IRI feTC. Browns Exglish Letter Writer 'JJ.JJJJ/H ^V^A *'/c /// PARTICIPLE, of the English Language. 21 PARTICIPLE. A Participle is a part of Speech derived from a Verb, but fometimes it is ufed as a Noun Adjeftive. It is active and paffive, viz. active, loving, hearing, feeing j paflive, loved, heared, taught, ADVERBS. Adverbs .are added to Verbs or words, and are generally ufed to point out fome particular circum- flances, relating either to an action or quality. Thus we fay wifely, lovingly ; and when fet before a Verb, we fay heretofore I taught, yejierday I loved, already I have fought you, &c. PREPOSITION. The word Prepofition is ufed to point out fomething going before the words to which they are applied. Thus we fay by them, to them, from them, with them, viz. Tell me what you want ; that is, afk of me. He fprung from me. Through, under, by, to, from, may be applied to any Verb as Prepofitions. CONJUNCTION. Conjunction is the joining of two or more fentences together, fo as to form a complete period : thus we would fay, / walked out lafl week to fee the gardens at Richmond, where I met with Mrs. Wilfon, who is really an ornament to herfex .« or you and I rode to Winchefler together, but Mr. Wilfon fiaid at home, 1 was at Shrew/bury on the feventhof lafi month, but do not re- member feeing your friend Mr. Johnfon. They were re- buked, because they could not hold their peace. I have done all I could to ferve you, but my endeavours havt not been attended with the defired fuccefs, INTER. 22 A Compendious GRAMMAR INTERJECTION. Interjection implies a flrong exprefiion, a riling from feme affliction in life. Thus we fay, Oh ! Alas ! Good God ! Heavens prt~ ferve me! God help me ! Alas ! what have I been doing ? Ah, wretched man that I am I < In writing a fentence grammatically, the points and flops muft be attended to, otherwise the whole will be little better than nonfenfe. In the Englifh grammar the following points arc commonly ufed in a fentence; A Comma, A Semicolon, £ Markedthus A Colon, A Period, EXAM PLE.S. The books were brought to me, and nothing cart equal the elegance of the binding ; which I would have you mention to Mr. Wilfon : it really does him credit. I have fent the things you ordered, and they came" fafe : but they do not pleafe me : I would have you take notice of thefe to Mr. Wilfon. In Grammar there are three other marks, which may be ufed occafionally, although they are not always neceffary in the fame fentence. The fe points are ; Interrogatio Admiration Parenthefis, Interrogation, ) Admiration, £ Marked thus 11$ EXAMPLE. of the English Language. EXAMPLE. how happy are thole that love the Lord 3 for how can we doubt of his goodnefs ? He loves his crea- .tures. or lather, he delires to make them happy. The great utility of writing grammatically ought much to be encouraged, for we often hear perfons fpeak, and as often read their letters fo improperly icompofed, that they raife a blufh from a friend, and excite laughter from an enemy. EXAMPLES. 1 were going to London. It fhould be read, fpoken, or written, I was going to London, They was going to London. It lhould be, they zvere going to London. A COMPLETE SENTENCE. I will love thee, G God ! thou halt been good ttnto me ; but wilt thou remove my doubts ? The goodnefs of the Divine Being, fhould be conhderexl with reverence ; he is all mercy, "but, except in fome few cafes, we little attend to it. The marks of Admiration and Interrogation may both be ufed as Periods at the end of fentences, and every fentence fhould begin with a capital letter; but •ftill, an Interrogation (?) and Admiration (!) may be ufed in the middle of fentences. A Colon (:) denotes 'fomething wanting to complete the fentence, and therefore it is feldom followed by a capital. When any paffage is quoted from another author, it mufh ftand marked thus; " he fhall not be afraid 41 of evil tidings (fays the Pfalmiil); his heart is fixed, i thing concerning him.; but at laft I met him by acci- dent, itarving for the neceflaries of life, polluted in bis morals, clothed in rags, and diverted of all fenfe of honed £hame\ What could I do ? To difcard him totally might have driven him to more dangerous courfes-than thofc he had left, and perhaps brought him to an untimely end. He had injured me; it was impoflible for him to make restitution; his character was loft; and therefore I propofed to fend him to the Eaft-Indies. With much difficulty I procured for him the place of a writer, and he failed from England two month* ago. Since that time I have been moitly employed in fettling mv books, and with concern I muft tell you, that I muft either call a meeting of my creditors, and give them up what I have, or they muft give me fome fhort time to bring myfelf about, fo as to pay them. Diftreflfed as I am, I am willing to become a day- labourer rather than injure my creditors ; and as you have hitherto been my friend, let me beg your advice how to proceed in this extremity. I wait your anfwer with impatience, and am, Yours, with refpec\ Thomas Johns ok, LETTER XXIII, Tke Merchant' s Anfwer. ■ Dear Si IPerufedyour letter with tears, and I can the more eafily feel for your misfortunes, becaufe I have a fon whofe conduct; has been little better than yours. When I fir ft; entered into bufmefs, I made it my fixed refolution never to diftrefs an honeft man while' I con- fidered him as unfortunate, but not criminal. By dif- penfing with the feveriiy of the law on particular occafions, we often fave fomething for the future ; E'-a and yi LETTERS on and I have often found, that a fingle aft of lenity has preserved an honeft man from ruin, and fecured the property of his creditors. — Acting confident with thole principles, I called a meeting of your creditors, and they, with myfelf, are all unanimous in confent- ing to give you credit three years longer. We are willing to fend you what goods you want, and to> rake only fmall remittances, 'till fuch time as you can extricate yourfelf out of your misfortunes, which I In pe will focn take place. I have written to feverai pei ions in the country in your favour, and you will find the number of your customers enlarged. Take courage, my dear friend, and nothing {hall be want- ing on my part to ferve you. I would have you come to London for a few days, where you will meet with a welcome reception, and then you may give orders for fuch goods as you think will be moft wanted. I am yours, &c. Francis Smith. LETTER XXIV. From a young Gentleman, ichofe. Education had bcth nigteBed in his youth, to a Clergyman^ Reverend Sir, TH E fmall eftate left me by my- uncle has had a different efTecl: on my mind, from what com- monly happens in hmiJar cafes : for inftead of devo- ting my time to fafhionable follies. I am not afhamed to acknowledge (nay. I do it with pleafure) that I have taken lodgings in a private family in Iflington, dividing my time between reading, company, and walking. I have begun the hiftory of England, but I am much at a lofs to know what other fubjefts are proper: for. you know, that my education was much neglected, Sometimes, indeed, I read divinity ; but I know every Occurrence in Life. 53 know not what books to perufe. I am not fond of con- troverfy, and yet I love to be informed concerning the truth. Here, Sir, my mind is bewildered ; and no fooner have I perufed one book, than the next I take in my hand makes me difbelieve every fentiment I embraced before. I often beg of God that he would give me amftance, in directing me to chafe that which is good, and refufe evil ; but this by no means pre- vents me from making ufe of human means, as fcccnd caufes. Under thefc circumftances, 1 have prcfumed tofeek advice from you, reverend Sir, whole extenlive know- ledge and copious reading can only be equalled by your exalted piety. I know that the duties of your ftation require much of your time, and perhaps you do more than you are legally obliged to ; but what fignifies all we do in this world, fo as we are engaged as rational creatures, and as pious Chrifiians; I could wifh to improve myfelf in knowledge without confining my fell as a monk to a cloifler, and to tafte the fweets of conveifation while my rational faculties are making prpgrefs in icience. I fhall not. at pre- fent intrude any further, on your time, but muff beg to hear from you as foon as pollibly you can. In th© mean time, give my refpc&s to your amiable family,- and tell them, that I intend fpending a week or two with them during the fummcr. I have fent by the coach the new eft. pattern of ruffles for your daughter Mils Polly, and hope fhe will accept of it,, as a fmalt. tribute of gratitude due to you, The other trifles- which you will find enclofed, are not worth the men* koning •, and be allured, that wherever 1 am, I a:n fmcerely yours, R. B, - LETTER * 34 LETTERS on LETTER XXV. The Clergyman's Anfwer, My dear Sir, I Received your letter, and would have anfwered it fooner, but there were fo many perfons Tick in my parkh, that I could not difpenfe with attending them. It has been often faid, that the life of a clergyman is little better than a ftate of idlenefs; but thofe who do their duty, will not find it fo. However, I fhall not infift on that, fubjecl: at prefent ; and let thofe who abufe the clergy, take care that they do not in- jure religion. — And now, Sir, with refpect to the contents of your letter: I muft confefs, indeed, that there is fomething in it too general, and yet I will rndeavour to be particular in my anfwer. I am no ftranger to that neglect which your pa- rents fhewed in your education : but now, by the cieath of your uncle, you have the means put in your power to make a proper improvement. I am, how- ever, much againft your reading polemical contro- versy; for, from what you have told me, I am able to tell you, that a Romifh prieft would be under no great difficulty to make you a convert. There is no grudge like a religious one ; and, in religious con- troversies, I am forry to fay, that truth is feldom fought after, and as feldom found. Indeed it can- not be otherwife; for the greateft part of our re- ligious controverfies are fpent in abufe, fcurrility, and falfhood. I would therefore have you to avoid the perufal of books on controverfy as much as poflible, 'till fuch time as your mind is fo well fettled in the principles of holy religion, that there can be no great fear of your being dift.racr.ed. With refpeft to a general courfe of reading, it requires fome confi- deration ; but, as I have often thought of the fub- jecl:, lb I fhall not be under much difficulty in giving yo%fuch an anfwer as, I hope, will prove fatisfaCtory. To every Occurrence in Life. g£ To fpend fome part of your time in reading the hiftory of England, is certainly commendable ; but I would, by nQ means, have you confine yourfelf wholly to it. The conftant ufe of one fort of reading will, in the end, become as naufeous as living continually on one fort of victuals. We ought to read on dif- ferent fubje&s ; but that mud be done with care, otherwife the mind will be led into confufio.i ; and the perfon who is feeking after knowledge, will find himfelf like one intoxicated with liquor. There is fomething extremely profitable in divi- ding our time properly. Thus the man of bufmefs fhould read little ; the man of reading fhould have little connection with bufinefs. Your circumftances in life, by an aft of Divine Providence, fets you above the necefhty of attending a mercantile employment, for which you was defigned ; and your inclinations having led you to reading and fludy, I fhall rejoice to give you all the adiftance in my power. When I was about your age, I fpent the day in the following manner. Having addrelTed myfelf to the Divine Being, I read at leaft two chapters in the Sa- cred Scriptures, with fome practical commentaries upon them. Breakfaft being over, I fpent the fore- noon in perufing hiftory, which enlarged my mind, and made me acquainted with the ways of this lower world. Leaving my ftudy, I walked about two hours into the fields, and then returned to dinner, where I enjoyed the company of my friends, who with me partook of our Maker's bounty. The cheer- ful glafs was circulated, innocence reigned in every heart, and ufeful knowledge was diffufed : but I