and may very soon-Thou shalt die, and not live. The great Mr. Howe has written a long and fine discourse, on "the Vanity of Man:" should we think this necessary? Nor would it be so, were men SOBER; but means must be used to convince drunken men, that they are not only drunken but dying men.

Pray make use of your present leisure for winding up your minds in spirituals. Every thing else (that is not necessary for the pilgrimage) is worse than folly. It is one grand advantage in death, that we shall get clear of these rocks and sands for ever. the mean time, there is ONE rock here, upon which a man may stand and smile.

In

The Lord bless you, my dear creature, and him, with you, who remains, &c. &c.

LETTER XIII.

You cannot think how much I felt in leaving you in that solitary place, so like exile; and though I wish you to stay as long as you feel it necessary for the child, yet I shall be glad to hear that you feel it no longer so. The children are quite well, and our little son has quite forgotten you and me and the whole world, by reason of a new hoop which he trundles without ceasing. It would be well if new trifles and old ones were confined to children of his age.

I got well soon after I got home: but it was not an unprofitable journey to me; for I had time at Chrysal to wind up by reflection. Life is hurried through in business, and I cannot abstract enough for my soul's health. I advise you, when your attention to the child can be remitted, to use your solitude for the same purpose.

The painters finish to-morrow. I never think of repairing the house we have, but it occurs that we

are but covering our coffin, or making a place to die in. Before we shall need another painting, we shall both be of darker hue than the walls we leave. But, perhaps, this is too gloomy a strain to be continued; and, therefore, let me rather say we shall have left a poor clay tenement, too old to repair, for a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.

In short, despair and hope are the fundamentals of Christianity—that is, to despair of keeping or repair-. ing that which MUST FALL, and to hope for that which

WILL SATISFY AND NEVER FAIL.

me.

I am

LETTER XIV.

I SAID to myself, last Thursday, when an insect flew between us, and left a slight sting-l said, "I know when I have rode five miles from town the sting will be gone, and nothing but HONEY remain :" and so it was; and therefore, my dear creature, make yourself quite happy respecting as well as when I left town, and have every reason to believe I shall return to town better than I expected. We shall travel slowly. Mrs. is pretty well. We rode together very pleasantly, as you may suppose: but clouds threatened the horseman; and, therefore, while the CHRISTIAN conversed very excellently on divine things, I often observed the WOMAN anxious about her husband and child. Several new sights and objects make me daily wish you were with me; for you have EYES, and I could show you what you would enjoy. Yet, after all, beautiful scenes and beautiful pictures are all trifles that will not last long. Nothing will last, but what is INTELLIGENT. The finest MUTES upon earth soon become nothing: they are a body, but a DEAD one; they want that, which is the soul of every thing-INTELLIGENCE; and the soul of intelligence is

RELIGION.

I have made many observations about travelling, which you will one day hear. You ought to be satisfied, that I let You into all things in the "CLOSET," that respect myself.

I thank you for your kind letter. I mean to preserve it, and to pray that you may be long preserved to me; for you do not tremble at the idea of losing me,

more than I do in return.

LETTER XV.

MY DEAR LOVE,

I JUST Scribble a line to say, that I am going on in my journey very well. I have also considerable advantage in travelling with a MAN-for a tender, feeble lady could not labour so much. I make him read out ALOUD in the chaise, which he also feels an advantage: so that I travel with Pascal-Adam-Maclaurinand the Bible. Now I say a LADY could not afford this.

But, with all these advantages, I am ready to acknowledge, that the want of YOUR company makes a terrible void. How many tender things have I lost! with, now and then, a good thing, i. e. a bit of oratory, a scrap of literature, a shred of poetry, and a cup of peculiarities. Some of these peculiars do not so well please alone; but, when MIXED UP, they are not unpleasing to my taste. I assure you I often think of you in the mass as a CHARACTER, (and a character you certainly are,) that I am delighted with. For, as in a piece of music, which we excessively admire, there are, now and then, some grunting minors; yet, these, mixed up with sweet returning concords, add greatly to the harmony upon the whole. But don't, from what I say here, put in any more minors than usual-as a little goes a great way!

But now I am so angry at the strain of my mind,

that I will write no more. I am quite surprised at myself to reflect (though I have known myself many years too) that, with a weighty concern on my mind, and upon which my heart has sent up many requests, I should be so sportive and gay. But it is my very nature to be gay, as it is some others to be gloomy; and it brings me into many a snare-and I can only say -The Lord pardon thy servant in this thing!

LETTERS

FROM

MR. CECIL TO HIS SON ISRAEL.

LETTER I.

MY DEAR BOY,

For

I WAS much pleased with your letter to your sister; and indeed it gave great satisfaction to all our family, particularly to your mamma. We rejoice to see you speak so like a man, and to find that you so rightly estimate the value of your situation at school. you are now a bee in a garden: nor can you possibly conceive what advantage you will reap from what you now gather; for though this is not the WHOLE of what you are to learn, it is so essential a part that it will add power and lustre to the rest. I have been turning over a great number of books at different shops, to find one to send to you, but I never met with more disappointment.

I wish you to attend to a correct habit of writing. Thus far respecting literature: but, let me again and again remind you, that, great as that is, both that

and every thing else, are but dung and dross to the excellency of the knowledge of Christ. Upon that, all, for time and eternity, hangs! Pray, therefore, my dear child, to the Holy Spirit, to give you this life and light in your heart. I have sent you a sermon I have published to the children of St. John's. I wish you to read it carefully

LETTER II.

Feb. 1802.

MY DEAR ISRAEL,

at

YOUR mamma received your letter at the time I was She is greatly satisfied that you so tenderly remember what I said to you. The truth is, my dear, that your mind is greatly improved, and we cannot but notice it and rejoice in it; and you may depend upon it we shall not fail to encourage a right disposition, to the utmost of our power. Your attention to me, particularly, has been marked by every one in the family, as well as myself.

:

There is a point you should never lose sight ofthat, when a youth takes ill courses, he begins to be shy of his parents, that is, of his only true and fast friends he secretly forms connexions with broken, if not dangerous, reeds; and often plunges thereby into difficulties and disappointments, that his real friends cannot help him out of. I am rejoiced to see you take the contrary course.

I marked that wise and dutiful confidence, with which you treated me; and that jealousy you had, as to how you stood in my mind. Watch against any thing which may damp and impede this early friendship with your truest friend, and you will prosper. Our family and friends are well, except

who is

daily getting worse; but then what is that to her? She has fought the good fight; and is only waiting a little longer for her crown of glory. See what a