ment both of moral and literary
pursuits. May I improve in both; but it is far easier for us to
perceive where others should reform, than to observe and correct
our own imperfections, while perhaps our failings are completely
disgusting in the sight of others. I find it very difficult leaving
off old habits so as to have a vacuum for the formation of those
which are new and more advantageous.

My letter will be short this week and I can assign no other cause
than that my ideas do not freely flow. The difference in weather is
quite material between this and our northern clime. Snow commenced
falling about 12 o'clock to-day and continued till evening; but,
Father, it was not such a storm as the one in which we travelled
during the second day of our journey to the beautiful and
sequestered shades of Hamilton. The cause of my neglecting to write
last week was not the absence of this mind from home, but that it
is obliged to occupy every moment in studies.

A fire in Philadelphia gives her an opportunity for this bit of
description:

I was requested, 5th day evening last, about 7 o'clock, by one of
the scholars, to step out and view the Aurora Borealis, which she
said was extremely brilliant and beautiful. When there I looked
towards the north, but discovered no light, and then to the zenith,
which was indeed very magnificent; "but," said I, "that does not
look like the Aurora, it is more like the light from a fire," and
upon investigation we found it so to be. The light appeared in the
east, we walked in that direction, when we beheld the flames
bursting forth in stupendous grandeur. Not a bell was heard, all
was calm, with the exception of the minds of some of the scholars
whose parents resided in the city. The scene indeed would have been
to the eye extremely pleasing, were it not for the reflection that
some of our fellow-beings were about being deprived of a home, and
perhaps lives also. We learned a few minutes after witnessing this
phenomena that the fire was occasioned by the conflagration of a
large board yard near Market Street Bridge.

After many affectionate messages, she says:

I have not had but one real homesick fit and that was one week from
the night Father left us. I felt then as if I were taking leave of
him again; in fact the tears have come into my eyes as I write t