tnuft referve the remainder 'till my next. In the mean lime, I am, Sir, fincerely yours, B. S. LETTER 5$ LETTERS on LETTER XXVL From the Same to the Same, My dear Sir, I Told you, in my lad, how I fpent my time during the former part of the day, and now I mud tell you hovv I concluded it. After dinner I returned to mv clofet, and read fome of the bed authors on natural law, and compared What thofc authors faid with the municipal laws of my country^ Towards evening, tire mir.d being fa- tigued, I penned one or ohci of the mod agreeable poets ; after which, when the weather would permit, I walked into the fields. At (upper our converfatiort turned upon ferious fubje£ts, and the whole was clofed bv recommending ourfelves to the protection of the Divine Being, But although I have mentioned the.'e things to you, yet you mud only confider" 1 them as leading principles ; becaufe a variety of reading is often necerTary. for which no rules can be laid down. There is not a man in the world who can comprehend every branch of human fcience : his know ledge is too much circurnferibed, and his paflibns too much en- gaged in the pun'uit of fccular affairs, to attend to every thing he reads. ' The human mind fluctuates fo much between doubt- ful and experimental knowledge, that it is farprifmg we know any thing. Our memories are frail; our uhderftahdings contracted. This the ancients well kja . w ; bi t happily the moderns are, in fome mea- fure, releafcd by the afhdance of grammars and lexi- cons. Lexicons, or, as they are commonly called, Dicticnari. s, contain an univerfal fyftem of learning ; but then they are onjy to be confuted in the ordinary courfe of reading. To be continually reading, with- out a memorial a (u dance, mud be extremely ddagree- ar»re j and therefore it becomes necefTary for us to have fome fydems drawn up, in order to conduct us thro every Occurrence in Life. 57. through the labyrinth. Where fuch fyftems are con- cluded with judgment and learning, by men of un- derstanding, then they become ufeful to the commu- nity at large. There are many terms of art but little underftood, and therefore we are often under the ne- ceflity of having recourfe to Dictionaries for an expla- nation*. But there are fome other parts of learning which I w r ould have you, by all means, to attend to; I mean, the hiftory of the Romans, and that of the church of Ghrift, The firft will preientyou with a view of fome of the raoft ftupendous truths that ever took place on the theatre of this lower world. Here you will be pre- sented with the account of an obfeure band of robbers, nrft trampling upon every moral obligation, and then rifmg to fuch a ftate of grandeur, as to boafl: that tho fun rofe and fet in their dominions. You will find the bafeft vices confidered as virtues by the Romans, and even Providence itielf making ufe of thofe vices to eftabliih an everlafting kingdom, — an everlafting church. In the fecond, you will find a moft beautiful com- mentary on thofe words in the Pentateuch, The bujh tnirneth, and is-not covfumecL The diftinguifhing luftre of Divine Providence will difplay itfelf to your view, under every occurrence, in the hiftory of the Chriftiart church. You will read, you will admire, you will improve. Wifhing fincerely that God may preferve you in a way of duty, I (hall only add, that I am, Dear Sir, your ever affectionate friend, B. S. * The New Complete DICTIONARY of ARTS and SCIENCES, by the Rev. Mr. Middleton, and others, is in many refpetts, fuperior to any in our language, and will anfwer all the purpofes above mentioned. It is now publishing m weekly numbers, and will be completed in only 80 fixpenny numbers, ma- king two elegant volumes in folio ; the price of which, in fheets, will not exceed £2 ; or bouad in calf and lettered, £2 ios. But it may fee had by one or two numbers at a time. LETTERS <8 LETTERS on LETTER XXVII. From & young Tradefmau in London, to an aged Perfon in the Country, retired fr^m Bufinefs, S I R, IT is now upwards of two years fince I entered into bufinefs in the Strand, but I have not met with the fuccefs I expected. Di (appointments have dis- couraged me much ; but willing to promote my in- terest, I have engaged in another branch of bufinefs, I mean the building'trade, which requires no attend- ance, the whole being conducted by other perfons, fo that I can flill attend my fhop. But I am often much put to it for money, and that is the reafon why I trou- ble you with this. A fair profpect prefents itfeif, if I could go through with my prefent undertakings; and I am no ftranger to your goodnefs of heart. I have feveral houfes almofl fmifhed, and, 'till they are com- pleted, I would mortgage them to you for two thoufand pounds. That fum would enable me to acquire a confiderable fortune, and you would be in no danger ofTofmg. I would allow you five per cent, with a. confiderable premium ; and fome of my friends would willingly enter into a joint bond with me for the pay- ment, which fhali be made good as foon as I have dif- pofed of the houfes. I can allure you, Sir, that great fortunes have been made by the buildings carried on near London ; and I hope that my prefent application will not give offence, for nothing of that fort was in-' tended. About a month ago my wife was delivered o r a boy, whom I have named after you, and next fummer fho intends vifiting you along with her fon. I mail wait" for your anfwer with the utmoft impatience ; and, in the mean time, I am, with all manner of refpeft, Sir, your mod obedient humble fervant, Thomas Holmes. LFTTER* every Occurrence in Life. 59 LETTER XXVIII. The Anfwer. SIR, I Received your letter, and am extremely forry for the contents, which I look upon as the vifions of a madman. Pray. Sir, what do you mean? what do you propofe to yourfelf, by leaving the bufinefs to which you was brought up, and to enter into one with which you are utterly unacquainted ? Vain, indeed, are your hopes ; and, in the end, you will find yourfelf difappointed. I had once fome hopes you would have, conducted yourfelf as a young man of induflry, but your prefent propofal put me in mind of the old* pro- verb, All covet, all lofe. To grafp immoderately at riches, is generally a prelude to poverty ; and I have often found the man who was anxious to acquire a fortune in a few years, fpend twenty years in a prifon, and die forfaken, defpifed, and miferable. I was above forty years in trade, and when I retired from bufinefs I found myfelf not worth half fo much as was re- ported. It was enough that I had as much as would fupport me in my old age, and to leave the remainder to my poor relations. Trade, my dear Sir, is a plant that mult be reared with tendernefs, and nothing lefs than patience can bring it to a ftate of maturity. Our time in this life is fhort, and if we acquire riches in an honefl manner, be aifured they will not be great. For my own part, I confideryou as an object of companion, nor would I be in your cafe for the world. How dif- trafted muft your mind be, while fluctuating in the j condition you have reprefented to me. You have been building caftles in the air, and uhlefs you defift from your prefent purfuits, you will either become a beg- gar, or, perhaps ((hocking to mention) commit a crime that will involve your family in mifery, and ftig- m-atize yeur name with infamy. You 60 LETTERS on You afk me to lend you money upon a mortgage of your houfes. Let me beg, Sir, yOu will take a walk to the Fleet, or the King's-Bench prifons, and there you will find as many builders as there are windows in your houfes. No, Sir : I am neither a tyrant nor a knight-errant. I am willing to afliit you with money in conducting your own bufinefs; but I have nothing to do with your romantic fcheme. I confider the men with whom you are engaged as defperate adventurers, who probably will bring ruin upon you without injuring themfelves ; becaufe they have neither money nor characters to iofe. Do you love your wife? would you defire to difcharge your duty to your family? Break off your prefent connections, and you will find me a faithful friend. All 1 have, written is with a view to promote your interefl, and let me beg you will pav fome regard to my advice. You will, in the end. find 'what I have faid to be true. I fhall ever be ready to ferve you as long as I live ; but may God Almighty ,give you better inftruction than I can. I fhall be in London in a few weeks, and then I fhall have an op- portunity of enquiring into your affairs. I am, Sir, your iincere friend, William Thompson. LETTER XXIX. From a young Tradefman, nczi'lyfct up in Bufinefs, to € Ladies Maid in the Country, Dear Mifs Be!/y, BEFORE you left London, you promifed that you would never give your hand to another 'till you firft acquainted me with your intention : I mud ilill continue to folicit the hand of that dear angel, who is in poffcfTion of my heart. My father has given me fifteen hundred pounds to fet up in bufinefs, and, as I am well fettled, I only want your love, and your* felf «vi:ry Occurrence in Life. 6l fclf to make me happy. Remember, I do not accufe you with the breach of any piomife, becaufe vou never yet gave me your content ; but your amiable difpofitiou gave me reafon to hope\ou would not be cruel. Your ever honoured and worthv parents have alwavs treated me with the utmoft refpecl, although I never prefumed to beg of them to inteicede with vou in my favour. My affections were Freely placed on you, being drawn by the force of your merits, your piety and virtue. I know you have a foul fuperior to any thing mean ; but I hope, if you have the lead regard for the fincerity of my intentions, you will accept of a few trifles which I have fent by the coach. My mother has been long in a bad ftate of health ; but both fhe and my father defired to be remembered to you, and are glad to hear your family are coming to town : -and I can allure you, if permitted, they will wait on your lady to procure vou one week's abfence. J am all impatience to lee you ; but, in the mean time, hope you will honour me with a letter. I am, my dear angel, Your fincere lover, Joseph Atkins. LETTER XXX. The young Woman's An/icer. S I R, Violent cold, and a multiplicity of bufinefs, pre- . vented me from anfwering your letter fooner ; but now, having obtained an hour's leifurc, 1 Hi a 1 1 devote it to that purpofe. You know, that when we firfl became acquainted, we were both too young to think of any fuch thing as marriage ; and although a friendfhip took place, yet I knew my (lation in life. to be much inferior to yours, and this determined me to be upon my guard. Unequal matches are fcidom F happy A 62 L E T T E R S on happy ones, and difguft often takes place where af- fluence and poverty are connected in marriage. With refpett to worldly poverty, my parents are poor, but they are rich in good works to me : a fort of treafure they take much pleafure in, but it will nei- ther go to the Bank or the Exchange. I fhall always refpectyou for the profeflions you have made, and I doubt not of your fmcerity, but (till I have many ob- jections. I am afraid, the want of fortune on my part may deprive me of that happinefs which I fhould with to enjoy in the marriage ftate. The great uncertainty and many dangers attending trade, appear to be dread- ful. Suppoiing, that either by misfortunes, by lodes, or by extravagance, you fhould become a bankrupt, then I mull be reduced to a ftate of poverty, juft at a time when I was in hopes of living comfortably. Let me therefore beg you will look out for fome other per- fon more proper than myielf, and may every blelling attend one whom I wifh well. Elizabeth Barton. LETTER XXXI. From the young Tradesman in Reply, Dear Mifs Betjy, IF 1 refpe&ed you before, you have now completed the conqued by your prudential letter, which con- tains fo many wife remarks, that I hope I fhall never fufFer them to depart from my memory. But why> my dear, all your fears ? Is not my love of your per- fon, without looking for a fortune, proof of my fmce- rity and of your merit ? But why do 1 talk of fortune ? The beauties of your mind are greater than all my poor paltry trifle ; and whatever reipe£t I am bound to have for my parents, yet, I freely acknowledge, that good works are preferable to