point out to us the simple, intelligible, consistent, uniform religion of our Lord and Saviour? who shallBut I am silenced by a voice which says: "Shall not the Almighty do what he will with his own? Is it not his prerogative to take and leave, as seemeth him good? He demands the liberty of disposing of his servants, at his own pleasure. Doddridge has laboured abundantly. He has not slept as do others. He has risen to nobler heights than things bolow. He hopes to inherit glory. He has laboured for that, which endures to eternal life; labour, which the more it abounds, the more it exalts and magnifies its object, and the more effectually answers and secures its end. It is yours, to wait and trust; the Almighty's, to dispose and govern. On him be the care of ministers and churches. The vineyard is his and the labourers are his. He sets them to work; and when he pleases, he calls them, and gives them their hire." With these thoughts, my passions subside; my mind is softened and satisfied; I resign you, myself, and all, to God, saying: "Thy will be done !"

We read in the book of God, the word of truth and gospel of our salvation, that as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. The one ruined his posterity by sin; the other raised his seed to immortality. Sin poisons the dart, and inflames the wound of death; but Jesus Christ redeems us from its power. See thou Christian minister, thou faithful servant of God, and friend of my bosom, see the important period, when the surprising signs, and deseending inhabitants of Heaven, proclaim the second coming of our divine Saviour! The heavens open, and disclose his radient glory! Hear the awakening trump! See, the dead in Christ arise glorious and immortal; leave corruption, weakness, and dishonour behind them; behold their Lord seated on his throne of judgment, attended and surrounded by the

ministers of his power, and shining in all the fulness of celestial glory; and not only behold, but share, his victory and lustre, partake of his image and influence! And see, the demolished fabric is reared again, stately and ornamented, illustrious and permanent, to demonstate how entirely death in vanquished, and all its ruins are repaired. What was once the prey of worms, is now a companion of angels. And when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal, immortality, every eye shall be fastened on the mighty Conqueror, and every voice and harp be tuned to songs of praise. "O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave, where is thy victory?"-Yes, Doddridge, it is so: the fruit of our Redeemer's sufferings and victory, is the entire and eternal destruction of sin and death. And is it not a glorious destruction? a most blessed ruin? No enemies so formidable, but they are vanquished and disarmed; no chains so heavy and galling, but they are burst asunder; no prison so dark and dismal, but it is pulled down and raised: the unerring dart is blunted and broken. Our Lord is risen! he is the first-fruits of them that slept.

How glad should I be to hear, that God is pleased to prolong your life on earth, to declare these glorious truths, and teach us to improve them! In this, your friends with you, and in every place, join, and make it their common petition to the great Disposer of all events. Use every means you can for the recovery of your health, for the sake of your friends, among whom is

Your faithful and affectionate,
JOHN BARKER.

PART II.

MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.

CHAPTER I.

LETTERS OF LADY RUSSEL.

LETTER I

To Dr. Fitzwilliam.*

Woborne Abbey, Sept. 30, 1683.

I need not tell you, good doctor, how little capable I have been of writing. You will soon find how unfit I am still for it, since my disordered thoughts can offer me no other than such words as express the deepest sorrow, and my mind is confused. But such men as you, and particularly one so much my friend, will, I know, bear with my weakness, and compassionate my distress, as you have already done by your kind letter, and excellent prayer. I endeavour to make the best use I can of both; but I am so unworthy a creature, that though have desires, yet I have no dispositions, for receiving comfort.

You who knew us both, and how we lived, must allow I have just cause to bewail my loss. I know

A clergyman, for whom Lady Russel entertained a great esteem and respect: he had been chaplain to her father.

L

it is common with others to lose a friend; but to have lived with such a one, it may be questioned how few can glory in the like happiness, and, consequently, lament the like loss.-Who can but shrink at such a blow, till by the mighty aids of the Holy Spirit, they let the gift of God, which he has put into their hearts, interpose? But, alas! my understanding is clouded; my faith is weak; and my thoughts are filled with false notions, difficulties, and doubts but this I hope to make the occasion of humiliation, not of sin. I know I have deserved my punishment, and I will be silent under it; but secretly my heart mourns, too sadly I fear, and cannot be comforted, because I have lost the dear companion and sharer of all my joys and sorrows. Can I regret his quitting a less good for a greater? O! if I did steadfastly believe, I could not be dejected. For I will not injure myself by saying, that I offer my mind any inferior consolation to supply my loss. No; I most willingly forsake this world, this vexatious, troublesome world, in which I have no other business, but to rid my soul from sin; secure, by faith and a good conscience, my eternal interests; with patience and courage, bear my eminent misfortunes; and having finished the remnant of the work appointed me on earth, joyfully wait for the heavenly perfection in God's good time, when, by his infinite mercy, I may be accounted worthy to enter into that place of rest, whither he is gone for whom I grieve. From these contemplations must come my best support.

Good doctor, you will think, as you have reason, that I set no bounds, when I give way to my complaints; but I will release you, first fervently asking the continuance of your prayers for

Your afflicted,

But very faithful servant,
RACHEL RUSSEL.

LETTER II.

To Dr. Fitzwilliam.

Woborne Abbey, April 20, 1684.

Believe me, good doctor, I find myself uneasy at reading your short letter of the eighth of April, before I had answered yours of the eleventh of March. I have several times taken a pen in my hand to do it, and I have been prevented by despatching less pleasing business first; and so my time was spent before I came to that which I intended to perform before I laid away the pen.

The future part of my life will not, I expect, pass as I would choose. Sense has been long enough gratified; indeed so long, that I know not how to live by faith yet the pleasant stream that fed it near fourteen years together, being gone, I have no sort of refreshment, but when I can repair to that living Fountain whence all comfort flows. I am undone, irrecoverably so, as to my temporal desires and concerns. Time runs on; and usually wears off some of that sharpness of thought inseparable from my circumstances but I cannot experience such an effect, every week making me more and more sensible of the miserable change in my condition. But the same merciful Hand which has held me up from sinking in extreme calamities, will, I verily believe, do so still, that I faint not to the end in this sharp conflict, nor, by discontent, add sin to my grievous weight of sorrows. You observe, I doubt not, that I let my pen run too eagerly upon this subject: indeed it is very hard for me to restrain it; especially when I am writing to those who pity my distress, and would afford me relief any way in their power. I am glad I have so expressed myself to you, as to induce you to continue the course you have begun with me, by setting before me plainly my duty of every kind.