rused, and re-perused, with much solicitude and tender feeling; and for it I return you my most cordial thanks. These dear pre

cious children, O what an account have you given! what a picture have you drawn! My heart, tho adamantine, softens and sinks with in me, as it takes an excursion to Haverhill and Byfield. Dear children, I commiserate, and fain would I meliorate, your deplorable condition. But you must, you will be snatched from ignorance, vice and wretchedness, and roused to respectability, usefulness and felicity. Methinks, I already see you decently clad, your eyes sparkling with joy and grati tude, and swallowing the words of instruction with docility and avidity. Shall I not hope, that some of you will learn the sweet language of Canaan, and commence your journey to the New Jerusalem, with glowing ardor and im mortal rapture-with the songs of Zion bursting from your lips? O that you may be enabled to consecrate your youthful years to God, live the lives of heaven-born souls, imbibe the temper of the meek and lowly Jesus, triumph in his propitious smiles and transcendant glo rics; and when you pass the vale of death, may the portals of Paradise open to your view and admit your enraptured souls to boundless beauties and immortal delights.

the family, in the school-house, or in the sanctuary. Such children, alas, there are in many places in our country. The Philendian Society, formed May 1813, has been sig nally blessed. Its members, who belong principally to Haverhill and Bradford, have set a noble example, which, it is hoped, will be extensively and successfully imitated.

O my Charlotte, why are not Christians en gaged? O for that heaven-inspired zeal, which constantly appeared in our great Examplar, and which animated the breast of Paul, when he flew, with almost a seraphic speed, from house to house, and place to place, on the errands of everlasting love. O when shall we be all life, all activity, in the cause of our dear Redeemer-all philanthropy, love and humility? O when shall we feel the unutterable worth of souls, and compassionately exert ourselves for their good? When shall we be crucified to the world, and the world to us, forget our wicked selves, and employ every power and talent we possess, for the promotion of Zion's interests, the advancement of Iminanuel's kingdom? O when? But let me not implicate you. I speak for myself. O when shall this awfully selfish, vile heart, drink deeply into the love of Jesus, and embrace a world of immortal souls, and glow with gratitude, love and zeal, in that precious, glorious cause, for which Jesus bled on Calvary, and which is the only object worth living for? O I think I do long to do good. I could fly to the dear little cots in Newbury, display to them the awfully tremendous threatenings of the law, and the soul-ravishing charms of the gospel, and the worth of their never-dying souls, and direct them to that Savior, whom to know aright is eternal life.

I send you one mite; and my heart heaves with a sigh, that I can do no more. Were I possessed of Indies of gold, I should not be at a loss how to spend it. But had I more, perhaps it would only pamper my lusts However, I wish I might never spend another cent.

in superfluities. O how much good might I do. Do pray that I may not be a cumberer of the ground.

Letter to Miss S. K. of Wenham.

FANNY.

April, or May, 1815. How does your soul do this morning, my dear Sally? Did not your waking eyes salute the first dawn? and did not the aspirations of your heart ascend to Him, that seeth in secret, and is Lord of the Sabbath day? Have you not taken an excursion with me to Gethsemane and Calvary? and did not your heart dissolve into compunction, love and gratitude, at the melting scenes there exhibited? Have you been on the summit of Tabor, and been favored with a soul-ravishing view of the beau ties and glories of the incarnate God? And have you enjoyed the sweets of communion with God, and had intimate access to the throne of grace? Except we know something of these views and feelings, we are not genuine Christians. If we would be saved at last, we must know religion, not only in theory, but in experience and practice. In yain do we

call Christ, Lord, Lord, if we are not careful to do the things which he commands, and adorn our profession with the fruits of the Spirit. In vain do we retain the form of godliness, if we do not feel its renovating and invigorating power in our souls, stimulating us to live soberly, righteously and godly, in this evil world; not conformed to its wicked customs and fashions, but transformed by the renewing of our minds, after our great Exampiar. Eternal truth hath said, "If any man

love the world, the love of the Father is not in him." and, "the friendship of the world is en mity with God." God and mammon are at eternal variance; and fruitless are all endeavors to form a coalition. One or the other must have the supremacy in our hearts, and receive our service. God will admit no competitor. He will either have the primary place in our affections or none at all. Those who make religion only a secondary object, performing those duties to which they are nat urally most inclined, but avoiding those which are self-denying and arduous, and retaining their favorite lusts and darling sins, however orthodox their sentiments, and strict their forms, and, however bright their hopes of heaven may be, they are under a most awful delusion, and will be undeceived in eternity, if not in time. It is to be feared there are many almost-Christians, who are not far from the kingdom of God, but who never enter it. But when once the kingdom of Jesus is established in the soul, down falls the Dagon before it; the beloved Herodias is renounced; the vanities, and delights of the world are trampled upon; the affections allured to Jesus; grace reigns in the heart; and the beauties of holiness" regulate and decorate the life. Do we, my dear Sally, know any thing of this internal change of heart, without which none can enter into the kingdom of heaven? Have we seen ourselves poor, and miserable, and blind, and naked-felt the innate opposition of our hearts to God and his holy law, and trembled under Sinai's fiery thunders, in awful expectation of everlasting destruction? Have we been

brought to throw down the weapons of our rebellion, to bow cordially to the sceptre of Jesus, and take refuge in the ark of safety? Have our hearts been smitten with the love of Jesus? and, having felt the inefficacy of our own righteousness, do we cordially rely on his mer. its for justification before God? Forgetting the things that are behind, do we reach after them that are before, and press after greater conformity to God, and increasing holiness in heart and life? Do we love to pour out our hearts to God in secret prayer? and does each passing day attest our humility, patience, heavenly mindedness and devotion to God? Do we love the society of lively Christians, and the word of God? and do we love to converse most on the things pertaining to the kingdom of God?

O my cousin, can we answer these questions, with truth, in the affirmative? If so, we will dismiss our desponding doubts and fears, and travel with alacrity and zeal the road to Zion. But if not, we have great reason to conclude we are yet impenitent and unconverted, and stand obnoxious to the wrath of an incensed God. Do let us examine our hopes, and see whether they will stand the test. All terrestrial things are evanescent, as the morning cloud and early dew; and eternal realities imperiously demand our solemn attention. Ere long we must close our eyes on all below, and enter on an untried and unchangeabie state of retribution. O how shall we feel, when we leave all mortal things, and the light of eternity shall burst on our astonished scuis? What momentous realities, what amazing won