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all his enemies. He finds in the humble per formance of his duty that peace of mind, which passes understanding-joys to which the ungodly are strangers. He has many an Ebenezer to erect, and many a place on which might well be inscribed Bethel. His trials all come with a need be, and shall all work together for his good; and he shall soon be brought to the place his Redeemer has prepared for him; where he shall hear the voice of war no more forever; and where all tears shall be wiped away.

Do we, my beloved friend, hope for that rest, which remaineth for the people of God? Let us then purify ourselves even as he is pure, be stedfast, immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord. O that this were indeed the case with me.

Our friends, Nancy and Harriet have manifested great self-denial, disinterested benevolence, and heroic fortitude. Shall I see them

no more?

"Of joys departed, ne'er to be recalled;
How painful the remembrance."

Your very affectionate friend,

F. WOODBURY.

To my

JOURNAL, 1812.

Aug. 7. The sun is about to set.

beloved cousin, Mary Kimball, it has set already, and set to rise no more.

All that was

mortal of that once animated and beauteous girl rests beneath the sod. Little did she think a few days ago, that her delicate and graceful form must be consigned so soon to the narrow grave.

Yet this was the decree of

Heaven; and no human being could reverse it. Mary, my dear Mary, I shall see you no more beneath the skies. Death has in a moment placed you beyond my ken, while my tears shall bedew your memory, and if permitted, shall descend in copious streams on your new made grave. My dear cousin, how did you feel, as you left all mortal things, and ranged the fields of ether?

This catastrophe has involved a once happy family in tears and gloom. One of its fairest flowers is withered. Methinks I see them clad in mourning, suffused in tears, and inconsolable. O my dear Nancy, often may you repair to her grave, and see the instability of all earthly things, and remember you must follow; and perhaps soon sleep by her side in a bed of dust. O Nancy, weep not for her, but weep for those sins, which nailed the Savior to the cross, and extorted blood from every pore. O that you may lean on the almighty arm of the Redeemer, while you pass this vale of tears. Now you are deprived of your only sister, your bosom-friend, with whom you have shared many a joy, and spent many a rolling year; O that your bleeding heart may be healed and cheered by the God of all comfort, and made a fit receptacle for his Holy Spirit. May your remaining days be devoted to his glory; and, after a life of usefulness, may he smooth your dying pillow, and welcome your departing spirit to that happy land, where all tears shall be wiped away. O Lord, thou seest the dear family immersed in the deepest gloom. Make this exquisite trial to work for their immortal good. Give them

the "oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." Dry up their falling tears. Impress this monitory call on the heart of each individual; teach them the vanity of all beneath the sun, the brevity and uncertainty of life, the importance of time and of being prepared for death; and eventually receive them all to thy kingdom of glory, where neither sin nor sorrow shall ever enter.

Aug. 9. With all my credulity, I can scarcely believe that Mary Kimball is no more. Is she dead? She whose animating beauty and vivacity lighted animation in many a heartshe who was the idol of her fond parents, brother and sister, the delight of her friends— she who had just appeared conspicuously on the theatre of life, whose heart beat high with prospects of future bliss-is she laid in the tomb? Her corporeal part rests in the dust. No youthful beauty, no skill of the physician, no human power, could ward off the fatal blow. While she is removed from these earthly scenes, and early consigned to her kindred dust, she will live in the affections of her friends, and her grave shall be bedewed with the tears of affection. Her probation is ended, her race is run, and her eternal state com menced. What amazing scenes are disclosed to her view; what vast realities open to her astonished sight. Oh Mary, how is it?

"But ah, no notices she gives,

Nor tells us where, nor how she lives."

Oh sin, what hast thou done? But for theé sorrow and death had never been. But ah, blessed be God for the Bible, which brings life and immortality to light, which discloses a

heaven beyond the grave, where storms and troubles never come. O, when I pass the gloomy vale, may Jesus be near to support and guide my fainting spirit, and receive it to the embraces of his everlasting love.

Dear Sisters,

Letter to her Sisters.

Newburyport, Aug. 14, 1812.

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AGREEABLY to your request, I shall now attempt to give you a concise account of the exit of our dear cousin. Near a fortnight fore that heart-rending event took place, my uncle and aunt had information that she was worse; and accordingly they immediately repaired to the place of her residence. They found her very sick, her head in the most exquisite distress, which had deprived her of the exercise of her mental powers, which she never after enjoyed, except at intervals. In one of these intervals, she told Nancy, who made her a short visit, that she must die and was willing to die. Two days after the commencement of her last distressing illness (for she died not literally of her original complaint, but of the dropsy in the head) her physician told her he could do no more for her; and asked if she could not put her trust in God; to which she replied, she thought she could. Da. M. of Salem was sent for; and on his arrival said he could do nothing for her. Her parents were ith her till she breathed her last; and every effort was used for saving her life; but death had received his commission, and youth, beauty and virtue, fell a victim to his darts. Nancy Young, of whom you have heard Mary

speak, rests with her beneath the sod. She was a very amiable character, an only daughter, and like Mary, very much beloved. "But death loves a shining mark, a signal blow."

I am very much at home here. My friends treat me with as much attention as I can possibly desire, and vastly more than I deserve.

If you receive any letters for me from my friends, I wish you would gratify me so much as to send them to me directed to my uncle; and one of you write how you are, and whether any thing special has taken place since my departure. Yours, &c. F. WOODBURY.

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My friends here are as much composed as can be expected, and send their love.

Letter to Miss E. S. of Beverly, then at Bradford Academy.

My dear Friend,

Beverly, Sept. 6, 1812.

I CONSIDER your present situation important and critical. You not only possess advantages for acquiring polite and scientific knowledge; but you are indulged with many religious privileges. You have a rare opportunity for studying the philosophy of Jesus, and becoming an heir of his kingdom, which if you neglect, may be to your everlasting ruin. By nature we are children of wrath, alienated from God, and at enmity with him. Hence the necessity of a new heart, of being born again, of being created anew in Christ Jesus. And nothing short of sovereign grace can effect this radical change-can bow our stubborn wills, soften our adamantine hearts

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