all their riches. And why, my dear, fo many fears, fuch anxiety con- cerning poverty? Becaufe a few, and indeed too many tradefmen, bring mifery upon themfelves by their ex- travagance, and neglect of bufmefs? Why, I fay, muft a body every Occurrence in Life. 63 a body of ufeful men be condemned ? Upon mature reflection you will think otherwife. Let us but at- tend to our duly, and leave the reft to Divine Provi- dence. The fatal misfortune attending tradefmen, is their fecking to be rich too foon : and while they grafp at fhadows, they lofe the fubftance. For my own part, I am determined not to feek riches, but to be content with an honefl fubhfLence as the fiuits of my induftry : if I get any more, you will be always confuited in what manner to lay it out. A&ing in this manner, you have no reafon to be afraid ; for whatever Mate we are in here below, there is no certainty of real happi- nefs. Let me therefore beg you will make me eafy, by complying with my requeit. when you come to town. I am your hncere lover, Joseph Atkins. ■iii. V LETTER XXXII. From the young Woman's Father to his Daughter, Dear Child, EVER fince you went into the country, Mr. At- kins has been frequent in his vifitstous, and the more I converfe with him, the greater reafon I have to efleem him as a worthy defevving young tradefman. You have often told me, you would never marry with- out my confent ; in that you may do as you pleafe, for I mail never lay refti ictions upon you; I am ready. to advife, but mud not direct.. You are now arrived at years of maturity, and it is natural you fhould enter into the marriage ftate, cfpecTaliy if an,agreeable offer prefents itfclf : and where, my dear, can you meet with a more agreeable perfon than Mr. Atkins? His family is resectable, he is induftrious, and, in my opinion, bids fair to be profperoir. Not that I would ever promife too much on any thing human ; but, put- ting all the circumflances together, I think you can- not do better than give him your hand and heart. You know I love you, and I am certain he is worthy of F '4 you. 64 LETTERS on you. I.fhall, however, leave that to yourfelf, n»r fhould I have troubled you with this, had I not be- lieved it for your advantage. Your mother is greatly recovered from her late ilinefs, and longs earneflly to fee. you, which we hope will be about the beginning of next month. In the mean time I would have you to write to Mr. Atkins, for he calls here every evening. I am your ever affectionate father, William Barton, I LETTER XXXIII. The young Woman's AnfxMtr to her Father* Honoured Sir, Was on a vifit with my lady when yours arrived, fo that I had not an opportunity of anfwering it 'till this evening. Bleffed be God that my deareft mother is better, let me beg fhe will take care of herfelf in this cold feafon. ior a relapfe is more to be feared than the beginning of any diforder whatever. With refpeft lo Mr. Atkins, I am no ilranger to his many valuable equalities; but ftill I think he propofes marriage rather too foon, for he has not been above fix months in bufi- nefs. Indeed, when I think of his propofal, my mind is often filled with a number of perplexities, and I ihuggle between love, fear, intereft, and duty. You feem to approve of his fuit, and as I know you would not do fo, but with a view of promoting my intereft, fo I dare not difobey you. But you mult ftill let my conduft in this, and in every refpeft, be regulated by your commands. w T hich fo me are very facred. We in- tend being in town on next Saturdav f-'nnight ; but I have written this evening to Mr. Atkins, and as my letter to him contains nothing fecret, you may defire him to let you perufe it. I have fent fome trifles to my dear mother, and p relent her with my duty. I am, 1 onoured Sir, Your ever dutiful daughter, Elizabeth Barton LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 6$ LETTER XXXIV* From Mifs Barton to Mr. Atkins, SIR, I Received yours, with another from my father, and am glad to hear that you often viiit my poor parents. Indeed, that is one of the grcateft comforts I enjoy ; for I believe they have lived to furvive many pretended friends. And now, Sir, I mud freely tell you, that your perfon was never difagreeable to me, nor have I any juft reafon to find fault with yourcondu6t. I re- ceived your generous prefen!-, and muft acknowledge: it was far fuperior to any thing I could have expected, Yourpropofal is honourable, and your pro feflions have all the marks of fmeerity, I never had any obje&ion to the marriage Mate, further than that of being afraid of rufhing into it too precipitately. Hafty marriage is fpeedy vengeance ; but I hope that will never be the cafe either with you or myfelf. What you have faid concerning trade, is undoubtedly true, and fo is what you mention relating to h.appinefs. Be affured, Sir, that I do not look for uninterrupted happinefs in this world; if I did, I fhduld have no higher views; but flill this world muft not be neglected while we are in it. Induflry enables us to -live honcftly, to fupport our families, and to relieve the wants of the poor. The extravagant perfon, inftead of having any thintr to and to whom we are accountable for every exertion of our rational faculties. With refpe£l to the order in which hiftory fhould be read, there are fome few books in our language, and in French, but they are fuch wretched performances that they ferve rather to difguft, than inftiu&. The facred hiftory you have gone over already in your Bible, but I think you ought likewife to read Jofephus; who, although guilty of many errors, yet throws confiderable light on the bible hiftory, and continues his narration down to the deftruftion of Jerufalem by the Romans. When you have finifhed Jofephus, you muft read the hiftory of Great-Britain and Ireland ; Iirft in a large work, and afterwards in a fhort com- pendium, containing the leading facls, which (if you read with care) will bring to your mind every occur- rence. Take great care never to negleft chronology ; I mean the time when fa&s happened. I have often lamented the ignorance of many perfons in that re- fpeft, who could relate every particular in the reign of a prince, and at the fame time could not tell when he lived. From the hiftory of England, you muft proceed to that of Rome, which will ferve as an introduction to the hiftory of all the ftates now exifting in Europe : but d© not leave the fubjeft with the removal of the feat of empire from Rome to Conftantinople ; you muft continue it down to the middle of the fourteenth century, when the Greek empire was fubdued by the Turks. If you attend properly to what you will meet with in this latter part of the hiftory, you will •eafily become acquainted with every thing following after it. I am, Sir, your fincere friend, Edward Talbot. LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 8i LETTER XLVI. From the Same, in Continuation, Dear Sir, AS a relaxation from general hiftory, it will be heceffary to read biography, or the lives of eminent perfons, of which I have often lamented that we have not one proper collection ; fome being too fmall, and others too large : however, you mufl ufe the bcfl; methods you can ; for in biography there is much that ought to be remembered, and fome- times as much mould be forgotten. In reading the lives of eminent perfons, take great care to avoid being led away by partial reprefentations. Lives are mod commonly written by friends, pre- pouefTed in favour of the party; or they are written by thofe who have efpoufed his fentiments, or ap- proved of his conduct. In fuch cafes, truth is feldom found ; but we mud make allowances for human weakneffes. There is another fpecies of hiftory which, if you attend to, will finifh your plan of education, and make you what you reprefent your friends to be. What I allude to, is voyages and travels, the mofl entertaining fubjefts that could be thought of; but, I am forry to fay, they are fo numerous, and that many of the authors relate things which do not feem to be confident with truth. When I was voung, I read mod of the * voyages and travels at that time in print, but many more are now added. We want * The beft colieftion of Voyages and Trav e ls we ever faw, and which contains all the late difcoveries in the South-Seas, &c. is that feletled by Mr. John Hamilton Moore, It is publishing in weekly numbers, price 6d. each, and comprehends accurate descriptions of every thing worthy of notice in the known world. By applying to any bookfeller, &c. you may be fupplied with the above work, in numbers or otherwife, adorned with copper- plates, engraved in lupe- rior {file, far beyond thofe of any fimilar publication. Price in two laige folio volumes, neatly bound in calf and lettered, £3 3- f . # a judu %2 LETTERS on a judicious collection of them abridged in a proper manner, containing every thing entertaining and in- ftru&ing, without reciting a dry detail of uninterest- ing particulars. Thefe I would have you to read, as a relaxation from more feverc ftudies ; but, above all, let me beg you will confider the proper ufe of hiftory. And firft., it will make you acquainted with the flate of human nature in all ages and nations. You will fee, as it were, empires and ftates riling out of obfeurity to gran- deur ; and you will fee them finking fo low, as not to leave any more behind, behdes an empty name. Se- condly, you will become acquainted with the civil rights of mankind, and the principles upon which government is founded. You will learn what raifed nations to grandeur, and what promoted their ruin. You will find that thofe perfons, whom we are apt to confider as heroes, were only illufliious robbers and murderers, who trampled on the rights of their fellow- creatures in order to acquire fame. Laftly, hiftory, in all its different branches, will prefent you with a moft beautiful commentary on Divine Providence. You will difcern the hand of God conducting the affairs of this lower world, and often making the pafti- ons of the word of men fubfervient towards promoting the good of the whole. Nay, I may add, that an attentive perufal of hiftory will point out to vou the necelhty of a future flate of rewards and pur.ifhments; for as vice is often triumphant in this world, and piety and virtue trampled on, fo God, as a juft Being, will in the end render to every man according to his works. Such, my dear Sir, are the ufes to be made of hiftory ; and if you attend to the fubje£t, in the manner I have laid it down, you will be efteemed by your acquaint- ance, honoured by your friends, and reconciled to all that happens in the world. I am ; dear Sir, your fmcere friend, Edward Talbot. LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 83 LETTER XLVII. From a poor working Man* imprifoned for Debt) ta his Creditor, SIR, I Send this by the hands of my wife, whofe afflic- tions exceed that of a widow ; for a widow cannot have any hope of afliflance from the dead, whereas the wife of a poor prifoner muft both wifh and hope for her hufband's deliverance. Read this, Sir, and think a little of my fituation : confined here within the walls of a prifon, for a debt of four pounds con- tracted for necefTaries during along and fevere illnefs, and obliged to lie on the boards ; nor am I able to work at my trade, which you know is of fuch a nature, that it cannot be carried on in prifon. My poor wife has almoft ftripped herfelf naked, to procure me a little fupport ; and having a child at her breaft, fhe cannot go out to work. Ah, Sir! Can imprifoning a man's body pay debts? No: but it may render ther debtor for ever incapable of paying what he owes to his creditors. Would vou, Sir, had you been under the fame affli&edcircumftancesas I was, have confidered yourfelf as guilty, in running into debt for a few of the neceffaries of life ? But fuppofmg I had been either imprudent or extravagant, how can you repeat the Lord's Prayer in fincerity, while, inflead of forgiving a fellow-creature, you are ftarving a whole family ? 