declining. O how much we suffer from the transitory nature of terrestrial good. At five-and-twenty we look around for the friends who cheered us at sixteen; but-where are they? Where are they? Not lost, my Ann; they are only gone before us to their heavenly home. O to view every thing in the light of faith, and not in those gloomy shades which unbelief throws over the actions of the Divine Providence!

LETTER XV.

TO THE SAME.

Now, my dear Ann, you must imagine me in a snug cottage, far away from the bustle of the town, and removed even from the little noise of the vil lage street. In fact, the quietude which reigns here would often lead me to suppose myself really at F-, did I not look in vain for the countenances which greeted me in that peaceful spot.

Here my companions are a good-natured widow, and my faithful attendant Maria. Their kindness is a remembrance of yours. I visit but little; and the principal guests I entertain are some fine rosy children. They often beguile my solitary moments; and when I can indulge a hope of doing good to them, I can think of home without a sigh. O the word home! how many ideas does it recall to mind! how many tender regrets does it occasion! and, in defiance of all our efforts to look on the bright side, how many sighs escape us! Well, we will think of our eternal home; we will meditate on its ecstatic pleasures-on their nature and durability, till our spirits learn even to rejoice in tribulation, since we are assured that our light afflictions prepare us for a weight of glory.

O, my dear friends, what heights of piety have been attained by some of those who are now in the presence of their Lord, even in circumstances less favorable to religion than ours!-and what forbids our reaching the same eminence? Let us pra more fervently for each other.

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