much with you in mind, and in a little of that spirit which we may humbly hope still unites us together, under the varied events of life. Various and unexpected indeed they are, and such I must say is my present undertaking to accompa. ny dear Rachel on such an expedition as this: I cannot but feel it serious on many accounts. I have deeply felt leaving home. I believe we shall sometimes have your sympathy, may we not hope your prayers for our preservation.Though the pain of leaving home has been great, yet a feeling of sweet peace has, I think, been permitted to attend us, and I have been, on the whole, quiet and comfortable. And now, my beloved friends, I may from my heart say, Farewell. May we more and more seek that Spirit which can enable us to mourn and rejoice together, and which may lead us continually to commend ourselves and one another unto that grace which can alone build us up, sustain and

comfort us."

earnestly than for you, my dearest brothers, that
in your respective allotments you may so hold
fast that no man may take your crown: and may
you be more and more willing to bear the cross
of our blessed Lord; may it in nothing, little or
great, be a stumbling-block to you. May you,
in all things, suffer his holy will, becoming as
little children, 'learning of Him who was meek
and lowly of heart; thus you will become (and
indeed it is my most comforting hope and belief
for you,) as valiants in his army, as faithful ser-
vants in his most holy church, and you will fi-
nally find in Him 'eternal rest unto your souls.''
In a letter to a Friend in England, about this
time, she says:

"I have felt an earnest desire that thou mayest not be discouraged in the important duty of attending meetings. It appears to me most desirable that we should ever bear in mind for what we go to meeting,-not to seek man nor the help of man, but to seek the Lord, and the help of the Lord: and I can truly say, I am increasingly persuaded of the truth of these words, jour-The Lord is good to those that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him.' How does every fresh experience of life make me desire for those in early life, that they may remember their Creator in the days of their youth! I feel so very sure that they will never have cause to regret any sacrifice made in his service, or for his sake."

In making our selections from this valuable memoir, we here pass over her interesting nal written during her absence from home, and give only a few extracts from her letters, which will bring us to the time when she returned to her own home.-ED.

On hearing of the death of a dear cousin, she writes to her brother J. J. G., Twelfth mo. 26th: "There are few passages in Scripture that have been more animating or comforting to me than the promises in the Revelations to those who overcome: I have dwelt on them with a peculiar interest, and I believe with a renewed desire for us who remain, that we may with more faith, more humility, and more entire and simple obedience, enlist under the banner of the Captain of our salvation, that we may follow Him whithersoever He leadeth us, that we may trust in Him with our whole hearts until we know the victory to be obtained through Him over sin and the world, and over death. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.' It is indeed the prayer of my heart, my dearest Joseph, that thou mayest be encouraged and enabled yet to go on, yet to press forward in every religious, domestic, and public duty, in quietness and humility, 'not slothful in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord.' When the curtain drops, and the scene closes here, how is then every sacrifice in the cause of religion, how is every act of faith and obedience to be prized; how inestimable do they become as evidences of that grace by which alone we are saved! Whilst thus separated from the world and withdrawn from service, and feeling my own poverty and littleness in every way, the desire is still lively for the faithful servants of the Lord, that they may be steadfast and immoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord; and for none do I feel this more

"First-day, Twelfth Month 29th.-Our meeting was quiet and satisfactory. These words were very comforting to me, which I had to express,-Father, I will that those whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory.' Consolation in our separation from so many near and dear to us, and encouragement to us who remain to seek to be partakers of the same promises. How great the importance of having our hearts weaned from all earthly dependencies and excitements! Read a little in Leighton on this subject. Had a sweet walk before dinner on Mount Cennier. The distant views of the mountains, with the sea and town, and the setting sun, were particularly beautiful, and awakened many interesting and affecting associations. Began to read Young's Night Thoughts' through with Elizabeth.

"31st.-Elizabeth very unwell. I sat with her in her room, and read to her portions of Scripture. This evening I felt the solemnity of the close of this year, and an earnest desire for us all, absent and present, that we may begin the next with renewed diligence, running with patience the race that is set before us.' The peasants, in the adjoining garden, were dancing and screaming with apparent ease and low pleasure. It was a contrast to my own feelings. Rachel expressed to me, before we parted for the night, how very solemn she felt the prospect of entering another year with such a mist before it-such uncertainty as to life or death. Looking every

way, the prospect was, she said, serious to her; the continuance of illness, death, or the restoration to life; the latter would be, to her, almost as solemn as the former. It is my sincere desire that, whatever may be the events or the dispensations of the year to her, 'neither life nor death, heights nor depths, nor any other creature,' may 'be able to separate' her from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.' Heard distant shouts and sounds of rejoicing after I was in bed, and also early this morning, the first day of 1817.