1 believe you will acknowledge, that you muft either obtain pardon of God, or be caft out of his prefence for ever. And can you expeft that forgivenefs, while you treat a poor family with cruelty? You are, Sir, the father of a family, and how do you know but your own children may one day fuffer what I do now? Nay, how do you know what afflictions may happen to yourfelf before you go out of this world ? God is merciful, and he loves mercy in his creatures. Let me therefore beg you will pity my poor family, and grant S 4 L E T T E R S on' grant me a letter of licence for one year, that I way have it in my power to pay you. Here I can pay nothing, but here I may ftarve; nay, I am ftarving already ; and my poor wife, with my helplefs children, are almoft perifhing for bread: furely you muff, have formed fome bad opinion of me, otherwife you would never hove proceeded fo far. Remember what both, you and myfelf have read in our Bibles, and furely you have not forgot the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gofpel. Shew fome companion to an af- flicted father, a difconfolate mother, and three help- lefs infants : fet open the prifon doors where I am confined, that the hearts of the afflicted may ling with joy: treat my poor wife with tendernefs, and let mc beg you will fend me a favourable anfwer. I am, Sir, with refpect, Your humble fervant, James Parry. LETTER XLVIIJ. The Anfutr* SIR, I Have jufl received yours, and pe.rufed the melan- choly contents with more concern than I am able to exprefs. It was reprefented to me, that you was an idle drunken fellow, who neglected your family, and fpent more money in alehoufes than would have fupported your wife and children. That was the rea- fon why I took out a writ againft you ; for although I would not be guilty of an ill-natured action to any of my fellow-creatures, yet I cannot believe thofe are worthy of the leaft pity, who have not bowels of compaflion to their children. To convince you, therefore, that I am not the tyrant you have repre- fented me, I have given your wife five millings, and (hall every Occurrence in Life. 85 fhall this evening fet you at liberty. As for granting you a. letter of licence, it is altogether unnecelfary, for it would be attended with expence ; and, I am certain, you could not pay the debt in one year. You may confide in me, that if you will aft as an honeft man to your family, and not frequent ale- houfes, vou will find me a friend, ready at all times to ferve you. I will give you more time than you can reafonably expect, and much more than you have deferved, if report be true. Call for what you want at the bar in the prifon, and I will be with you about feven o'clock this evening. I am. Sir, &c. Charles Roberts. LETTER XLIX. From a young Man, a Carpenter, defirous of Jetting up in Bufinefs, to the Per/on with whom he ferved his Apprenticejhip, Honoured Sir, OUR tendernefs to me, while I lived with you, encourages me to trouble you with this. To mention your having taught me an ufeful mechanical employment, is faying little, when I reflect on your care for my morals, and your regard for my intereft, during the whole feven years of my apprenticefhip. Virtue, however, cannot go unrewarded ; and, as I am not the only inftance of your benevolence, fo I am fully perfuaded you enjoy more peace of mind, in confequence of having done good, than thoufands of thofe who have acquired what the world calls a fortune, at the expence of a good confcience ; being wounded in the light of God, while they were hated by their fellow-creatures. But now I come to the main purport of this letter. H Mr. Beck, Y 86 LETTERS on Mr. Beck, for whom I have worked upwards of three years, died a few weeks ago ; and, having left no children in his own branch of buhnefs, every thing is to be difpofed of. I am acquainted with all his cuftomers, and they have promifed to employ me, if I can only make interefl; fufheient to purchale his im- plements of workmanfhip, and flock in trade. That, however, is not in my power ; for although I have lived extremely frugal, yet I have not faved anymore than fixty pounds, which is not one fixth of the (ura demanded. Credit, indeed, has been offered me for two years, but I have two objections : firft, I am afraid it will not be in my power to make good the payment in that time : and fecondly, I am r,ot much in love with the executors. The truth is, they are profligates ; and thofe who fpend their own money in extravagance, will ihew but little pity (o me, if I am reduced to a date of difhrefs : I have, therefore, ventured to prefent my cafe to you. Your goodnefs of heart is great, your character is efiabljfhcd, and your fame has been long fpread abroad among the virtuous and the pious. You know I have no fecu- rity to give you, befidcs that of the word and hand- writing of an honeft man ; and, if you will give me your advice and aiTiftance in this affair, it mail ever be acknowledged with gratitude, By, Sir, your moil obedient fervant, George Booth. P. S. As the whole is to be fold by auction, I fhould be glad of your anfwer. LETTER L. The Anfwer, SIR, THREE days ago I received your letter, and would have anfwered it fooner, but I was laid up with a fevere fit of the Gout, which alone pre- vented EVEfc* Occurrence in Life. £7 ve nted me ; for you well know, that it was always my practice to anfwer letters, whether I complied with the requcfts contained in them or not. And now, my dear Sir, give me leave to pafs over all the encomiums you have beftowed upon me ; for the time for flattery is over, and nothing lefs than honelt fin- terity will now go down with me. There is not a fenhble man in the world, who will blame you for endeavouring to fettle in bufinefs ; and I commend you for not putting yourfelf under the power of Grangers, who might, in an unguarded hour, lead you into a fnare, and procure your ruin in this world. Alas ! Sir, what lavages are hurran creatures to each other! If their neighbours profper they give them alii dance ; if they are unfortunate, they are trampled upon. There is an observation on trade, by an author in the laft century, which has been fmce reduced into the form of a proverb; and, when I (late it to you in proverbial language, you will find that it corroborates the truth of what 1 have faid, M If your neighbour is going up the hill, fct si your fhoulder to him ; if he is going down the 4i hill, put your foot upon him." The maxim is fomething more than diabolical ; but, without conn- dering it any longer, 1 fhall proceed to write you an anfwer. From what I have heard from you, I find that it will require at leaft five or fix hundred pounds, to enable you to fucce 88 LETTERS on pany, and always went home fober. In company, pay your (hare of the reckoning, but never go home like a beaft. Keep an exacl: account of debtor and creditor every week ; and, while you fpeak with good manners to thofe who are indebted to you, never be afhamed to put them in mind of the neceflity you are under, to difcharge your duty incumbent upon you to your own creditors. You will have working men under you, but never pay them at an alehoufe, for this fhews them a bad example ; it corrupts their morals, and makes them neglect the duty they owe to God and to themfelves. Upon the whole, it is my fmcere defire that God may give you fuccefs, and make you an ornament to your brethren in the trade. I am, your real friend, Samuel Robinson. LETTER LI. From a Young Merchant, to the Daughter of a Counfellor at Law, My dear Mifs, TH E different opportunities I have had of being in your company, your many fallies of wit and humour, joined to the moft unaffected modefty, have entirely won my heart, and I am become your more than humble flave.— - You know T ha«/e been but lately fet up in bufmefs, but the profits anting from the returns have exceeded myhighell expectations. I find the flave trade extremely beneficial : and I doubt not, but that in a few years I fhall acquire a conft- rierable fortune. But fortune is a fmall ccniideration with me. when I reflect on your many and valuable accomplifhments. It is undoubtedly incumbent upon me to look out for a partner for life, and who can I find equal to you? Perhaps you may think that I have an eye to your fortune; but, if fo, you are much every Occurrence iu Life. 89 much miftaken ; I never heard what it was: and al- though your honoured father fhould think proper to- cut you off with a {hilling, yet that will he nothing. tome. It is your merit 1 covet, your love I folicit; but your fortune, let it be ever fo great, is beneath my notice. And now, my dear, what objection can you have to me ? Surely you cannot diflike me, on account of my being engaged in a life of trade. — Trade and commerce fuppoits the intereft. and promotes the glory of the nation. By trade and commerce the in- duftrious poor are honeftly employed, and by thofe they acquire a com iortable fubiiftence. Many of the noble families in England have had their rife from the mercantile world ; and the anceftors of fome of our Dukes, may glory as much in their being the defcendants of Merchants, as others can of having, fprung from illuftrious robbers and murderers^ Confident with the nature of my buhnefs, I cannot make you a feU lenient in money ; but, what is much greater, I will attend to the duties of my flation, and, if Providence fhould fmile upon my endeavours^ you will have no reafon to complain. — I don't defire- that any thing fhould be trania&ed in fecret, and therefore fhould be extremely glad if you would (hew this letter to your good father, who knows the affairs of this world too well, for me to give him any information. I am, dear Mifs, Your lincere admirer, Thomas Ashtonv LETTER L1I. The young Lady's Anfwtr, S I R, I Received yours, and have attended to the contents with the utmoft care. I have had no reafon hi- therto to complain of your conduct; but I mud freely H 3 tel* 90 LETTERS on tell you, that fome of the arguments you have made life of, to let off your own importance, rather dif- fuade than encourage me to enter into the marriage itate. — You are a merchant; how many thoufands of rrerchants have been bankrupts? You are concerned in the Have trade ; and, let me afk you, if that is confident either with humanity, or the law of God ? Are not blacks, mv dear Sir, the workmanfhip of the fame Divine Being who formed you and mylelf ? In buying them, all thofe of your profeffion are the worft of thieves; in felling them, you are moil cruel murderers. By the firft, you difcover unbounded avarice ; by the fecond, unrelenting cruelty. By the firfr, you trample upon the facred rights of the whole human race; by the fecond, you feek to ac- quire riches, which, in the end, will be accuricd. And fhall I, Sir, give my hand to that man, who, in order to acquire a fortune, tramples upon the rights of humanity ? Can I expect the divine blef- fmg upon a fubfiftence in this life, which has been acquired by iniquitous means? No, Sir: let me love affluence, let me court grandeur; but let innocence and honeft indnfhy be the means to procure them. I mid further tell you. that I am no friend to mer- cantile life : a commiflion of bankruptcy would make me a beggar, and you perhaps fomewhat worfe. Your difintereftednefs concerning my fortune, has but litile weight with me: it may confift in words, but J am a ranger to voir real fentiments. I am glad you have permitted me to fhew your letter to my ever honoured father, and you will foon recieve an anfwer from him. In the mean time, whatever may be my private fentiments, I fhall continue to cor- refrond with you, 'till every point is cleared up ; and be allured that I am Your well-wiiher, Elizabeth Nares, LETTER every Occurrence in Life. gt LETTER LIII. The Counfellor's Letter to the young Merchant* Dear Sir, MY daughter, who was never' wanting in duty to me, has juffc now fhewn me a letter from you, on the fubje& of marriage. I do allure you, Sir, that is a flate, which, as it is neceffary for the exiftence of fociety, fo no reafonable perfon ought to have any obje&ion to it. I have always found, that thofe who defpife marriage are, in mod refpecls, men of loofe characters; not a&ing from principle, but following the inftinfts of unbridled lulls, grofs paf- fions, and unlawful defires: but it is not fo with me, which leads me to coniider the fubject-matter of your letter, and I (hall do it with as much candour as poffible. I think that, as a merchant, you fet too little ftore by money ; for that emblem of riches, is the only