letter I have lately met with, written to a young lady, about your age, by an uncle:

'I. I recommend to you a diligent attention to your studies. You are now arrived at an age when you are capable of appreciating the value of learning, and ought to feel that the time which is allowed you for this purpose should be diligently improved. When at school take care that no day pass without making some sensible progress in the acquisition of useful knowledge; and when at home let not your books be neglected, but improve your time in reviewing what you have learned at school; and in reading attentively such books as are best calculated to improve your character, and furnish your mind with useful knowledge. When you get a good book read it several times through, so that you may understand it.

II. Guard against vain and useless amusements. In the pursuit of them you would lose time which ought to be spent in business or study; and they would only tend to injure your disposition and temper. In all your visits, and in all your hours of recreation, take care not to do, or say, anything which you would not be willing that your judicious friends should hear or see; or rather, I would say, always remember that God, your Creator, hears all you say, and sees all you do.

III. Cultivate a good temper and a kind disposition. Love to do kind things to others whenever you have opportunity. Guard against being angry, sulky, irritable, morose, or peevish. The way to be happy, and to be useful, is to be kind and affectionate. To love others is the way to gain their love. By giving way to ill-temper you would become unhappy yourself, and make those around you so likewise. Be cheerful, contented, kind, and friendly, and you will always find friends.

IV. Learn to govern your tongue. I trust, indeed, that I need not caution you against falsehood. But I will warn you to be always cautious how you speak of the characters of others. It is better generally to talk about other people's virtues, than about their faults. And if you are sufficiently aware of your own imperfections, you will be sensible that you ought not to be forward in speaking against others. Take care not to indulge unreasonable prejudices against any of your companions, neighbours, or acquaintances.

V. The last and most important direction I have to give to

grace to comply with Remember you are a

you, and which I pray God to give you is-attend to the concerns of your soul. sinner—a great sinner in the sight of God-and exposed to eternal punishment. Christ has died to save sinners. Repent, confess your sins, ery to God for mercy, and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ with all your heart, and he will save you. If you neglect to do this you cannot be saved. Do think of this subject while you are young. You may die in youth. Oh, may God grant you his saving grace.'

"I cannot, my dear Lucy, add anything more to this excellent letter than to beg you to give your undivided attention to it; and to attempt, as far as you can, to follow the excellent advice contained in it.

"I congratulate you most sincerely on the arrival of another anniversary of your birthday. I would unite with you in raising an "Ebenezer" to God, for hitherto the Lord hath helped you. May he protect you through another year. Fourteen years of your earthly pilgrimage are gone, and yet you seem hardly to have commenced your journey. May the coming year be one of unusual happiness to you. May it be spent in the service of the Lord-then it will be happy.

"Should I be taken away from you, may you still be happy in the society of another dear sister, and contribute as much to her enjoyment as you have to mine. Should you be taken from me, still may I feel that the Lord doth all things well; and may I have the unspeakable consolation of feeling that you have gone to immortal bliss. That this may be the case, oh devote the present time to making your eternal interests sure. "Your most affectionate sister,

" ANNA."

About this time, a strong excitement prevailed in the town in which she was residing, in behalf of the suffering women and children of Greece. A society of ladies had been formed to aid in sending them relief, of which Miss B- was secretary. In this work of benevolence, she, who, was the charm and life of the society, contracted a cold which laid the foundation of the insidious disease which brought her to the grave.

During the winter, too, she had been actively engaged with

her pastor's wife in the instruction of a Bible class connected with the Sabbath school. In this department of usefulness she eminently excelled. Possessing a most happy talent of communicating instruction, she was greatly beloved by those young ladies, whom, with such sweet and impressive eloquence, she counselled and admonished from the word of God.

She likewise filled the office of treasurer to the Ladies' Missionary Society of the town; and as she was one who did with all her might whatever she was engaged in, it may easily be supposed that constant application to such labors as these, bore heavily on her weak frame.