"First Month 2nd.-Our meeting this morning was particularly interesting to me. I felt peculiarly drawn to supplicate in spirit for feeling near unity and sympathy with her, desiring that, though the Lord has been pleased to show her great and sore troubles, He may, in his own time, bring her up again as from the depths of the earth; and, if He seeth meet still to lead her as into the wilderness, that He may 'open unto her the door of hope;' that his word may be a light unto her path, and a guide to her feet; and for us all, in this new year, that He would enable us to do his will, giving us, day by day, our daily bread.

:

"3rd.-Our invalids very poorly I felt unable to administer much comfort to them.

"5th.-With E. to visit the poor. Rachel and I afterwards read Barrow's Sermon on submission, then had a pleasant excursion by myself: enjoyed the company of two sweet innocentlooking girls who sat beside me, but we could only communicate by signs.* I was amused with the people, and they with me. Afterwards I visited the mother of a large family."

her beloved sister. E. J. Fry, occupied a large space in the sphere of her affections. She not unfrequently addressed them by letters suited to their youthful tastes, yet calculated to imbue their minds with a disinterested concern for the happiness of others, as well as with a reverence of their Almighty Creator. It was her practice to write to the two elder ones of that interesting family in the French language, thus encouraging them in their study of it. From Nice she sent to them the following (translated) :

First Month, 1817.

My dear Nieces, K. and R. F.,-We are much pleased with Nice. It is an agreeable town, situated on the sea, and surrounded by high mountains. Some of them have their summits always covered with snow, and sometimes with clouds; but the weather has been so fine here since we came, that the sky is almost always clear. Oh, how charmed you would be with this country! When I walk about alone I often think of you, my dear nieces, and I wish much to have you for my companions in my walk, because you would have great pleasure in traversing the country with me, and in admiring the fine vines that are seen from the roads around our dwelling. The poor people, also, would interest you much-their language, their dress, and their manners, are very different from those of the poor in our country. Sometimes I visit them in their houses, and often find them occupied in cultivating their gardens. I am obliged to make myself understood by signs, which sometimes serve me for a French word, and sometimes for an Italian word; because they speak, in this part, a mixture of these two lanThe reader, in mentally accompanying Priscilla guages. In the town and its environs we someGurney in her daily pursuits, can scarcely fail to times find a crowd of beggars, and the peasants be impressed with her constant piety, her unva- in the country have also the habit of begging. rying spirit of warm Christian benevolence, draw- | We do not often give them money, but we have ing her into sympathy with every fellow-crea- purchased for them a supply of soup, which is She appeared never to live for herself, or distributed every day in the town, at the gate of to seek personal gratification; for, though she an establishment called the Hospice. It is a derived sweet enjoyment from beholding the beau- charitable institution for poor girls who are ties of the external creation, we may perceive orphans. Our friend, the Abbé de Cesolé, has that an aspiration after the sensible influence of the direction of it. We have visited this house, the love of God was ever the pervading principle and have remarked with pleasure that it is well in her soul. This Divine love led her to desire conducted, and the girls have an appearance of to relieve the necessities, and to soothe the sor- good health and happiness. They are to come rows, of all the children of want and affliction, and make a visit to us in the garden, and have and so enlarged her heart that it knew no limita- cakes and fruit. They often accompany the tions from diversity of sect; not being restrained Abbé (to whom they give the name of Father) even by the chilling effect of spiritual darkness, to funerals. There are not any nuns at Nice. or of the mists of gloomy superstition. She was Since the Revolution several convents have been always attracted towards the young; but her abandoned. There are some monks in the contender interest was, as might be expected, es- vents of Barthélémi and Cennier who have been pecially excited in reference to the welfare of long here. One of these monks comes every her nearest connexions: of these, the children of week to our house to make la quete (a gather*Nice being an Italian city, many of the lowering,) for the rules of their order oblige them to classes in the district beyond it cannot converse in subsist on charity. One of them enters a house, the French language. They speak a mixture of French and asks for bread and oil and other things necessary for them; they rarely eat meat, and they

ture.

and Italian.

