"I have been sitting many minutes with my pen in my hand and paper before me, trying to bring to myself sufficient resolution to tell you the new and surprising turn which has taken place in my wayward destiny. I have been so long the creature of circumstances that you must be prepared for changes of all kinds in my lot; but I know not how it will strike you when you learn for truth, that in one week from to-morrow I sail for England. I thought that I was entirely willing to go, but as I find myself telling you of it, and think that it is utterly impossible for me to see you again, my heart sinks within me, and I almost shrink from it. In fact, this is the first moment I have realized it. I knew nothing of it until the day before yesterday, when Edward Robbins sent to me, to say that his physicians and friends advised his taking a voyage, and that, if I could go with him, it would decide him to take their advice. I had thought of the subject so much, that I was prepared at once to answer. It is a very desirable thing for me to visit the few relations which I have there, and I could never give up the expectation and endeavor to accomplish it. My dependent state was the only barrier, as I could never go unless under the protection of one of the few male friends from whom I should be willing to receive such an obligation, and it was so unlikely that either of those few would ever think of going, that I had but little hope I should ever realize my wishes. But this proposition at once removed all difficulties. Our families have been so long connected, and Edward himself has been so particularly kind to me through life, and more than ever since I have been without a parent's protection, and is in every respect so exactly calculated to make one feel willing and happy to be under obligation, that I could not but feel that now was the time (if ever) for me to accomplish this great object. Doubts about the sufficiency of my means, and some scruples about my right to employ them in this way, made me hesitate a few hours; but in less than four I decided, with the advice of all whom it was necessary to consult, that it was right to improve the present, as all future opportunities were uncertain. That it cost me a deep inward struggle to make my feelings acquiesce, you will not doubt. The first day I felt like a child. I could not glance even at the reasons which favored my going without sad and overpowering retrospection, and the thought of the uncertainty of the result, the thousand possibilities involved in such a change, almost turned my brain; and yet every one was wondering how I could look so composed and keep so still. It is singular how much little things sometimes concur to aid us. It was Thursday, and I was