tressed, lest he shall die before his poor soul is interested in the love of the Lord Jesus Christ. He now wishes he had loved and served God when he was in health. My dear S., will you not pray for him, that he may have the Holy Spirit given him, that he may repent of sin, and love the Saviour, and believe in him before he goes into eternity? And oh, my dear child, pray often, pray earnestly for yourself. I want to have you give your best days, "the dew of your youth," to God. I want to have you love and serve him from your earliest years. Adieu, my very dear girl. May the Lord bless and keep you, conduct you safely through all the dangers of this ensnaring world, and bring you at last to his kingdom.

The letter next to be inserted seems to require a word of explanation. The person mentioned under date of October 12, as preaching to the congregation of which Mr. Huntington had been pastor, had received from them an invitation to settle, and had left Boston to visit and consult with his friends. As it would be inconvenient for Mrs. Huntington to change her residence before spring, he had proposed to her, if he should return, to continue in the parsonage house until May, and receive him and his wife into her family as boarders. To this arrangement she had given her These circumstances led her to write as fol

consent.

lows:

TO MRS. W., AT G.

Boston, November 16, 1820.

My dear friend. It is with some peculiar emotions that I take up my pen to address you. Yet, though

the circumstances under which I write might naturally occasion me some embarrassment, I do not feel as if I were addressing a stranger. I have thought of you so much since my last conversation with your husband, (whom I am happy now to consider as, in a certain sense, my minister,) that I view you in the light of a new found sister, whom I have not seen indeed, but for whom I feel that tender interest which will ripen into a sincere and permanent attachment when I know you better. Allow me then to dismiss formalities at once, and hasten to the particular object of my letter.

me.

When Mr. W. was here, he proposed to me, that, if he returned, himself and you should reside in my family this winter, instead of commencing house-keeping yourselves. I was a little apprehensive that this proposal originated, chiefly, in a desire to accommodate Now if it was so,—that is, if it will be, not merely no disappointment, but simply less agreeable, to you, to make such an arrangement, I think I cannot consent to it. On the other hand, if, from a consideration of the season of the year, or any other cause, you really prefer boarding with me three or four months, it will be a great gratification to me to receive you, as well as an important convenience and benefit. On some ac- · counts, it is most pleasant to keep house. But if you conclude not to do so till spring, it will be

my endea

vour to render your stay with me as agreeable as I can. I feel that you will have many faults to overlook in me and mine. But as our friendships, in this world, do not, or should not, depend on our finding the objects of them without faults, I shall expect that even my faults will give me some additional claim upon your sympathy and affection. And the consciousness that much must be forgiven, will lead us to forgive much, will it not? If so, how tender should my judgment of others be?

If being called, for a number of years, to experience

an almost constant succession of outward vicissitudes and trials, and if being exercised, through life, with extreme mental sufferings, have any tendency to soften the character, and to increase in the soul the exercise of that benevolence which leads it to weep with them that weep, and enables it to rejoice in every accession to the general happiness which is enjoyed in this valley of tears; it has been my own fault if I have derived no benefit from having so long lived under the influence of such circumstances. And if a constant sense of dependance on God, not only for the outward blessings we need, but for the capacity to enjoy and improve them,—a sense of dependance resulting from a peculiar conformation of mind, which renders it less able to bear or to do any thing of itself, than is common,-has a tendency to produce a kind and charitable habit of regarding the weaknesses of others; I am the person, of all persons, on whose heart and lips should be written the law of kindness. All this I have said, not from the pure love of talking about self, but to show you that I am prepared to love you, to rejoice in your happiness, to appreciate your trials, to feel for your sorrows, and to find happiness in affording you any advice or assistance, which, in my poor measure, I am able to afford. Believe that I have already begun to anticipate the time of your coming with many pleasant emotions, as the period which shall give to me a sister and a friend, one whose situation will awaken in my bosom some new interests and sympathies, and one whose establishment here will add another to the many reasons already existing, why I should prefer Boston as my residence to any other part of this "dim speck which men call earth."

With respect to our future intercourse, my sister, allow me to say, it depends on ourselves whether it shall be a blessing or not. The connection in this

world which is soon to be formed betwixt us, and which will be, in some respects, a peculiar one, may be a source of great mutual comfort to us. It may also, for reasons which will at once present themselves to your mind, be the means of advancing our characters to a higher elevation of moral excellence than they would otherwise have ever attained. And if this should be the case, (and, oh, heaven grant that it may!) how much we shall love each other on earth, how much we shall love each other in heaven!

My dear Mrs. W., may I be permitted to say,—and I would say it with deep humility, as one anxious to make the application to myself,-that our future usefulness and happiness depend much upon our adoption, and practical maintenance, of one simple Christian principle, viz. a supreme desire that, in all we do, God should be glorified. Living under the influence of this principle, we shall have no jealousies, no rivalships. I shall rejoice in the attention you receive, in the influence you obtain, in the good you accomplish; and you will reciprocate these feelings. This blessed principle will prevent our setting up any personal interests in opposition to those of our Master. We shall rejoice that God is glorified, whether he is pleased to make use of our feeble services or not. Just in proportion as we place our happiness here, it will be placed beyond the reach of temporal vicissitudes, and the disquieting interferences of pride and selfishness.

And now, my beloved friends, farewell. I commend you to the grace of our unchangeable, covenantkeeping God. May he guide and bless you. May his loving-kindness sweeten and sanctify your union, and make it a blessing to you both for many years on earth, if such be his righteous purpose concerning you. And may we be mutual helpers, and comforters, and quickeners of each other in our pilgrimage through the wil

dernesss of this world. And may our affection for each other here, be chastened and stengthened by the precious hope of its receiving its final consummation in heaven.

November 22. To-morrow will be Thanksgiving. I shall have to keep the festival "with bitter herbs." But I have been thinking to-day of the terms of the New-Covenant, which I desire to lay hold of for myself and my children. Now what are they? Temporal ease and prosperity? "I will bring you into the wilderness, and there will I plead with you face to face." "I will cause you to pass under the rod, and I will bring you into the bond of the covenant." "I will correct thee in measure, and will not leave thee altogether unpunished." "If his children forsake my law, and walk not in my judgments; if they break my statutes, and keep not my commandments; then will I visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with stripes. Nevertheless my loving-kindness will I not utterly take from him, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail; my covenant will I not break, nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips." The whole history of the Church corroborates this testimony. The promise is, I will not leave thee altogether unpunished." Have I not chosen this covenant as my portion, and the portion of my children, fully understanding that these were its terms? And do I repent of my choice? No. I heartily renew my desire to suffer affliction, if need be, with the people of God, rather than be left to take up with the pleasures of sin as my portion. Oh, to be brought more entirely into the bond of the covenant! Oh, for grace to lay hold on this covenant, for my children, as all my salvation and all my desire in their behalf!

23. This has not been a dull day. The work of