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to endure the cross, as well as look forward to the crown.

I rejoice that, vile and unworthy as I am, our dear Lord has favored me with many estimable friends, in whose society and correspondence I take so large a share of placid joy in this inhospitable world. But O how painful to "weep o'er many a friend to dust consigned." Peace to the far distant grave of Harriet; and embalmed be her memory in the hearts of the pious. May our last days be like hers, calm, serene, and marked with the triumphs of faith and hope. I intend to let you have her Memoirs a few days, and I think you will admire the loveliness of her character, her ardent piety and engagedness of heart in the work of the Lord. "That life is long which answers life's great end." Her years, tho few, were consecrated to diligence and zeal in religion after her conversion, and she has quickly performed the arduous work assigned to her; and now sweetly rests from her labors and her sorrows. Will not my dear Miss W. supply her place to me, and be a faithful friend to warn, admonish and instruct? Pray for your affectionate FANNY.

Letter to Miss H. G. of Bradford.

My dear Hannah,

Beverly, June 4, 1814.

BLEST with a renewed opportunity of addressing you, I readily improve it; and could I impart some spiritual gift to your edification and to the glory of your God, my heart would rejoice, even mine. But alas, while I am so cold and negligent in the best of causes, I have

no reason to expect to animate and engage others. Why is it thus? The character of Immanuel is still lovely and glorious; and in his vineyard there is much to be done. Life is hastening to its close, and I am drawing nearer to the grave, where "forgetting the world, and by the world forgot," my mortal frame must repose, till the last trump shall summon the sleeping dust to the bar of God. Yes, my dear friend, our earthly course will soon be completed; but the consequences of this state of trial will be tremendously woful or ineffably blissful to our immortal souls. Through an endless duration, we shall reap the reward of our doings, either rising in glory, or sinking in wretchedness. Eternity, eternity, is entailed upou poor earth created man, and this eter nity is yours, is mine, is the mighty portion of all the descendants of Adam.

Is it so, my dear friend? And can we for a moment be indifferent to our eternal all, and live as tho earth was our abiding place, or death would extinguish the breath of the Almighty?* Is it so? And can we be insensible to the situation of those, who are in bondage to sin and Satan, and verging to the lake, which burneth with fire and brimstone? Is it so? And can we be lukewarm in the blest service of our adorable Redeemer, and uninter ested in the concerns of Zion, the city of our God, and the welfare of the world at large?

Did these truths properly affect our hearts, solemn indeed would be our feelings, and dif ferent would be, our lives. We should then behold the vanity of this passing world, and,

The human soul.

soaring beyond its trifling things, should penetrate the veil of futurity, and survey that ever blessed region, where flourish substantial joys and unrivalled honors. We should labor earnestly and unremittingly for the salvation of our own souls and the souls of others. content to have our names cast out as evil, and loaded with slander, reproach and ridicule. We should be anxious to fill every remaining moment of our lives with duty, and every duty with holy activity and devout ardor, depending on the strength of Christ, and with reference to the glory of God. And filled with a deep and continual sense of our innumerable sins and imperfections, our utter nothingness and unworthiness, we should make constant appiication to the blood of sprinkling, and fly to the righteousness of our great High Priest.

O that you, my dear friend, may not have so much occasion for self-accusation as your unworthy Fanny! May you live as a dying mortal, as a probationer for eternity, and treading the world beneath your feet, may you hold sweet and ravishing communion with God, and read your title clear to a mansion in that kingdom, bought with the blood of Jesus, and destined to flourish in eternal splendor. Happy indeed are the saints of the Most High. O that their privileges and immunities, their present sublime supports and future enrapturing prospects may be ours. And their trials and crosses, their fears and temptations, we will likewise hall, if their God may be our God, and their home our home. .O the calm and serene rest, the boundless and inconceivable delights, which await those, whose robes

have been washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb, who have traced the nar row path, tho lined with difficulties, snares and woes, and safely reached its end. With what amazing bliss will they salute the bright throng around the throne, and casting their crowns at the feet of their Lord, unite their lays in concert with adoring millions in cease. less songs of praise to God and the Lamb. Far from this earth of sorrow, and beyond the reach of sin, they shall forever solace their weary souls in the bosom of their Savior, and drink of the streams, that flow unruffled at his right hand.

If the glory of heaven be such as mortal eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart conceived; how awfully miserable must those be, who, despising all its immortal joys, choose the road to death and ensure a portion in the bottomless pit. O my dear friend, trembling seizes me, when I think how many will come short at last, whose hopes were firm and strong, and who by the judgment of erring men were deemed the salt of the earth. Pray that this may never, never be the case of your friend Fanny; for it is what I have reason to fear, when I glance at my life and my heart. O may we build our hopes on the corner Stone, laid in Zion; may we glory in tribulation; may we exult in death; and amidst the momentous scenes of that day, for which all other days were made, may we lift up our heads with triumphant joy, and in tranquil serenity sing the victories of Christ our King. My friend, when our few fleeting days are over, and death has chilled our mortal frames,

may our spirits be cemented by the endearing. ties, and glow with all the ardor of heaven; and to our glorified and lovely Immanuel we will render a never ending tribute of grateful praise. So may it be. Yours in love, FANNY.

JOURNAL, 1814.

June 19. For four Sabbaths I have heard scarcely a sentence from the pulpit. Glowing with inextinguishable thirst to visit the courts of my God, and listen to the truths of the gospel, O who can conceive my emotions, when I immure myself in my retirement? With the Psalmist tears have been iny meat, tho I great, ly fear they were tears of sinful impatience.

This day Dr. W. preached below, and esteeming him highly as the compiler of my Harriet's writings, with what relish should I have heard him. But alas, Providence destines me to many a wo, and I will cheerfully submit.

But can I be useless? In this critical moment, when the world is in tremendous agitation, and all intelligent beings are actively engaged for or against that kingdom, which shall prevail, O can I be a solitary neutral? No, it must not be. I must be useful in some way. I have devoted my pen to the Lord,* and if he

*There is no doubt that she here refers to her determination to write occasionally for the Panoplist. To some it may appear strange, that she should form such a purpose. An explanation, therefore, may not be deemed improper. It is doubtful whether she would ever have thought of writing for the public, had it not been suggested to her. She was earnestly addressed upon the subject in a manner nearly as follows. "Tho you have a very low opinion of your own composition, yet others, and especially the editor of the Panoplist, can judge of its merits much better than

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