e that the worthy woman
with whom she lived was 'both mother and friend to her.' But the country
was gloomy in the winter, and the spirit of unrest took possession of
her. She went to Philadelphia and plunged into scenes of vice for a week
or two; but she quickly repented, and was rescued by her friends. I have
seldom seen Friend Hopper so deeply pained as he was by this retrograde
step in one whom he had rejoiced over, "as a brand plucked from the
burning." After awhile, he addressed a letter to her, in which he says:
"I should have written to thee before, but I have been at a loss what to
say. I have cared for thee, as if thou hadst been my own child. Little
did I think thou wouldst ever disgrace thyself, and distress me, by
associating with the most vile. Thou wert wonderfully snatched from a
sink of pollution. I hoped thou wouldst appreciate the favor, and take a
fresh start in life, determined to do well. Better, far better, for thee
to have lingered out a wretched existence in Bloomingdale Asylum, than
to continue in such a course as that thou entered upon in Philadelphia.
My heart is pained while I write. Indeed, thou art seldom out of my
mind. Most earnestly, and affectionately, I beseech thee to change thy
course. Restrain evil thoughts and banish them from thee. Try to keep
thy mind quiet, and stayed upon thy Heavenly Father. He has done much
for thee. He has followed thee in all thy wanderings. Ask him to forgive
thy iniquity, and he will have mercy on thee. Thou mayest yet be happy
thyself, and make those happy who have taken a deep interest in thy
welfare. But if thou art determined to pursue evil courses, after all
that has been done for thee, let me tell thee thy days will be brief and
full of trouble; and I doubt not thou wilt end them within the walls of
a prison. I hope better things of thee. If thou doest well, it will
afford encouragement to assist others; but if thy conduct is bad, it may
be the means of prolonging the sufferings of many others. I am still thy
friend, and disposed to do all I can for thee."

In her answer, she says: "Oh, frail woman! No steps can be recalled. It
is all in the future to make amends for the past. After all the good
counsel some receive, they return to habits of vice. They repent when it
is too late. How true it is that virtue has its reward, and vice its
punishment. I know that the way of transgressors is hard. If I only had
a few years of my life to live over again, h