spiritual merchants who are represented as trading in the souls of men? I clearly discerned that the leading subject of that book is the rise and fall of an antichristian society, which should be permitted for a limited time to persecute the faithful followers of Jesus. These are represented as a woman preserved by the power of God in the wilderness from the devil, who pursues her with all the malice and venom of a dragon, and endeavours to destroy her and her seed by a flood of persecutions.

My son wishes to be made happy in his dear Miranda. To this I have no other objection than the recent death of a sister for whom he had the most tender affection, and whom in disposition, as well as in person, he very much resembles. She had a gentle behaviour, a winning softness, a gravity without moroseness, and a modesty without excessive timidity, How should I enlarge, if I were to describe the beauties of her person and of her mind! but I must forbear; the remembrance is too distressing. I must endeavour to console myself with the consideration, that she has passed the swellings of Jordan, and has mingled with kindred spirits to be for ever with the Lord.

God only knows how long I may continue in this vale of tears. I am exceedingly oppressed with lowness of spirits; I sigh frequently, sleep little, feel myself sinking, notwithstanding I have a good appetite, and am terrified as it were at my own shadow. A sudden rapping at the door, the receipt of a letter, or almost any trifling thing, makes me tremble and feel unhappy. The mercy of God manifested in Christ, and his promises to guilty sinners who lie under the shadow of his wings, are almost my only consolation and that is sometimes impeded by my dreading, lest after all I should be like those hearers who received the seed into stony places or among thorns.

You will be glad to hear, Madam, that Signior Albino, whom you have often seen at Mr. Barnwell's is the reverse of what he was. He is I trust a sincere Christian. What a change in my family! The death of my daughter has through the divine mercy been a blessing to us all, as I doubt not it has been to herself also.

Mr. Charles Clifford has just been here. What a dif ference has divine grace made between him and his father!

He is in mourning for my child, for whom he had the most sincere affection. He gave me an account of all the places at which he had inquired after her. He heard nothing of her. I feel for him almost the affection of a parent, and have entreated him to let us have as much of his company as he can. His father, with Mr. and Mrs. Barnwell, and Mr. and Mrs. Law, are to dine with me this day fortnight, and he promises to accompany them. It will be your niece's birthday: I do not know what may then take place.

I am, with the sincerest esteem,

Dear Madam, your friend, and

Most obedient servant,

JAMES NEVILLE.

LETTER LVII.

From Mrs. Worthington to Mr. Neville.

DEAR SIR,

I RECEIVED your obliging letter, and rejoice with you that in great mercy you are brought into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.

I pray for you that you may not be swallowed up with overmuch sorrow. Your daughter had very few equals in any respect: it is no wonder therefore, you regret the loss of her. But remember that Christianity was her chief excellence. It was that which ennobled her nature, and raised it to immortality. The dissolution, therefore, of her mortal frame, has ushered her into the presence of her Lord, where she is now like him, and beholds him without a cloud between.

You undoubtedly were her persecutor, though you meant not so to be. And where can an unregenerate person be found that is a friend to the children of God as such? Your being an enemy therefore to your own dutiful child,

did not prove you to be a greater sinner than unregenerate men in common are. A gracious God has made you a monument of his mercy, in order that you may be sensible of his goodness both in time and eternity. And do you think she does not view herself as a monument of mercy likewise? Yes, Sir, all the redeemed so consider themselves on one account or another.

That you have so just a view of the Revelation much pleases me. The accomplishment of the prophecies in the rise of antichrist, who like Babylon of old has been a thorn in the sides of the people of God, has abundantly proved the truth of Christianity; and his fall, which has already commenced, is a proof of the same truth, which proof, like Ezekiel's river, is growing broader and deeper every day.