article you have to deal in. Your bufinefs as a mer- chant, is not better than that of a lawyer: we feek money, and, when we get it, we keep it ; but what the merchant lays out to-day, he expects it will bring him much more, and thus his (lock is continually fluctuating, i am afraid, that if you defpife money, you will never make any great figure as a merchant ; for a mercantile life is a life of care: and, if you look back to the reign of Queen Elizabeth, you will find many refpe&able names in the order of knight- hood, who, by their attention to mercantile affairs were able in advanced life to retire from bufinefs, and purchafe confiderable cftates. For my own part, I cannot have any objection to your union with my daughter, only that I am afraid, a levity of difpo- tion w'll k-ad you off from bufinefs, and an idle mer- chant is like a drone, in a bee-ive. I have heard an exceeding good character of you, and I doubt not but 9 2 L E T T E R S on but you are deferving of it; you will therefore be fo obliging as to write to me, and I will confult with my daughter concerning the affair. I am, Sir, &c. S. Nares, LETTER LIV. The Merchant's Anfwer. Honoured Sir, WITH pleafure I received yours, and have con'- iidered what you mention with as much care as I poflibly could. I am extremely glad that, like many gentlemen, you do not defpife the mercantile world. I have often read, that the French and Spa- niards had a flrong averfion to merchandife ; but I know, from experience, that they have thought better fince, and at prefent are as fond of the fweets arifing from it, as either we or the Dutch. Indeed, for my own part, I can fee no other danger arifing from mer- chandife, befides what is the common effefts of Di- vine Providence ; I mean loffes at fea, or, which is perhaps ftill worfe, the wickednefs of men. The firft we fhould fubmit to with refignation, trading that God will, in fome other way, make up the lofs : the lafl we muft likewife fubmit to, becaufe human nature is always the fame ; and, I am forry to fay, that there are too many men in the world, who are utterly anacquainted with honefty, and who have no principle to pay their debts. But your grand objection is, my defpifmg money. Let me beg you will excufe an expreffion. made ufe of by a young man in love : for you well know, that all lovers are blind. But the truth is, the expreffion alluded to, fo far from being unguarded, was the effecr. of consideration. I think, I have a fufficient capital to carry on trade, and you know it is too much .every Occurrence in Life. 93 much the fafhion to court young ladies for their for- tunes. It was, therefore, from a principal of honour, that I did not deiire any money ; well knowing that if my merit fhould, in time, entitle me to any, it would not be denied. Your daughter's merits are fuperior to riches, and her prudence will enable me to make a proper ufe of what little I have. I hope, therefore, the objection is removed, and that you will not obftruci my happinefs, if I can obtain your daughter's confent. You will receive enclofcd a letter for her, in which I have explained, at large, every thing contained in her's ; and, if {he gives me leave, I will wait on her, I am, honoured Sir, Your moll humble fervant, Thomas Askton, LETTER LV. The Merchant's Letter to the young Lady* Lear Mifs, I Received yours, with one from your honoured fa- ther ; and, as I have written to him, you will probably fee my letter. In the mean time, I am called upon bv vou. to aniwer a queftion relating to a fubjecl: which I have, perhaps, too lime under- ftood. It was my lot to ferve my clerkfhip to a mer- chant, who had great concerns in the flavc trade, by which he acquired a forcune ; and, as it was fo jpommonly pra&ifed, 1 rijsvej f -rioutty considered it. I am forry to fay, that Ion?; practice, even in bad things, becomes as it wens a (econd nature, and habits are not eafily fhaken off. There are, however, circum fiances in life, which do more towards the reformation of the human conduct, than the bed in- flruclions that can be given. Love opens a large ex- tended 94 LETTERS on tended field for improvement, efpecially "where the- beloved object is virtuous. You have taught me more concerning the natural rights of my fellow-crea- tures, than ever I knew before; and to convince you that 1 am a traceable fcholar, I have refolved to relinquifh all connections with the (lave trade, as foon as I can fettle my accounts with my correfpondenrs. Be allured that I am not hard-hearted, and much lefs would I rejoice to fee my fellow-creatures in a flate of flavery. It is a happinefs, I am not confined to one fpecies of merchandise: for I am acquainted with raoft branches, and confequently can adhere to that which is moll beneficial to the community ; looking for nothing more for myfelf, than the jufl reward of my honeft induftry ; and this is what, I think, you will never find fault with. And now, my dear, have I not given you the ut- moff. fatisfaftion ? And, the Divine Being is my wit- nefs, that fincerity has guided my pen. Let me add further, that in my addreffes to you, I lock to no- thing of a romantic nature, but could wifh to fpend the marriage life with the fame pleafure as fome do courtfhip. A circumftance which fome would rejoice in, has happened to me •, and although advantageous, is melancholy. My brother James died about fix months ago in the Eaft-Indies, and has left a confi- derable fortune ; but I fhall not turn any part of it into trade, 'till I fee how things go on with my pre- fent capital. I long to hear from you, but much more to call you my own. Nothing, but the duty of my profeflion. fhall f-parate me from your company; and we may be happy, if we are only agreeable, I am, dear Mifs, Your affectionate lover, Thomas Ash TON- LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 95 LETTER LVI. The young Lady's Anfwer. SIR, I Received yours, and 'fhall begin with the latter part of' it, namely, the death of your brother. I am of opinion, Sir, that you have not confidercd that fubje£r. with fo much ferioufnefs as it deferves; but ftill I am unable to enter into the inmoil recedes of the human heart. Do I love my brother? Do I \viffi for a continuance of his life ? And fhall I rejoice in the enjoyment of his fortune ? I will freely acknow- ledge, that under fuch circumftanccs, there are com- monly a variety of pafiions warring againft each other, and it too frequently happens that avarice gets the better of compailion, and we forget our molt beloved relations as foon as we are put in povTefhon of their inheritance. Be not offended, Sir, when I tell you, that the time is not far diftant when you and myfelf will, like your brother, be configned to the filent grave : " where the wicked ceafe from troubling, and " where the weary are at reft." The death of your brother fhould teach you to fet a proper value upon all temporal enjoyments; but not like a popifh reclufe, to neglect the duties of your ftation. I have often thought, that thofe who frequently me- ditate on death are beir. prepared for it, and its terrors lofe their force ; the vipers hung is plucked out, in confequence of familiarity. I have no doubt but your brother died trufting for falvation in the merits of a Divine Redeemer, fo that I fhall not fay any thing more on the fubjeft ; for if I did not conhder you as well acquainted with the nrit principles of the Chriflian religion, Ifhouldnot writeto you as a friend. However, I confider you as afting conhftent with the principles you profefs, and, therefore, I fhall open my mind to you without refer ve. The 9 6 LETTERS' on The letter you fent to my father is, in all refpects, fatisfactory ; and I take it for granted, that you acted upon honourable principles ; for 1 am no ftranger to the mercenary way in which matches are commonly made up. A man may defpife an attachment to riches, and yet he may make a proper ufe of the benefits of Divine Providence. Your refolution con- cerning the flave trade gives me much pleafure, and happy fhall I think myfelf if one word written by me (hould be the means of putting an end to a practice contrary to the laws of humanity, and fuch as will ever bring down a curfe upon thofe concerned in it. I could wifh for the divine blefling ; but how can I expect it while I am rioting on the fpoils of my fellow- creatures ? This objection being removed, I look towards your propofal of marriage, and if you con- tinue to act in the fame manner you have hitherto done, I cannot reafonably object to an union with you. Indeed I am afraid I muft take you for better or worfe ; but 'tis a comfort, I hope I have fortitude fufficient to meet the ftrongeft temptations. My father agrees with what you have propofed, and could wim that you would adhere to your refolution of letting your bro- ther's money remain in the funds, 'till fuch time as you can fully experience the nature of trade, and then you will know the value of money, with the ufes to which it ought to be applied. We expect to fee you here, and perhaps I fhall then have no ob- jections againil giving my hand where my heart is al- ready placed. I am, dear Sir, fincerely yours, Elizabeth Nare5 4 LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 97 LETTER LVII. From a Lady to a Clergyman, on her Hujband and Son being killed in Battle, Rev. Sir, YOUR difcourfes from the pulpit have often inftrucled me in the way of my duty ; by your pious inftructions I have learned to reduce the princi- ples of my religion to practice; and your example, as a living monitor continually before me, muft never be eradicated from my mind. But, alas ! I am now obliged to have recourfe to the fountain head ; with a heart overloaded with afHict-ion, I apply to God and to you: and will my pious pallor bear with the in- firmities of a weak, a diftrelTed woman? Yes, he will; and he will become my confolatory guide. The laft poll brought me an account of the battle of Minden, where my dear hufband and beloved fon were both killed, fighting for the rights of their injured country. Ah, what a ftroke tome! lam left without a hufband, and without a child ; my widowhood muft be fpent in forrow ; nor can any earthly enjoyments give me comfort. Ah, my dear- Sir ! why fhould we fuffer for the ambition of princes ? Shall families be reduced to mifery ? Shall parents -and children be deftroyed, becaufe kings will not re- main contented with thofe poor fpots of earth which Providence has affigned them ? Has my good and gracious God ordered thefe things ? Or do they happen in conference of the unalterable decrees of fate ? I declare, I am loft in amazement when I look at the myftery of Divine Providence ; and as I can only judge of caufes from their effects, I am fome- times induced to become an infidel. Is God unjuft? May my heart never nourifh fuch a thought ! and yet I am, on many occafions, ready to be discontented. What means (hall I ufe, my dear Sir, to reconcile myfelf to the various ways of Divine Providence? My heart is agitated j but I know you will fympathize I witli 98 LETTERS om with me, It is difficult to flruggle between duty and natural affections, and God knows I am but a poor feeble creature. Let me beg you will give me your advice, for no mortal ever flood more in need of it ; and whatever you fay will be like balm to bleeding wounds. I am. Rev. Sir, .5 Your affli&ed friend, M. S. LETTER LVIII. The Clergyman's Anfwer, Dear Madam, YOURS was delivered at my houfc while, con- fiftent with the nature of my orofeflion, I was attending to the grave the remains or a dear departed friend. Such, my dear madam, is the ftate of human nature in this world, that one melancholy circum- ibance often follows another. Every thing is deceit- ful to thofe who place their confidence in earthly hap- pincfs ; but to thofe who can look beyond the grave, all the troubles of this life are no more than trifles. The account you have fent me of the death of your hufband and fon, is certainly of a calamitous nature ; but there is nothing in it ftrange ; nothing new ; it is what we muft certainly expect, to meet with on the flage of this lower world. " Man is born to trouble " as the fparks fly upwards;" but unfortunately for us poor mortals, we feldom think of afHi&ion 'till, like a difagreeble vihtor, it meets us at our doors, or, perhaps, penetrates into our moft fecret chambers, yea, into our hearts. 