Selected and furnished for publication in the Intelligencer.

INDIVIDUAL INFLUENCE.

"A certain nobleman went into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return. And he called his ten servants, and delivered them ten pounds, and said unto them, Occupy till I come," &c. Luke, ch. xix.

common position of human affairs which is usually characterized by the expression of "things going cross," comes, in the potent dominion of selfishness, to scatter the withering blight of an unhappy temper through the whole habitation! Alas! to deaden and destroy any thing that is tender, and kind, and lovely in our fellow creatures, can be no light offence against a God whose

There is scarcely any sentiment more frequently enforced in Holy Writ than the accountabil-nature and whose name is Love! ity of man. The consideration of the parable of the talents which exhibits rewards as the meed of obedience, stimulates to the discharge of our relative duties towards God and our fellow-creatures, and furnishes us ground for many solemn and affecting apprehensions of what may be the consequences of misusing our allotted day of probation. Nothing, therefore, can be more needful for the man who desires to ensure to himself that which will endure when all things are passing away, than to ascertain with precision the use he is now making of the talents entrusted to his

care.,

Most persons, it is to be feared, live with scarcely any other definite purpose than to enjoy as much, and suffer as little as possible; for the love of ease and indulgence is as congenial to the fleshly will of man, as it is to the nature of any other animal. But, even in minds thus darkened and debased, there exists a spark of something pure and heavenly, which, under the most oppressive weight of worldliness that can be laid upon it, is never wholly extinguished. It lives, though it be in the grave; and there is a voice appointed to arouse it, which ever and anon exclaims, "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."

Heads of families sometimes relate with an apparent delight in the presence of their chil dren and servants, entertaining stories, or remarkable anecdotes, in which a disregard for truth or honesty forms a chief feature. Perhaps it may be the contrivance of some clever sharper to elude justice; some intriguing politician to accomplish his purpose; or some needy impostor to succeed in passing for an honest person. Now such a sort of discourse may seem of no importance; but when it is considered how often the worldly interests of dependants, and the heedless pursuits of children and young people, place them in circumstances in which the tendency often is to violate the truth, in order to hide a fault, or to secure a present pleasure, it cannot be made a question, but that every tender and precious check which the secret witness of the Lord may make in their consciences, is in imminent hazard of being crushed and set aside, by the polluting recollection of instances in which they have known their seniors, and those who were placed in authority over them, to treat acts of deceit and falsehood as a light and trivial thing.

If anecdotes like those alluded to should be narrated in our presence, and we feel as though it were a thing almost impossible for us to damp the hilarity of a cheerful party by words of reFew persons are in any degree aware of the proof, when we believe no kind of harm is inimmense importance of their own individual ex- tended; let us remember that if we are not willample to those who are immediately and inti- ing to give utterance to the language of disapmately brought into contact therewith; for few probation, there is, in the reproof which a calm, can calculate upon the powerful effects of small meek, sustained silence inflicts, perhaps, a more causes, which are of uniform and constant recur- effectual service rendered to the cause of truth rence. How few, for instance, consider the and propriety, than if we were to harangue upon baneful influence which the giving way to ill- the subject for an hour. There is a serene digtemper diffuses over the circle of their family nity in the reprimand of silence, which brings and friends! In such a wilderness of thorns over an offending spirit something of the holiness and briars as this world, where we can scarcely and majesty of God, who works all his glorious touch, much less venture to grasp any object wonders, in nature and in grace, with the imwithout now and then being wounded, how need-pressive solemnity of silence. In silence, He ful is it to be possessed of that heavenly principle, which, like the balm of Gilead spoken of by the prophet, shall drop its holy unction into the corroding irritation of the fallen nature, turning its poison into the dew of Hermon, "even the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion," and from the very bosom of distress and disappointment, eliciting a sweetness which breathes the atmosphere of heaven upon all around it!

But, oh! how different is the case when the leading person in a family, be it father, mother, humored son or daughter, disturbed by that

meets the soul; in silence, He penetrates the conscience; in silence, He spreads before the guilty their accumulated wrongs against Him. Hence it is that scarcely any species of correction or instruction is so totally repugnant to the carnal mind as that which is accompanied with the dowu-breaking, flesh-crucifying power of silence; the felt consciousness of which repugnance occasions it to be but seldom resorted to, in appealing to the hearts and consciences of those with whom we have to deal, in the character of monitors or reprovers. It therefore often