rents, to make you estimate character, not by riches, nor fashionable appearance, but by intrinsic moral worth; and I am persuaded that you must now feel, that if Providence has given you advantages of wealth and education, above the plainest rustic, it is a ground of humility, in as much as it lays you under the greater obligations. Where "much is given," oh, never forget it! "much will be required." On this principle, are you not bound to be humble, benevolent, condescending?

In closing this letter, I must say to you as I lately said to a youth in my parish, who is about making a public profession of her faith in Christ: "I hope you will not be satisfied with being half a Christian." So, my young friend, I would exhort you to aim high. It is a day to elevate the standard of piety. We want more Newels, and Huntingtons, and Ramsays, and Smelts. These were devoted souls. It was not half-way work with them. Religion was "all in all." For this they lived-they suffered and, supported by its consolations, they died. They have left a bright track for you to follow. Tread closely in their steps; and then, though you share in their sufferings, you shall also inherit, with them, the "crown of glory."

LETTER II.

AMONG the first temptations which you will probably experience, will be an effort, on the part of your spiritual enemies, to seduce you back to the pleasures of the world. Sometimes it will be a direct and powerful attack. The ways of religion will be represented as difficult, whilst those of worldly pleasure will be strewed with flowers. 66 What," the tempter will exclaim, "shall one so young, so susceptible of enjoyment from all the varied delights of sense-one who has it in her power to command almost any imaginable happiness-shall she put on the grave aspect of piety, and thus debar herself from every innocent pleasure? Look abroad, see thy young companions, how their hearts beat with rapture, as they float amid the circles of beauty and of fashion. Why shouldst thou become a sober religionist, when thou art ripening for so much bliss ?" In such false and flattering colours, will the tempter array the world. Knowing that vanity is one of the strongest principles of our depraved nature, he will constantly, and often successfully, appeal to it. His flatteries will respect your person, your accomplishments,

your fortune. He will suggest that with such advantages, the world must pay you homage, and become a sort of perpetual paradise.

Had you, my young friend, been one of pleasure's gay votaries, as I have been, he could not, and probably he would not, thus address you. I could say, from experience-thou seducing spirit, what thou sayest is false. Have I not mingled in the festival? Have I not courted pleasure in the brilliant assembly, and the crowded theatre, where beauty and wealth have poured around their shining and fascinating attractions? And what did I ever gain? A momentary rapture, I admit; an exhilaration of spirits, and a temporary oblivion of my cares. But this was all. And even these transitory joys were not unalloyed. Jealousy, and envy, and hatred, and disappointment, would occasionally let fall the bitter drop, as the cup was passing to the lip; and satiety, disgust, and self-loathing, would succeed. But conscience was more powerful than all. What restless hours of wakeful solicitude, what anticipated wrath, what vain resolutions, what unavailing regrets! And shall the tempter tell me, that the pleasures of the world are worthy to be preferred to the calm delight of communion with God, and the high enjoyments of

religion? "He was a liar from the beginning," and when, my young Christian friend, he assaults you with such suggestions, or when, through his emissaries in human form, he would seduce you from your allegiance, recollect his character, resist his suggestions-and, according to the promise, "he will flee from you."

But it is far more probable, that his insinuations will be almost imperceptible. A direct and powerful attack may throw a Christian on his face, and overwhelm him with agony; but Judah's lion shall appear, and affright the bold adversary. It is when your spiritual enemies are making a gradual advance on your purity and devotedness, that they are most to be dreaded, as most likely to be successful. Now, you are, I trust, conscientious in the discharge of the duty of private devotion. You love to retire from human observation, to commune with God. I would fain believe, that you are never so happy as when thus engaged; that you have a consecrated spot, which you call your Bethel, where the soul daily drinks in the waters of life.

Happy, dear youth, happy will you be, if that Bethel is always thus attractive and interesting. But the great danger is, that it will

be neglected, and perhaps forsaken. You are ready to exclaim, "impossible! I shall never cease to pray. I could sooner dispense with my daily food, than forego the privileges of a throne of grace." This is the language of sincerity, I doubt not. You verily think so; but how little do you know the temptations which surround you, and the deceitfulness of your own heart? You have much to fear.

When called myself from nature's darkness, and made, as I hope, to taste the sweetness of redeeming love, I was of the same opinion. I had waked up in a new world. 'Twas as if the Creator had formed a new being, akin to the happy spirits in heaven, and dropped him on the earth, in the spring time of nature's magnificence and beauty. The foliage seemed greener and fresher than ever. The dew-drops glittered more brilliantly; the sky looked purer; and every thing seemed to shine and wave, in silent but emphatic praise of God, their Creator. My soul beat in happy unison with these silent worshippers, and methought I could never cease to sing and pray. My very being seemed to consist in it. But has it been so ever since? Oh ye hours of anguish, ye days of sensuality-ambition-and folly; ye can say how guilty, how careless, how ungrateful,