1 am no ftranger, madam, to your unaffected piety; but I am afraid, you have not confidcred what the wife man fays, namely, « : To be humble in the day " of proireritv, and in the day of advei illy to con- « iidcr." You every Occurrence in Life. gg You have enjoyed many pleafing days, in company with your hufband : you have brought up a {'on, who was an honour lo his country ; and, fighting in de- fence of that injured country, both hufband and fon are now configned to the iilent grave. And pray, madam, what is extraordinary in all this! Has it not happened in the world before you was born ? And will it not take place when you are dead? You feerrt to find fault with the conduct of princes, for enter- ing into what you efleem unneceifary wars ; but let me put you in mind, that we in humble life, are not capable of penetrating into the cabinets of politi- cians ; we act as fubordinate beings, and the higher affairs of government fhall give us no manner of unearmefs; becaufe many things will frequently hap- pen that we are not able to account for, and this fhould reconcile us to the events of Divine Provi- dence. You fay much concerning the warring paffions in your mind, but you have not faid any thing con- cerning your refignation to the divine will. I am afraid, madam, you have longxlreamed of happinefs, of the mofl uninterrupted pleafures, without confi- dering that the Divine Being often afFects us, in order to humble us. Do you, madam, imagine that you are to live for ever? And is the life of your huf- band more valuable than that of another perfon ? Many brave men have laid down their lives, in de- fence of the rights of their country : families have been diftrefied in confequence ; but Providence hath often fmiled on the furvivors, and the children have inherited the reward of their father's virtues. You muff, not arraign the conduct of Divine Providence, but reft affured in your own mind, that the. Ludge of all the earth will do right. But I am juft called away, and therefore will write again to you as loon as pof I am, dear madam, Your unceic v/cll-wi flier, M. A. I a LETTER too L E T T E R S on LETTER LIX. From the Same to the Same* Dear Madam, IN my laffc I took notice of the outlines of yours, and now I fhall endeavour to enter into the fpirit of it. According to the dictates of natural religion, every human being is obliged to- fubmit to the dif- penfations of Providence. This is what reafon: teacheth, and what humanity fhould comply with. Shall God aft as the Sovereign of the univerfe, and (hall we not fubmit to what God has appointed ? Are we to chufe what we would have for ourfelves ? Then we are the governors of the world, and God is no- more than an iniignificant being. I will freely ac- knowledge, that natural religion is, in many refpe&s,. extremely dark ; but flill, when we make a proper ufe of reafon, we cannot be much led aftray. Truth is of a facred nature, and there is no great difficulty in acquiring the knowledge of its nrft principles* But, my dear madam, I have fomething to mention to you of greater weight, than the religion of nature ; I mean, divine revelation. — Human reafon is weak, but God has provided a remedy;. when we were without help, Chrift died for the Ungodly. But he not only died, he rofe again : and, in confequence- of his refurrecltion and afcenfion, he confirmed poor Tinners in the belief of immortality ; he comforted, them againft the terrors of the grave. If you have the leatt regard for theChriftian religion; would you wifh well to your own foul ; would you defire ever- lafling happinefs : then, madam, refign yourfelf to God. Beloved as the objefts are, which have been torn from you ;. yet, if you put your truft in the Di- vine Being, there are flill greater bleflings in (lore for you. You will, in time, enjoy tranquillity of mind,, and, in eternity, everlafting happinefs. How every Occurrence in Life. tm How happy, madam, could I perfuade you to look forward to eternity. There you will enjoy your huf- band's and your ion's company ; and there you wilt enjoy the divine favour. Refignation to the divine will is a fure fign of hu- mility ; and, if you tiuft in him, the Lord God will be your everlafting protector. Humble yourfelf un- der the mighty hand of God, and he will exalt you in due time. Be not difpleafcd with God, but look upon him as your friend. Indeed the confolations of Chriflianity are far fuperior to any thing I can mention; and, forgetting relations, that will fupport you in your old age. May thefe fentiments make a lafting imprefiion on your mind ; a>nd be aflurcci that I am, dear madam, Your affeftionate frienc? y M. A. LETTER LX. From a Clergyman to a young Nobleman, My Lord, WI T H inexpreffible grief have I heard, tl*at you have given yourfelf up to all manner of debauchery ; that you have ruined a young woman, Who might have been ftill virtuous, had it not been' for the temptations which you threw in her way. Is it poflible that the youth, whofe education I fupcr- intended with fo much plcafure. fhould now become an abandoned profligate ? But I know it is true, for I have received information from thofe who would not deceive me. Ah ! my dear lord, have you forgotten all the inftru&ions I gave you ? Yes ; and what is- Hill worfe, and attended with innumerable aggrava- tions, you have defpifed the law of God, and tram- X 3 pled 102 LETTERS on pled on the rights of humanity. Was it for this, that I carried you in my arms? that I pointed out to you, in your infant years, the amazing beauties of creation : and taught y© to love God as a friend, rather than to fear him as a fovereign ? Let me beg you to call upon me, and I will not fay what anger infpires, what prejudice fuggefts; but the effufions of the fincereft love (hall be poured out upon my once beloved pupil. You muft not be afraidofme, for you will neither find me an angry pedagogue, nor an imperious tyrant, I am no Gran- ger to youthful paflions, and therefore the greater lenity fhould be (hewn : but however decency, mo- rality, and religion, fhould fpeak more powerfully than the fenfes. What is man, my dear lord, if he takes counfel orAy from h's own corrupted heart ? Alas ! I find within myfelf, the fame paflions which have led vou aftray, and which would do the fame with myfelr, were I not directed by confcience and the fear of God. Ah ! what are poor mortals, with- out the divine aiuftance ? Be not afraid to wait on m'e ; my profefhon, as a Minifter of the Gofpel, Teaches me to do all the good thay lavs in my power; and, therefore. I will leave nothing undone to reftore you to your friends, and to reinftate you with tender- nefs in the paths of virtue. Come, my dear pupil ; and, if you will not, 1 will find you out wherever vou are. You may think, you may project, you may act as you pleafe: but I am determined, through the grace of God, that you fhall not be loft. " There " is more joy in heaven over one finner that repent- c: eth, than over ninety and nine juft perions who M need no repentance." I am, my dear lord, Sincerely yours, G. G. LETTER every Occurrence in Life. io$ LETTER LXL From the Same to t/ie Same, My dear Lord, WITH horror have I fpent the laft night in my bed, when I confidered, that inflead of your calling upon me, you actually denied to be feen r when I came to your lodgings. Am I your enemy ? Have I forgot the obligations 1 am under to your ever honoured father? Would you have me fall upon my aged knees, and beg you will return to your duty ? I will do fo, if you will fuffer me. I know you have a noble, generous foul ; and although, for fome time, you have been contaminated by vice, yet I ftill hope for your reformation. Do you imagine I can find fault with you? None but hypocritical devotees take plealure in putting themfelves into a pa : n r ion. Blefled be God ! I have read the Gofpel, which fhould be the rule of your conduct and of mine ; and, in that divine book, I learned that Chrift, with open arms of companion received the chief of fmners. How attentive then ought we to be, not to break the bruifed reed, nor quench the fmoking flax ? I doubt not, but you remember Eufebius, an author whom I often recom- mended to your perufal in your younger years, before you had polluted your mind with the grofleft impuri- ties. That celebrated author tells us, that John, the beloved difciple of Chrift, in his advanced years, re- claimed a young man from the ways of iniquity, and then left him to the care of the bifhop of Ephe- fus. Evangelical duty obliged the holy apoflle for fome time to be abfent ; and, upon his return, he afked the bifhop, what was become of the young man ? The bifhop anfwered, that he was loft ; by which he meant, that he had given himfelf up to loofe abandoned company ; that he had forfaken his God, and was funk into all manner of impurity. Bring io 4 LETTERS o:r be in the words of the prophet; " Return and feek << the Lord, until he come and rain down righteouf- * 4 nefs upon you.'* A regular attendance upon pub- lic worfhip,. nourifheth the fear of God in the foul ; and the more we attend to it, the greater pleafure do we take in religious duties. Be tender and compaf- iionate to your tenants; always remembering, that let your ftation in this world be ever fo elevated, yet you are dill the fervant of God : he exacts fpeciai obedience from you, and he will reward or punifh you, according to your actions. Upon the whole, if you attend to what I have faid, you will find the truth of thofe emphatical expreilions, " Wifdom's ways «* are ways of pleafantnefs, and all her paths arc •* peace." I am, my dear lord, with great fincerity, Your affectionate friend, G. G. LETTER LXIV. Frem a Merchant retired from Bufinefs to a Clergyman* On RELIGION. Rev. Sir, IT is long fince I wifhed to have it in my power to retire from bufinefs ; but the entanglements of trade, joined to the earneft defire I always had to leave the world with a fair character, kept me confined to the compting-houfe, to Lloyd's, and to the Ex- change, 'till the fixtieth year of my age. I have been now about fix months in the country, and although I have conftantly attended public worfhip, yet I am afraid my heart is often abfent ; I worfhip God in words, while, I doubt, my affections are not fixed upon him, as a Being of infinite benevolence, able to fupply every Occurrence in Life, 109 fupply all my wants. I am forry to fay, that beauti- ful as the country appears, yet I have been fo long accuftomed to London, that I often wifh to return. But what can I do in the place of which 1 took a for- mal leave? And, perhaps, you will fay, that it is much more proper that I fhould be looking forward to eternity, and preparing myfelf for the enjoyment of everlafting happinefs, in the prefence of my God and my Redeemer. Alas, Sir! how Chocking it is to be confined many years to bufmefs ! It leads us to forget God and eter- nity; and we enter, in old age, upon the practice of religious duties with relu&ance and dilcontent. Why thofe jarring paflions in the mind of a poor mortal ? Is there no contentment in this life? Can nothing re- concile us to thofe circumftances in which Providence has placed us ? Pombly there is; but I muff, trull to your directions, and, as J have always experienced your friendfhip, I hope you will afiift me on the prefent occafion ; and let me beg you will let me hear from you as foon as poffible. I am, Rev. Sir, Your iincere friend, T. B> LETTER LXV. The Clergyman's Anjwzr, SIR, RELIGION does notconnft in wearing a black, a brown, a white, or a fcarlet habit. The ut- moft receffes of a cloifter cannot change the human paiTions. Merchandife, if conducted in a proper manner, can never lead the mind from the practice of virtue ; nor can folitude alone make us happy, unlefs we retire with fuitable difpofitions. I am afraid you have fpent your bed days in the purfuit of trifles, and now you offer to God the remains of a decayed conftitution, and a weakened mind. The meaning K is tto LETTERS on is this; you have fpent youth and manhood to acquire money in the bufy world, and when you could enjoy the pleafures of life no longer, you retired to the country to offer