have been turned into the strait and narrow. path, which conducs to regions above. Their. eyes glisten with sweet delight; their smiling countenances are an index to what passes: within; and their lips celebrate the praises of Immanuel. We do hope that the Spirit is yet moving, and that we shall see still greater things than these. For this, let every Christian frequent the throne of grace. Indeed we

have much need of a reformation. O for the out-pouring of the Spirit, plenteous floods of righteousness, to water the church and the world, to gladden the hearts of the pious, and bring glory and honor to God. O what a glo. rious day have we in prospect, a day which shall call a dying world to life, and shed light and salvation on regions, enveloped in the shadow of death. Rapturous hosannas shall roll across the oceans, and warble sweetly in every desert wild. From the lowly hut of the Hottentot, praises shall ascend to the lovely Babe of Bethlehem. All heaven joyfully looks down on our happy globe, and tunes anew its golden harps to the wonders of redeeming love.

Pray for me, my dear Miss W. and may Jesus bless your soul abundantly. Yours, &c.

FANNY WOODBURY.

Letter to Miss B. P. of Danvers.

Beverly, Feb 7 or 8, 1814,

I READILY join with you, my dear Betsy, in placing "secret devotion among our principal duties," and think no one has any reason to conclude he is a Christian, if he lives in the omission of this duty, or performs it habitually

in a cold and formal manner; I say habitually; for alas, eminent believers are too often languid and lukewarm. They enter their closets, and shut the door, but their hearts are glued to this world. They assume the humble posture of devout supplicants; but they are weary of being continually beggars, and secretly wish they had something to recommend them to the favor of the Most High. They look towards Heaven, and call on the great and glorious Eternal; but their views are clouded and almost bounded by things that are seen; their thoughts wandering on forbidden objects; and a thousand vain and foolish chimeras crowd upon their minds, till in hurry and distraction they willingly conclude. After such a heartless prayer, ought not, must not, compunction, self-abasement and contrition penetrate the cold breast, and cause it to heave with the most painful emotions? And when access and enlargement again smile on the mourning soul, how delightfully will he love, and praise, and admire; how carefully will he guard every avenue to his heart; how vigor. ously repel temptation; how earnestly watch and pray, lest he offend his God, and bring leanness and darkness into his soul.

I am more than ever convinced of the utility of importunate, frequent prayer. What God graciously does in answer to the cries of his children, will never be known, till the judg ment-day brings hidden things to light, and discloses the immutable plans, purposes and procedures of Him, who is "wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working." Were it not for the sweet incense, which continually

ascends to Heaven from the bosom of the Christian, sinners would instantly sink into the pit of perdition, and the world be wrapt in flaming ruins. Invaluably precious are all, whose pious breath perfumes our guilty globe, and, soaring beyond the skies, sheds blooming beauties and immortal blessings on this waste howling valley of tears. How much may we benefit our beloved friends in this way. Unknown to them, and unobserved by mortal eye, we may increase their pious joy. If they are oppressed with darkness and affliction, we may wipe the tear of sorrow from their eyes, and cause their bleeding bosoms to realize the heavenly peace and immortal comforts, which Immanuel bestows. O why are we not more intimately acquainted with the benevolent duty of intercession for others? and why are we not more sweetly familiar with a throne of grace? Communion with God, how ineffably delightful, how unspeakably honorable! It is one of the most precious drops of heaven, that bedews this dry and distant land--the lenient soother of care the mighty "solace of immense distress." It gives a rich zest to all the numerous blessings and enjoyments of life. O what an import do these words convey; "Our fellowship is with the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ.'

May divine grace animate my dear Betsy, and enable her to imbue the tender minds of her young pupils with useful knowledge and true piety.

Respects to your mother, love to your sister, and a large share of affection to yourself, Write my dear friend, soon to your obliged unworthy FANNY.

Letter to Mrs. M. C. of Marblehead.

Beverly, Feb. 12, 1814.

My dear and venerable Mrs. C.

MR. B. requests me to write a few lines to you, alleging it will give you satisfaction; and tho I should esteem it a favor to conduce to your enjoyment in any way, yet I am loth to believe I can effect it by my pen.

Standing, as you do, on the brink of Jordan, in daily expectation of the summons to pass over, I trust you have good evidence of your title to an inheritance in the Canaan beyond, and faith to espy its blessedness and glories, You witness a good old age, and goodness and mercy have attended you to the present moment. Yet when you look back, and behold how swiftly your life has passed, and how chequered with difficulties, fears and troubles, I doubt not, but you can readily adopt the language of the patriarch, "Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been." Happy is it for the Christian, that he is not always to wander in this dark and inhospitable wilderness, exposed to enemies, snares and dangers, and far from the God he loves. No, his time of trial and probation is short, and, as he lives a stranger and a pilgrim here, so, when the shadows of the evening draw over him, and his sun sinks to rest, his happy spirit shall find that better land, where God, and saints, and angels dwell. There he rests from his labors, from all his conflicts, trials and sorrows, and leaning on the bosom of Jesus, finds eternal repose and everlasting peace. No subtle templer, no ensnaring world, no wicked heart to trouble and oppress him. These he left

with his expiring breath, and bade them a delightful and endless adieu. Holiness and happiness possess his enlarged soul, and faith, changed into vision, beholds the glories of Deity, while songs of immortal praise dwell on his tongue. He stands complete in Christ his Savior, and love, joy, gratitude and hallelujahs shall form his blest employ, lasting as eternity.

It is good, my dear friend, to look beyond this vale of tears into that glorious rest, that remains for the people of God. The prospect of this cheers us in this distant land, and sweetens our wearisome pilgrimage below. It is this that enlightens the night of adversity, and pours consolation into the sufferer's cup, while it strengthens the fainting traveller by pointing to his eternal home. This has oft raised my spirits, sinking with grief, and eased my heart, oppressed with fear. But I frequently question whether this hope is not the hope of the hypocrite, which shall perish when God takes away the soul—a hope, which takes the comfort of the promises, while it overlooks the conditions. I know it is a great thing to be a humble follower of the Lamb, to have Christ formed in the soul, the evil dispositions and lusts subdued by grace, holiness enstamped on the heart, and heaven begun below. And doubtless thousands ruin their immortal souls by thinking they are something, when they are nothing, coatented with a namie to live, while they are dead, deceiving themselves by some refuge of lies, and yet vainly imagining they are going to heaven Bút O bow great will be their astonishment,