tenders his respects, and still solicits a further continuance of their favors. * Those agents (for those are considered such to whom the bundles have been directed) who wish to discontinue their agency, will please to engage others, and seasonably inform us at our office.

Obituary. Died, in Plymouth, June 3, 1820, Mrs. MARY Boyntov, wife of Deacon Amos Boynton, in the 77th year of her age. Noveabts 15th, 1823, Deacon Amos BOYNTON, in his 79th year." Deacon Boynton was, for many years, a member of the Congregational Church in Plymouth, in which he officiated as Deacon He ever sustained a good reputation as a religious and moral man, and was scrupulously exact ju the perfurınance of religious duties, according to the rules of life embraced by our fathers. At the time of the excommnnication of his son, Isaiah Boynton Esq. the account of which is contained io the first nuruber of the third volume of the Christian Repository, he withdrew from the Church. We know not that he ever fully embraced our views of universal salvation; but seemed to be one that desired to see the day of Christ, aud ready to rejoice at the universal spread of gospel light and truth.

In the same town, Jan. 16, Widow Molly PAGE, in the 73 year of her age, At Weston, Jan. 7, Mr. GIDEON PEASE, in the 67th ye.ir of

The following lines were written by Miss Minerva Mayo, of Os

ange, Mass. a few days before her death, which took place, June 9, 1822.

WHAT'S TAIS WORLD TO ME?
I view the earth with all its sweets,

I see each verdant tree,
I see the sun send forth its heats ;

But what's this world to me?
'Tis but a drral of discontent,

When lope has turu'd the key,
And left me bere now to lacuerit,

And what's this world to aje?
I soon shall gain the hopeful prize,

Refiu'd from vanity,
An i with that spirit I shall rise,---

Then what's this world to que?
Tis but a shadow in disguise,

To what I soon shall see ;
A home of life beyond the skies

Says, what's this world to me?
Olet me have fair wisdom's wings,

And I will soon be free;
I'll go and leave all meaner things,

For what's this world to me?
'Tis nothing in my longing eyes,

It soon from us will flee;
But there is one that never dies,

Aud what's this world to ne ?
Yon ligbtuing's sharp and wbirling power

Bade my faint spirit be
Resign'd, and wait the destind hour

i But what's this world to me?
The hour has come, I'm going home

With bim who's paid my fee;
I do not fear the grave or tomb;

He's made a home for me.
He's made a home for every soul,

For all that's in the sea ;
And all that death and hell have stole :

Now what's this world to me?