the mattered remains to God. Is this an acceptable facrifice ? No, my dear Sir; and let me tell you in hncerity, that I am not in the lead fur- prifed that you mould find no happinefs in the coun- try. God is every where prefent, and he will dwell with the meek and lowly in heart. You mud either bring your mmd down to your prefent fituation, or you muft embrace a fituation fuitable to your mind: the firft may be a hard taflt; the fecond may be. eafily complied with, but as it will rather be confidered as improper for you to return to a life of trade, I fhall prefume to give you what advice I can, and you may depend on it, that what I write mall be dictated by an honeft heart, which wifhes well to your intereft. Walk much into the fields, and rerlecl; on the wif- dom and good of that Divine Being, who gave life to inanimate matter; who clothes univerfal na- ture with unexampled grandeur ; who fent his fon to die forfinners ; and who daily bears with our provo- cations. Look back to the mercantile world as a ftate in which you have wafted much time ; examine your heart, whether you have ever done injury to your neighbours : and if fo, make a jufl recompence. Spend one hour every day in reading books of devo- tion, and another in fuch as will enliven your mind>. Do not confine yourfelfmuch to your clofet, but ra- ther court focial friendfhip and agreeable company. Look forward to eternity, but (till cohfider, that God looks upon it as highly criminal in any one to confider religion as of a diiagreeable nature. Thofe who love God, will wifh to be in his company as foon as poffi- ble, but they will wait with patience his appointed time. Be innocent ; be virtuous ; be pious; be cheer- ful, my dear friend, and you will be happy. I am, Sir, yours fincerely, CD. LETTER every Occurrence in Life. mi LETTER LXVI. From a Lady in the Country to her Niece in London, Dear Sophia, I Received yours a few days ago, and fhould have been extremely happy had not what you folemnly afferted turned out to be a fuifchood. Alas, my dear! you may imagine youvfelf capable of playing the hy- pocrite with me, but you cannot deceive God ; nay, you cannot always deceive the world. If there is an omnifcient eye on your conduct, above, fo you will find feme here below : this is but too true, of which I will give you an inflance. Yeflerday Mr. Bailey from London, whom you well know, called upon me, and informed me, that you keep company with Mr. Harris, whom you know to be a rake, and a man of no fortune, and one whole debauchery has brought fhame upon his family and ruin upon himfelf. He has already promiled mar- riage to feveral young ladies ; he has deceived fome, and ruined others : he is, in all refpe£ts, a villain ; and therefore if you perfift in keeping company with him, your character, foul, and body, will be ruined. And did I watch with care over your infant years when your mother died, that you fhould givcyourfelf up to a ruffian ? Did I inftruct you in the principles of virtue and religion, and do you now trample upon and defpife every thing facrcd ? Have I fecured you a fortune, and is that to be fquandercd away by a lawlefs ruffian ? Ah, my dear Sophia.! bring not my grey hairs with forrow to the grave. The money I laved for you was but a fecondary object, with me ; it was to promote your happinefs in time and eternity that I fpent fo many years in conducting your educa- tion. Have you no bowels of compafiion for me ? And if fo, have you none for yourfelf ? Will you give over all manner of intercourfe with that danger- ous perfon, and come and refide with me ? Do not imagine that I want 10 make you unhappy ; God Ka forbid j 112 LETTERS on forbid ; for only place your affections upon a deferv- ingobje.cr, and with pleafure will I give my conlent to your union. I muff infill on an aniwer to this, and happy fhall I be to find that you have complied with my retjueft. I am your loving aunt, S.3. LETTER LXVII. The young Lady's Anfwtr. Dear Aunt, THE perufal of your letter has filled me with forrow, fhame. and confuf.on. Two days have elapfed fince 1 received it, ad during the whole of that time, my mind has been agitated with the moft violent paflions : but frill, Madam, I am not a hypo- crite, although my conducl may have given juft rea- sons for your being offended. I am forry to tell you, that Mr. Harris infinuated himfelf into my company, before I was acquainted with his real character: pru- dence and youth are feldom united, and I began to place my affections on an obje£t who had nothing to recommend him befides an exterior appearance. Some days before I received your letter, I was put in mind of my danger by a worthy gentleman, who often vi- iitsat my uncle's, and it was my determined refolu- tion to break off with him as foon as poffible ; and although it is no eafy matter to remove the affections from what they have been improperly placed on, yet I truff in the Divine Being I have done it. And row. Madam, will your humanity draw a veil over youthful follies? If you do not To, their I am ruined for ever; but I hope not. By you I was fir ft taught to addrefs my Maker: Your conduct, made leligion amiable tome, and will you now forfake me when I have complied with your requeft and returned to every Occurrence in Life. 113 to my duty? The diffipations of public entertainments, and the blandifhinents of drefs, have no charms fur me, when I confider the fuperior pleafures arifing from practical duties. Let me therefore beg, Madam, that you will once more receive me into your affection- ate arms, and your will fhall direct my conduit. I intend coming to you next week, but you mud not upbraid me, on account of my former conduct: I am lorry for it, and what can I lay more. My heart is not fo corrupted as you thought it was : no, Madam ; I have not forgot my God, my Redeemer, my Saviour. Stretch out to receive me your benevolent r.rms of compafhon, and then you will, by the cords of love, draw a young creature out of the pit of defhuclion, and make her happy. I am, dear aunt, your affectionate niece, S. B. LETTER LXVIII. From a young Man zcho had run away from his Apprm- ticefaip to his Father, dcfiring him to intercede with his Majler. Honoured Sir, I Have been juft reading the parable of the prodigal fon, and, from that affecting patTage in Sacied Scripture, I am encouraged, with fome hopes, that you will forgive my folly, and once more endeavour to reconcile me to my juftly offended mailer. Asa parent, you cannot feel more for the irregularity of my conduct than I domyfelf. "Without reafon, with- out provocation, 1 left the belt of mailers, who al- ways treated me with tendernefs ; and perhaps I have almoit broken my dear parents hearts : but does God forgive finners ; and v/ill not you and my mailer fhew fome compaflion to an unhappy youth, who is willing K 3 to ii4 LETTERS on to return to his duty? Although I deferted mymaf- ter's fervice, yet I never injured him, by purloining any part of his property: it was an unguarded frolic that led me away, a fenfe of duty has brought me to repentance. Alas ! I fee nothing lefs than mifery before me; I am almofi ftarving, having been obliged to make away with my watch and fome of my fhirts : I hope, however, my character is not yet ruined ; and if I am to be forgiven, then my life, through the divine af- fidance, fhall be new ; it fhall be my confbnt ftudy to do my duty, and by my afTiduous attention to bu- finefs, make complete fatisfaftion for my folly. Let me beg you will write to me, and let your mcffage contain an acknowledgment of forgivenefs. I am, honoured Sir, flill yourfon, T. P. LETTER LXIX. The Father's Letter to his Son's Majler, My dear Friend, YOU will fee from the enc'ofed, written by a pro- digal fon, what I mull: feel on the prefentme- lancholy occafion ; but you are a father, and I doubt not but you will rather bear with me, than exercife that coercive authority over an unhappy youth, which you have a right to do. If you knew how I am filled with fhame for my unhappy fon's conduft, you would coniider me as a real objtft of pity. What a mocking circumftance, to fhake off from us the fear of God and neglect incum- bent duties. To make fome allowance for the pafhons of youth, who, in Scripture, are juftly compared with the wild afs'scolt, is confiftent with humanity; but it is extremely difficult to aft under fuch circumftances, m as to bring young men back to a fenfe of their duty, every Occurrence in Life. n^ duty, and at the fame time fupport the dignity which is the exclufive right of every mailer. But God re- members we are dull; he knows our weaknefs, and where we are merciful he generally bellows his blef- fing. 1 his confideration, my dear friend, leads me to the main purport of this letter, and that is to beg for- givenefs for an unhappy fon : not that I defire to draw a veil over any part of his conduct., for I know that will not admit of an cxcufe, much lefs of a de- fence : facts fpeak for themfelvcs, and my unhappy boy (lands condemned by the evidence of his own confcience, and by his lettertome, which I have fent you ; and will you. my dear friend, receive into your favour a young offender ? Will you give him an op- portunity of entering once more upon a line of duty ? Will you yet train him up as an ufeful member of fo- ciety ? And will you have companion upon an af- flicted parent ? To obtain fo much is more than 1 dare expect, and yet I am encouraged to hope for it. To enforce the rigours of the law is fometimes juft, but mercy is always godlike : it is his darling attribute, and it fhines with the moil diflinguifhed luftre when one mortal extends it to another. May not I, therefore, hope, that a gentleman of your humanity will fo far fympalhize with me, as to receive into your favour a once foolifh, but now a penitent youth, who has fo- lemnly promifed to make every reparation in his pow- er; and thus you will fhew you rfelf to be greater by thisinflance of your benevolence, than if you had ac- quired the fortune of a Nabob. I am, dear Sir, yours, &c. S. P. LETTER n6 LETTERS on LETTER LXX. The M after' s Anfwer to the Father's Letter, My dear Friend, A Severe fit of illnefs has confined me above three weeks to my bed, but notwithftanding all my bodily pains, I could not delav one moment in fend- ing an anfwer to your affe&i'ig letter. Indeed, Sir, you have affected me too much ; but 1 (hall not con- fider parental tendernefs as bordering upon weaknefs. Love, or Cupid, was painted as blind by the ancients : and the meaning pointed out was, that lovers cannot fee fault in the beloved object. Well: and if lovers, who are no otherwife related than by affection, cannot fee faults, what muff be faid of thofe parents who, after giving their children a religious education, fhall live to fee them defoifing their higheir. honour, reli- gion ; rebelling againft the God that made them, and trampling under foot the blood of their Redeemer. This is emphatically expreffed by the evangelical pro- phet Ifaiah, " Hear, O heavens! and give ear, <; O earth ! I have nourifhed and brought up children, 44 and they have rebelled againft me ; the ox knoweth '< his owner, and the afs his matters crib; but Ifrael «' doth not know, my people doth not confider." Your fon's conduct has affected me as much as it could any perfon, except yourfelf : he is not, however, fo criminal as you may be apt to imagine; and I hope I fhall always be able to make a proper diftinction between voluntary tranfgrefhons, and youthful indif- cretions. With pleafure do I hear that he isfenfible of his folly, and with open arms will I receive him into my favour. Nothing that has palled fhall ever be mentioned ; nay, I will be rather more indulgent to him than ever, that he may be allured to the prac- tice of virtue ; for love operates upon a tender mind, but fear was made for a Have. Inclofe this letter to your for), and let him know, that I will meet him in a few I every Occurrence in Life. 117 a few clays at our houfe, on condition that he will not afk me pardon, feeing I have already forgiven him. Indeed I have forgiven him with pleafure, as one of the bed things I could do in this world j be- caufe it may be the means of promoting his happinefs, both in time and in eternity. lam, dear Sir, your