I am sorry to hear that you are so ill. The disorder which you have described is a frequent appendant to riches, and makes the lord of ten thousand acres more miserable than the poorest of his vassals. Nervous complaints are not generally the portion of the poor. If the rich would be free from this dreadful malady, they must become poor, either in reality or artificially. The person whose labour or exercise does not bear a pretty exact proportion to his food, will be a valetudinarian in some form or other: and although a good constitution may put off the evil day, yet it must come; and nothing hastens its approach so much as trouble. Trouble affects the nerves of the stomach, and brings on indigestion, accompanied with sinking, lowness of spirits, and mental horrors more dreadful than all the rest. To many persons thus afflicted it would be a mercy to be stripped of their substance, in order that that moderation and labour might ensue which their present opulence prevents. The great art of preserving health consists in proportioning the food to the power of digestion. If this be not attended to, the stone, the dropsy, the jaundice, or a complication of disorders will succeed; and very frequently a train of nervous symptoms, which have long been the opprobrium of medicine.

One considerable bar in the way of the cure of persons afflicted with nervous diseases is, that in general they think themselves the most abstemious people living. Now with

what decency can they be exhorted to abridge themselves of half their habitual food, who think they eat too little already?

Cornaro, the noble Venetian, the account of whom you possibly may not have seen, had, by his excesses, brought himself to the borders of the grave before he was forty years of age. He then formed a resolution to be temperate. He began with confining himself to twelve ounces of solid food, and a pint of wine, in twenty-four hours. Thus he continued to live for a great number of years: but he was obliged, many years before his death, gradually to lessen the quantity, until he found the yolk of an egg sufficient for a day. During all this time he enjoyed perfect health, together with a fine flow of spirits, which continued to the last hour, and almost to the last minute of his life. At upwards of a hundred he laid his head back in his chair, and expired without a groan, and apparently without pain.

After he had entered upon this temperate course, an estate was unjustly wrested from him and his relations. This broke the heart of some of them, while he was very little affected by it.

A

Many of the servants of God who have not feared to be dead, have dreaded dying, and that not without reason, since the generality of mankind die a violent death. reasonable expectation of leaving this world by slow degrees, without pain or sickness, and with a serene resignation to the divine will, is worth all that self-denial which temperance demands.

There are thousands of persons who are considered by themselves and others as very temperate, who yet eat more than they can digest. Let me therefore entreat you, Sir, to diminish the quantity of your food a little, and, if you find yourself better, then to diminish it a little more, till you find by experience that you eat no more than nature requires.

Too great variety of food at one meal is in this respect very injurious. After a person has eaten to loathing, a new dish will procure him a fresh appetite, and every ad◄ ditional dish will be an additional incentive to gluttony.

Different constitutions require different kinds of food. You must find out by experience what best agrees with your own. I cannot but think that too great a proportion of animal food is eaten in this kingdom; and also that there are many persons who ought not to eat any solid animal food, and who, if they were to live entirely on soups and a vegetable diet, would gain that health which they in vain seek for from medicine.

Permit me to add a word or two more. Use a great deal of exercise in the open air. Let your suppers be very early, and very light. After evening family worship let Miss Neville or my niece play a psalm tune for a quarter of an hour on your organ, and let the rest of the family accompany it with their voices, singing a psalm or hymn, from Dr. Watt's Psalms and Hymns, or from Dr. Rippon's Selection, each person having a book. And to conclude, retire to rest early, and rise early.

I cannot but think that a compliance with these directions, accompanied with that serenity of mind which flows from a sense of the pardon of sin, from communion with God, and from a good conscience, would greatly alleviate, if not entirely remove your disorder.

I rejoice to hear of the change in Signior Albino. How rough and unpolished by nature are the stones which God uses in building his spiritual temple. Bears and lions change their natures, agreeably to the beautiful description by Isaiah, and become proper companions for the laborious ox and the harmless sheep.

I thank you, Sir, for your kind invitation to Thornton Abbey. I hope some time to have the pleasure of seeing a family in whose happiness I am so much interested, but cannot make it convenient to myself at present.

I also thank you and your family for the very great kindness shown to my niece. You think she had formerly too much vivacity. You kindly give it the best name it would bear: you might more properly have called it pertness. Poor girl! her mother died when she was young; and it is not every father that knows how to educate his children as he ought. Justice obliges me to say in her behalf, that she had a pliant temper, and might have been bent to almost any thing. But where parents cherish their chil