sors, why should we not take to ourselves the comfort here offered for our acceptance? Why should we not make use of the privilege here consigned over to our enjoyment, and claim the legacy, in these clauses of our dying Master's testament, most evidently bequeathed to our souls? To found our expectations on this bottom, will be a means both of humbling and exalting us; of filling us with shame, and filling us with hope; that we may abhor ourselves, and yet rejoice in God our Saviour. Many build their hopes upon their religious duties and righteous deeds: such a building must unavoidably be shaken by every temptation, and sapped by every working of corruption. These are in no wise the foundation, but evidences rather that we are fixed on it. For my part, when I can exercise a grace, or perform a duty, that is debased by no imperfection, mingled with no corruption, then I will trust on selfrighteousness. But till then, I must be very unreasonable if I do not rely on my illustrious Surety; fly to the ark of his wounds, and make mention of his righteousness only. This is all-sufficient; and never, never faileth those that trust in it.

You are not ignorant of my sentiments with regard to our dissenting brethren. Are we not all devoted to the same supreme Lord? Do we not all rely on the merits of the same glorious Redeemer? By professing the same faith, the same doctrine which is according to godliness, we are incorporated into the same mystical body. And how strange, how unnatural would it be, if the head should be averse to the breast, or the hands inveterately prejudiced against the feet, only because the one is habited somewhat differently from the other? Though I am steady in my attachment to the established church, I would have a right hand of fellowship, and a heart of love, ever ready, ever open, for all the upright evangelical dissenters. I thank you for the news you sent; it is impossible for me to pay in kind. Make my most respectful compliments ac

ceptable to worthy Mr. I had agreed to wait upon him when I was in town; but my brother's illness growing worse, and soon proving fatal, deprived me of this pleasure, and sent me home to attend his corpse with sorrow to the grave. I hope you will be pleased with Archbishop Leighton's works; and I heartily pray, that they may be abundantly blessed to both our souls. I sincerely commiserate poor Miss D--'s case. Despair is indeed a fiery dart of the devil; but, blessed be Sovereign Goodness, there is a remedy against this malady. The Israelites, though wounded by the deadly serpents, looked to the brazen type hung upon the pole, and found a certain cure. And though we are stung by a sense of guilt, and almost perishing in extreme despondency, yet let us turn our eye to him who was lifted up on the cross, and we shall be whole. He who was gashed with wounds, and covered with blood, who was pierced with irons, and stabbed to the heart; he is our medicine, our recovery, our life. By his stripes we are healed. Oh! let us look unto him from the depths of distress, as well as from the ends of the earth, look unto him and be saved. My paper admonishes me to have done; but I cannot conclude without assuring you, that I love you most affectionately; so long as life and understanding last, shall pray for you among my choicest friends; and hope, when this transitory scene of things is at an end, to be, in bonds of nobler friendship and tenderer endearment, ever, ever yours, &c.

LETTER LVI.

Weston-Favell, June 3. 1749. So, my dear Sir, the physicians upon the whole have given your friend no great hopes of a cure. The apothecary's shop, the ass's dugs, and the mineral waters may, they apprehend, palliate the disorder; but that even a palliation, it seems, is not to be expected, without keeping the mind quiet and cheerful:

and that this important end may most effectually be answered, the doctors have recommended diversions, travelling, and company; giving a caution, at the same time, I am told, against retirement, so much praying, and poring over religious books.

Now, if cheerfulness be the grand, the fundamental, the only recipe adequate even to the mitigation of this disease, I may venture to assert, that such recipe is to be found (possibly what I declare may be wondered at, but I aver it is to be found) in the Bible. It may be seen wrote at length, and it well deserves consideration, in Prov. xvii. 22. "A merry heart doth good like a medicine, but a broken spirit drieth the bones."