At the same time, her grandfather's increasing infirmities devolved upon her the management of his estate as well as that of her mother. The dangerous illness of a young relation who was also under her care, the education of her sister, whose delicate health forbade a residence at a boarding-school, with many other domestic affairs of a similar nature, imposed a burden too great for her to sustain. It was too evident to her friends that her health was sinking under the pressure. Repeatedly was she urged to intermit her many cares, but in vain, until it was too late. Her reply always was, that no one could do for her grandfather so well, and that she was not sensible of any material injury to her health. The truth was, he was in such a feeble state of mind as well as body, that he was disposed to question the propriety of what any one else did, but whatever Anna said or did was right. Her unwearied attention to him, the many acts of self-denial to which she submitted, in confining herself to him when she might have been enjoying the delights of polished society, were not the least interesting traits in her character. Indeed there can be no doubt she fell a sacrifice to her filial piety.

At last, however, she left home to recruit, but alas! it was to die. When on a visit to a friend in Boston, she was taken ill; all the symptoms of a rapid consumption discovered themselves; and her case was pronounced hopeless. When her physician told her that her illness must terminate in death, she received the intelligence with great firmness, but after he retired, she burst into tears. Her sister Lucy approached her weeping; Anna recovering her composure, and extending her hand to her

sister, said, "Lucy, dear, it will be leaving you, but it will be only stepping into the arms of Jesus." From this time her composure never forsook her; she rested on the promises of God, and found sure support.

Her first and principal concern was respecting her beloved sister, whom she committed to the parental care of a dear friend, the wife of her former pastor. She took leave of all her friends and companions with the greatest composure, distributing among them little parting tokens of her affection. As she held the hand of one, she said, "Julia, you and I have spent many pleasant and happy hours together, I hope when you are upon a sick bed you may find the Saviour near and precious, that if we meet not again in this world we may meet in heaven."

It was a moving scene. It went to the heart of all. It seemed like binding the cords of love tighter, and making them still stronger just as they were about to be sundered.

In the hope that the air and quiet of the country might have a good effect in her recovery, she was removed to the house of a dear friend, and so wonderful was the effect of the change, that she was able every day to have a drive for a little distance. Her friends began to have strong hopes of her recovery; and even a voyage to Savannah had been planned, in which she seemed much interested. But alas! it was a flattering hope. Shortly afterwards she became much worse, and her debility rapidly increased; yet, had it not been for her pale and emaciated look at one time, and at another the hectic glow discerned on her cheek, so strongly indicating internal disease, it would have been said she was still in health. Her smile was still the same, and her soft, blue eye, was still lighted up with the sprightliness and animation so natural to her.

In passing events she seemed as much interested as she had ever been, and was amused and excited just in proportion to circumstances. But her sweetest pleasures were found in communion with her God and Saviour. Redemption through the blood of Christ was her darling theme; on this she used to dwell with untiring delight, and such was her appropriating faith, that she more than once assured those around her, that her dependance on the Saviour led her to feel his death was as much for her, as though she was the only being in the

universe for whom it was necessary that atonement should be made.

"I had been in the habit," says Dr. Codman, in a memoir of her which he wrote, " for several days previous to her death, of visiting her chamber at 6 a. m., the time when she always appeared the brightest, and reading to her a portion from a little book, called Daily Food,' and sometimes of praying with her when her strength would admit. Precious are the recollections of those seasons! At some of them, and on other occasions, we had free and interesting conversations on the subject of religion. She uniformly expressed her unwavering confidence in the merits of Jesus Christ; she loved to speak of Christ, of his preciousness, of his atonement. She observed that the belief that Christ died for her, and that he was wounded for her transgressions, was her great support in view of death. It was this that deprived death of its sting.

"She told me that once at the communion-table at my church, she was so perfectly absorbed with a sense of her Saviour's presence, that she was not conscious of the presence of any at

the table but the Lord Jesus Christ and herself.

"It was not often that she conversed on her own experience, and always with great diffidence and propriety. She had religious impressions as early as she could recollect, and I have often thought that she was one of those who are sanctified from the womb.

"Her religion was consistent, with a great degree of cheerfulness, and even of vivacity, during all her sickness, and in the near view of death. She was always the same delightful companion. She never expressed a desire to live, although I have reason to think it would have been pleasant to her. She often checked me for expressing too ardent desires on this subject, in my prayers and conversation, and sweetly comforted her friends in the prospect of the separation which was soon to take place. I had indeed most ardently desired her life, but when I found that she wished me to cease being thus importunate, and that according to all appearance her case was determined, I earnestly sought of God in prayer, that she might have an easy and happy death; and although it pleased Heaven in infinite wisdom to deny the first request, the last was completely answered.”

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