fincere friend, C. B. LETTER LXXI. The Father's Letter to his Son. Dear Billy, Have loft no time in bringing about a reconcilia- tion with you and your matter; but happy for myfelf, that good man was as ready to forgive as you was to offend. What indulgence ! what tendemefs t and will not this make fome impreflion on my dear unfortunate child? If the goodnefs of God'leads men to repentance, (hall not your mafter's kindnefs have a ftrong effecV on you ? Ah, my dear Billy ! A new life is the only proof of a genuine repentance ; for in vain do mortals pretend to be forty for their fins, unlefs they forfakc them. It is not an eafy matter to form a juft notion of the enormous guilt ; and we are fo much inclined to partiality, or rather to ourfelves, that while we confefs one folly, we con- ceal ten. Of this I have a ftriking inftance in your letter, and which afflifts me much :° you fay, "that <; although you defcrted your mafter's fervice, yet f you never robbed him." Alas, my dear Billy! what fort of a confeflion was this? Have you not wafted that time which was your nufter's property? Every hour of your time, except, that portion which is: appropriated to fome particular purpofes, is your maf- ter's : you have no right todifpofe of one moment of it without his confent. Be not miftaken, Billy ; for thofo 1x8 L E T T E R S on thofe who are moft fenfible of their guilt, are moft entitled to forgivenefs : but you are forgiven, as vou will fee by the enclofed ; and if this has no effect on your mind, I am certain nothing will. But ah! how pleafant will you find a new life : pity your parents; but above all, pity yourfelf. I will do every thing to make your life agreeable, only difengage yourfelf from wicked companions; remember that when the iear of God wears off from the mind, the deftruftion of the man is not far difhant. You have every favour fhewn you which you can defire, and therefore im- prove the blefiing to a proper advantage. Come, my dear child, to your afflicted parents ; come to your worthy, your benevolent mafter. I have fent you mo- ney, and if you don't think it fufficient, you fhall have more when you return.* From your affectionate father, S. P. LETTER LXX1I. From a young Woman, zoho had married without the Confent of- her Parents, to her Father, Honoured Sir, IT is, parhaps, my misfortune that I was born a woman, and fubject to all the paflions peculiar to my fex. There was a time when I imagined it could never happen that any part of my conduct would give offence to an indulgent parent, who has brought me up with fo much tendcrnefs. But, alas ! 1 may juftly fay, that it is not in poor frail mortals to direct their fleps; we often pretend to be fortified againit the force of temptation, but, like the unthinking nfh, no fooner is the tempting bait prefented, than we fwallow it and are ruined. Not that I have any rea- fon to confider myfelf under fuch circumftances ; for whatever might have been youthful indifcretions on * To young Men. &c. who are not become peifeft in the Rules of Arithmetic, &c. wc would recommend Mr. JDaiidfon's Arithmetic and Meafurement) imprczed by examples and plain Denw>'Jl rati ens, price 2s 6d. the every Occurrence in Life. iiq the part of Mr, Ofborne, he is quite different now ; and I doubt not but he will be obedient to you in every thing lawful and juft, and that he will be a tender hufband to me. You have often told ire, that if I married with your coufent, you would give me ar. much money as would enable my hufbancl to let up in bu fin els : but I have not done fo. Alas! Sir, it is the fir ft time I was guilty of a breach of your commands; and I hope it will be the laft. And will you not forgive one whom you have often called your beloved daughter? Am I to be difcarded for ever, by my dear and ho- noured father ? I hope it is not in your nature, and that you will once more receive me into your favour. Permit me, therefore, with my dear hufband, to fall on our knees before you, to implore your forgivenefs, and beg ycurbleffing. You have bowels of compaf- fion, let my prefent afflictions plead in my favour. You are my father, and we have a father in heaven who forgives our fins as foon as we beg for mercy. Shall I not then receive the fame favour from my earthly parent, which the Divine Being fhews to re- penting finners? Yes, my father, I will come to your doors with my hufband ; and, perhaps, in the mean, time, you will give fome encouragement. I am, honoured Sir, Your loving daughter, A. B. LETTER LXXIII. The Father's Anfwer. My dear Child, THERE are times when mankind are apt to be fired with refentment, and I believe this never appears in amoreftriking light than when chil- dren are difobedient to their parents. The care I employed, and the money I fpent in giving you an education J20 LETTERS on education fuitable to your ftalion in life, gave me reafon to hope that you would never marry without my confent ; and little did I ever imagine you would give your hand to the man whom I knew to be a li- bertine : but all this is over, and I am tortured with anxiety. I will not, however, be fo uncharitable as to fuppofe, that the man who has been once a liber- tine, fhould always remain fo : no, I will always hope the bed, efpecially where there is a profeffion of repentance. My bowels of companion for you are the fame as ever, and I am willing to receive both you and your hufband into my favour, in hopes that every youthful indifcretion will be fucceeded by a fr.rict. ad- herence to duty, and the practice of virtue and religion. But (till, prudence directs me to act. in a manner which perhaps you may not approve ; and if fo, you will difconcert the whole of that plan which I have formed to promote your happinefs. According to your letter, Mr. Ofborne has forfaken his youthful follies ; a circumftance which will ever give me plea- fure ; but I muft infiit on feeing fome further proofs of it. A fudden reformation is feldom a lafting one, and the corruption of the human heart is unfearcha- ble. He may have interefred views, and as foon as he gets money into his hands, he may become the ~ fame libertine as before : I would, therefore, have him to work one year at his trade, as a journeyman ; and if his conduct during that time is confident with the character of an honed man, then I will fet him up in bufinefs, and it fhall be in a reputable ftation. In the mean time, if you approve of this, both he and yourfelf may call upon me; my forgivenefs you have, and if my blefling is of any fervice to you, it. fhall be cheerfully beftowed. Be not afraid, my dear, for I am willing to do more for you than I have promifed ; and left you fhould want money, I have fentyou fomethingenclofed toafnft you in your pre- fent neceflities. I am, your ever affectionate father, C. B. LETTER every Occurrence in Life. 121 LETTER LXXIV. From a young Woman, a Servant in London, to her Pa- rents in the Country, Ever honoured Parents, I Shall ever acknowledge, with gratitude, the obli- gations I am under to the Divine Being, for be- llowing upon mefuch pious and virtuous parents; but, I hope, my conduct will never induce you to repent of your tendernefs. With gratitude I received your kind prefent, and you may be affured that I fhall ufe it in the manner you have directed ; but, in the mean time, I havefomething to mention, which I hope wilL not give offence. Mr. Thomas Wood, a young man in oar neigh- bourhood, who fervcd his apprenticefliip to a carpen- ter, and has lately fet up for himfelf in bufinefs, has paid his addreffes to me ; and his character is that of a fober, indudrious perfon, who bids fair to obtain an honefl living in the world. His late mader died a few months ago, and he has procured mod of his cudomers ; and his attention to bufinefs, thews him to be one of thofe who have no afpiring notions, be- yond what is confident with integrity. My fervitude in this family has been aseafy as I could wifh ; but I think, with fubmifiion to you, that the offer made by Mr. Wood fhould not be de- fpifed, unlefs good reafons are fhewn. The young man's behaviour to me has been moded, decent, and affable. He has given me fome few p relents, but they are fuch as are confident with the mod rigid ceconomy. We are frequently together on Sundays ; and, fo far as I can form any notion, an union with him would make me happy. I will not, however, be precipitate, but in all things be direfted by you ; and although my affections may be in fome meafure fixed, yet I hope I fhall have fortitude fufricient to comply with your commands,— Your advanced years L call 122 LETTERS on call For the utmoft: exertion of my powers, to ailift you under the decays of nature; and I think that, if I was properly fettled in the world, it would be in my power to promote fuch a defirable undertaking ; and, I am certain, Mr. Wood would not have any objections. Upon the whole, I leave it to your con- sideration ; and fhall be directed by you, in whatever you order. I am, my very honoured parents, Your affectionate daughter, M. L. LETTER LXXV. The Father's Anfwtr. Dear Child, WE received your letter, and, you may be af- lured, it made a deep impreilion on our minds. It was always our intention to promote your interefr. ; and it was with that view, in compliance with your requefr, we fufiered you to fettle in London. That you fhould place your afie&ions on a young man, of the fame age with yourfelf, is no ways fur- prifmg ; it is natural, and, fo far as is reafonable, oucdit to be complied with. The character you have given us of Mr. Wood is extremely agreeable, and we doubt not but it is true. We cannot, however, be deaf to any thing, in which your intereft is in the leaft concerned, and therefore we could wifh that you would act with caution. One ftep of an imprudent nature, may make you unhappy in this life; and, from a variety of circumftances, deprive you of eter- nal felicitv. Mr. Wood may be as virtuous as you have repreiented him : but he is not my fon, although vou are my daughter. Providence fmiles upon a pru- dent conduct ; but thofe who are precipitate in their choice, generally end their lives in mifery. The every Occurrence in Life. 123 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wifdom ; and, we doubt not. but that fear has been long fvnee implanted on your mind, fo as to bring forth the fruits of moral and religious obedience. It is not our intention to make you unhappy, but we would beg you would not truft to your own knowledge ; which, perhaps, may be often directed by ungovernable paf- fions; but commit your whole cafe to that Power, whofe providence fuperintends the affairs of this lower world. — May every ble fling attend our dear child, for offering to make fome provifion for us in our advanced years. — It is an aft of gratitude which, we hope, will never be reduced to practice. That. God, who hasrrirefetved us hitherto, will do fo 'till our decayed bones are configned to the lilent grave. The God we worfhip now, Will keep us till we die : Will be our God, while here below, And ours beyond the iky. Upon the whole, my dear, aft in a proper manner, and then you may expect, the divine blelhng. We are, dear child, Your affectionate parents, C. and D. L, LETTER LXXVI. From a young Man, a Blackfmith, to his Sweetheart, Dear Betty, I Am forry that you treated my fmcerepropofal with difrefpeft ; but, 1 have been informed, that you object to my trade. Alas ! my dear, it is our duty to continue in that ftation in which Providence has placed us j and if my trade may happen to be de- L 2 fpifed i24 LETTERS on fpifed by the vain and the thoughtlefs, I am certain it is more ufeful and honourable to my fellow-crea- tures, than many of the employments in life, which enable fome of the worft of the human race to parade the ftreets in their carriages, and keep their country houfes, at the expence of the honeft and induftri- ous. — Confider, my dear, the order of Providence ; 2nd reflect, that an honed fubhftence, acquiied by mduftry with a good conscience, is far fuperiorto the wages of iniquity, or that of rioting on the fpoils of our departed relations. Am I to labour hard, to fup- port mv wife and children ? It is my duty ; for this purpofe I was fent into the world, and, whatever may happen tome, I am determined to