That a satisfied, a serene, and cheerful state of mind, will in this case be more beneficial than all manner of restoratives for decayed nature, or cordials for the sinking spirits, I can easily believe; nay, I am farther convinced, that whatever can be contrived by the most solicitous care of the physicians, will probably be rendered ineffectual, without this prime preparative, this most sovereign prescript. It is indispensably necessary, that all possible endeavours should be exerted to have the thoughts calm, placid, and easy. Every thing must be sacrificed to this most desirable end. Nothing can be more pernicious, in such circumstances, than the contrary situation of mind. But here will arise a question, How this inward tranquillity may most easily be attained, and most surely established? By company, by travelling, by diversions, the doctors and some others will reply. -I am far, very far from being an enemy to diversions, when properly chosen, and used with moderation. Travelling may beguile the sense of woe, and palliate for a while the malady. Company, when cheerful and improving, is an excellent source of comfort; when innocent only and entertaining, is of some present service, and ought to be allowed (at intervals) admittance. But these will no more reach the case now under consideration, are no more able

to create a settled tranquillity in the breast, than the gentle motions of a fan are sufficient to impel a windbound fleet. If they engross our time, and leave no leisure for nobler methods of consolation, they will certainly prove like heavy lowering clouds, and, instead of diffusing, will intercept the rays of heartfelt satisfaction. But what, may it be asked, would I substitute instead of these expedients? I would beg leave (unpolite as it may seem, and in a manner exploded) to recommend prayer to God, and the daily reading of the Scriptures. If kind and friendly conversation be judged proper, why should prayer be disapproved? Prayer is an humble, but delightful intercourse, with the best, the greatest, the everlasting Friend. And has any earthly friend exercised more loving-kindness? is any earthly friend more able to administer relief, than the blessed God? If there be such friends, let them be our whole dependance, and let omnipotent Goodness be secluded from any regard.

God has so loved us, that he gave his own Son, dearer to himself than angels, and all worlds, to die for our salvation. Rather than we should perish for ever, he sent his infinitely glorious Son to take upon him our nature, and suffer the unknown agonies of crucifixion. To shew his readiness to succour us in any distress, he styles himself the Father of mercies, and God (not of some, but) of all comfort, 2 Cor. i. 3. And where is the person from whom we may more reasonably expect to receive tender and compassionate succours, than from this all-gracious God? Is he not as powerful as he is gracious? What Job said of his companions, is in a degree true of every human aid,-Impotent and miserable comforters are ye all. But the God of heaven is able to give songs in the night of distress; to make the bones that sorrow and anguish have broken, to rejoice. If he speak peace, who shall cause disquietude, or what shall destroy our tranquillity? Indeed, if we apply for comfort to any thing lower than heaven, or by

any such means as exclude frequent prayer, we neglect the fountain of living waters, and hew to ourselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water. The Scriptures (and believe me, as I speak from daily experience) are a treasury of comfort. One who had drank deep of the cup of sorrow declares, that they rejoice the heart; and that for his own part, if his delight had not been in the divine law, he should have perished in his trouble; (see Bible, Psal. cxix. 92.) These things, says the favourite disciple, write we unto you (not barely that you may have joy, but) that your joy may be full, John xv. 11. And St Paul adds, that whatever things are written by the Spirit of inspiration, are written for our benefit; that we, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, might have hope, Rom. xv. 4.; that blessed hope of eternal life, which is an anchor to the soul in all the storms of adversity; which is the oil of gladness, swimming above all the waves of affliction. By having recourse to diversions and amusements, in preference to the strong consolations suggested in the Bible, we act as injudiciously, we shall be deceived as certainly, as if, amidst the sultry heats of summer, we should seek cooling refreshment from a painted tree, and shun the embowering shady covert of a real grove.

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If we are afflicted, the Scriptures acquaint us, that our afflictions are the chastisements of a Father, not the scourges of an enemy. They give us assurance, that the all-disposing Providence will not suffer us to be afflicted above what we are able to bear; (see 1 Cor. x. 13.); that they shall turn to our good, and bring forth the peaceable fruits of righteousness; that they are light, are only for a moment, and yet shall work out for us a weight, an eternal weight of glory. Can all the volumes of heathen morality suggest, or all the recreations of the world afford, such rational and solid consolation? Without these consolations, afflictions will be like a latent sore, smarting and rankling in the heart; will produce discon