proper to fix, if possible, a sense of sin on her conscience, and increase her convictions? I feel that I am ignorant as a beast, but I would not for the world cry, "Peace, peace," where God has not spoken it. O pray for me, that I may have an insight into the complicated windings and shiftings of the human heart, and an acquaintance with spiritual experiences, that I may be qualified to speak a word in season to the various cases I meet with, but especially that after preaching to others, I my self may not be a castaway.

Wednesday Morn. Nothing more special, my dear Nancy. We had a meeting last eve, in which stillness and solemnity prevailed. Respecting a reformation, fear and hope alter nately agitate my breast; tho in this I rejoice that the Lord reigns, that the residue of the Spirit is with him, and that he has a sovereign right to pour it out, when and where he pleases. O that he would make bare his potent arm here, and get himself a great name by the triumphs of his grace, and displays of his mer cy, that we might see his goings forth among us, conquering and to conquer.

Accept, dear Nancy, these hasty lines. Pray for us. Pray for unworthy me. Yours in love, F. W.

Letter Miss C. G. of Bradford.

My dear Charlotte,

Beverly, Dec. 27, 1813.

As far back as my memory can trace, things in this place never appeared more favorable in religious concerns, than at the present, critical, important period. A few dear precious souls for a number of weeks have realized the ne

cessity of awaking from sleep, and using every effort for a revival; have mourned tenderly Över the coldness and stupidity that prevail, and at the throne of grace have been ardent and importunate, that God would appear to build up Zion. A female prayer-meeting has been recently formed, which I consider peculiarly auspicious to the cause of that God who heareth prayer. This meeting is attended weekly, and consists of seven in number. The two we have already had were precious indeed. We hope it will meet with the approbation of God, and be taken under his smiling protection.

The Spirit is evidently striving with many souls, convincing them of their lost and wretched state by nature, and the necessity of a re newal of their hearts. A few are more deep. ly awakened and alarmed, fearing their sins are too numerous and great to be forgiven, that there is no mercy for them; and in their countenances are depicted the grief, sorrow and distress that rend their hearts. One young man is hopefully liberated from the bondage of sin and Satan, and goes on his way rejoicing. I had a number of interviews with him, while under conviction; and have also heard him relate what God has done for his soul. I might detail his conversation, and answers to my interrogations, did time permit. He expresses wonder and astonishment, at his past careless and wicked life, and at the forbearance and mercy of God, and appears filled with a sense of the odious nature of sin, and an ardent desire to honor and glorify his Maker. If his language is, as I hope, an undisguised

representation of his feelings, he must have passed from death unto life. And where is the benevolent heart, that does not overflow with joy? How sweet to behold the weary wan derer, harassed with fears, and burdened with wo, finding an asylum in the ark of safety, and directing his eyes to the blood-stained cross! How delightful to see a returning prod igal added to the little band of Christian pil grims, steering their upward course to Zion's heavenly hill. But what must it be when heaven shail resound with louder strains of joy over nations born in a day-millions of happy beings ushered from darkness to light, blooming in all the beauties of holiness, and singing the praises of their beloved Redeemer! The saddened heart, bleeding over the sins and miseries of mortals, loves to look down the stream of time, and hail the salvation of a dying world-behold this vale of tears, this barren desert, transformed into a beauteous Paradise of love and joy, smiling in all the light of heaven, and reflecting the image of Immanuel. Yours affectionately,

FANNY WOODBURY.

Note to Miss E. S. "of Beverly.

Dec. 30, 1813. O my dear Betsy, do you know what trouble is? Your Fanny knows by painful, incessant experience. My deafness is peculiarly trying; the more so, as I long to fly to the abodes of penury, sickness and afflic tion. Will you not do it for me? Go then and console the wretched, warn the stupid simmer, and relieve the indigent. Can we say we have nothing to give? Can we not curtail our ex•

penses? Can we not lop off some superfluity of dress? Can we not with our own hands make garments for the poor? And can we not put into their hands some tracts? We can visit the rich, the prosperous, the influential. And can we not visit, counsel, instruct, admonish and assist the poor and the needy? My friend, do not be displeased with my freedom. I speak to myself also. I feel my own guilt. I feel that I have been too negligent; and yet I am in a manner incapacitated. The wants of

the poor are imperious and numerous. A certain delicacy prevents many from complain. ing to others, when they need help. Shall we indulge in the comforts and perhaps luxuries of life, and other dear fellow-creatures be destitute of the necessaries? True, the wealth of Peru, is not ours; and perhaps there is little we can call our own. But have we not two mites we can throw in? and if we are faithful in that which is little, may not a bounteous Providence bless us with more.

O that we could be ready to every good word and work. It is but a short winter's day, comparatively speaking, that we have to spend on earth. Opportunities to do good daily occur, and soon they will be over forever. us then improve them without delay. stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord." I long to see you. in love.

JOURNAL, 1813.

Let

"Be ye

Yours

F.

Dec. 31. Arrived at the last day of another year, I pensively resume my pen to write. My hand is not yet mouldering in the dust nor my

heart still in death, tho the time is near, when this will be the case. Yes, I feel eternity to be near, the bar of God in view, and death advancing with speedy step. The world sinks in my esteem as less than nothing, unworthy' to occupy a serious thought; while Christ appears more exceedingly amiable, his cross dearer to my heart, and the good of Jerusalem more precious and desirable.

The year which will soon close has been marked with goodness and mercy from above; but on my part stained with innumerable sins. Streams of mercy, ever flowing, call for songs of loudest praise." In connexion with those great spiritual blessings, which ought ever to warm the Christian's heart, I have been the recipient of thousands of favors, which my pen fails adequately to record. My hearing has been of late very clear, and my health uncommonly good; so that I have sat under the droppings of the sanctuary with sweet delight, and heard many precious dis courses from the legates of the skies; and, I trust, not altogether in vain. I have had large additions to the cheering boon of friendship, the zest of mortal life, in whose society and correspondence I have oft tinies found a solace to my aching heart, and light and direction to my wayward feet. I have had many religious privileges, particularly have attended many female meetings, and on the social altar of prayer and praise have had devotional fire inflamed, and felt my heart to burn within me. A weekly female inecting, through the good hand of God, is established in this place for the purposes of prayer, reading the scriptures,