former ftate." When these thoughts were fuggefted, I flew to Jefus by prayer, who heard and helped me. But ftill I did not speak of the great things God had done for me, for fear I fhould not keep the bleffing. But all the week I lived as in the fuburbs of heaven: Jefus was all in all to me! At laft, not being able to eat my morfel alone any longer, on Sunday. I told my Band what God had done for my foul. After this, I was tempted I had done wrong; but on crying to Jefus, Satan was put beneath my feet: and every time I have fince declared the goodness of God, in this respect, he has sweetly fhined on me.

At present I feel I am nothing in myfelf; but Jefus feeds me with his love from day to-day. On this account I find him very precious indeed; and to love him more and more is all I want on earth.

Private prayer has been very sweet to me of late. I find such a holy boldness, in telling Jefus my wants, as tongue cannot exprefs. And though my wants are many, my chief request is, to be filled with all the fulness of God.

O Sir, how great is the bleffedness of living by faith! May I prove it more and more, till faith is fweetly loft in fight! O what a field of fresh delights do I fee before me! I am loft in wonder! They are all for me! Jefus, and all he has, is mine! O blessed portion! I have a goodly heritage indeed! May I prize it, and walk worthy of it all my days!

I hope, dear Sir, you will reprove and advife me as occafion In doing which you will greatly oblige Your unworthy Friend in the Gospel,

fhall require.

I

Rev. Sir,

LETTER

CCCCIV.

[From the fame, to the fame.]

E. R.

Otley, Oct. 18, 1774.

AM not worthy of the favour with which you indulge me; but this increases my obligation. O that God may reward you for your labour of love toward a poor infignificant worm! VOL. X. G

My

My dear mother has been very ill for fometime, but is now (thank God) much better. Attending her, and the family, has taken up the greateft part of my time; but the Lord doth all things well. I was enabled to praife him; for his difpenfations are faithfulness and love. The Lord is a kind and indulgent Father to me. O that I may be paffive in his hands! ever crying, Not my will, but thine be done! For let what will come, the foul that cleaves to Jefus, and refts in the will of God, fhall experience perfect peace.

To your important queries, I answer, I am in fome measure, always fenfible of his prefence; though at times, I have a much deeper confcioufnels that God is here, than at others; and though my lips are not always employed in calling on the Lord, yet I feel the defire of my foul continually towards him, and my heart cries unto him, without a voice, "Do with me what thou wilt:" fo that in this fenfe, I pray without ceafing. And in every thing I can give thanks; because I know whatever my Lord permits, will work together for my present and eternal good. Indeed I feel it does fo; for even temptations and trials feem to fix me firmer on the everlafling Rock. I am well affured, my Lord gives only what is needful. At times, he hath lately told me, What I do now, thou knowest not; but thou shalt know hereafter; and fo I find it. May Patience then have its perfect work!

quere,

As to your laft I feel a continued fenfe of my great unworthinefs, and the imperfection of all my words, thoughts, and actions; but Chrift bears the iniquity of my most holy things, and through Him, the Father, well-pleafed, beholds a helplefs worm! If at any time I am in doubt of any thing I have faid or done (which has been the cafe fometimes) instead of reafoning with the Enemy, I fly, as for my life, to Jefus; who, without upbraiding, tells me, He is all my own! O that I may be enabled, perfectly to love, and worthily to magnify this adorable Saviour!

He

But

He hath lately afflicted me with a violent Tooth-ach. he gave me frength equal to my day; for though it was a very painful difpenfation, yet it was truly profitable. At prefent, the violence of my pain is removed; but I have still a Cold, and a Pain in my face. When this light affliction hath anfwered the end for which it is fent, it will be removed. I have often folemnly dedicated my body, foul and spirit to the Lord, and therefore as I am not mine own, he has an undoubted right to do with me what feemeth him good.

I fuppofe, by this time you have entered your Winter quarters. May every one that hears you, be prevailed on to follow the bleeding Lamb! May your unwearied labours be crowned with abundant fuccefs! May the face of the Almighty continually fhine on you! and may your foul be continually penetrated with his loving prefence! So prays, dear Sir, your affectionate Friend,

E. R.

POE

TRY.

To Mr. ADDISON.

EE the wild wafte of all devouring years!

SEE

How Rome her own fad fepulchre appears!
With nodding arches, broken temples fpread,
The very tombs now vanifhed ike their dead!
Imperial wonders, raifed on nations fpoiled,
Where mixed with flaves, the groaning martyr toiled:
Huge theatres, that now unpeopled woods,
Now drained a diftant country of her floods;
Fanes which admiring gods with pride survey;
Statues of men, fcarce lefs alive than they.**
G 2

Some

Some felt the filent ftroke of mouldering age,
Some, hoftile fury, fome religious rage;
Barbarian blindness, chriftian zeal confpire,
And Papal piety, and Gothic fire;

Perhaps, by its own ruins faved from flame;
Some buried marble half preserves a name;
That name, the learned, with fierce disputes pursue,
And give to Titus, old Vefpafian's due.

Ambition fighed! She found it vain to trust
The faithlefs column, and the crumbling buft;

Huge moles, whofe fhadow ftretched from fhore to shore,
Their ruins ruinéd, and their place no more!
Convinced, the now contracts her vast design,
And all her triumphs fhrink into a coin:
A narrow orb each crowded conqueft keeps,
Beneath her palm here fad Judea weeps.
Now fcantier limits the proud arch confine,
And scarce are seen the proftrate Nile or Rhine,
A fmall Euphrates through the piece is rolled,
And little eagles wave their wings in gold,

The medal, faithful to its charge of fame,
Through climes and ages bears each form and name:
In one fhort view fubjected to our eye,

Gods, Emperors, Heroes, Sages, Beauties lie,
With sharpened fight pale antiquaries pore,
Thẻ inscription value, but the ruft adore ;
This the blue varnish, that the green endears,
The facred ruft of twice ten hundred years!
To gain Pefcennius one employs his fchemes,
One grafps a Cecrops in extatic dreams;
Poor Vadius, long with learned fpleen devoured,
Can tafte no pleasure fince his fhield is scoured;

And

And Curio, reftlefs by the fair one's fide,
Sighs for an Otho; and neglects his bride.

Theirs is the vanity, the learning thine:
Touched by thy hand, Rome's faded glories fhine;
Her gods, and godlike heroes rife to view,
And all her faded garlands bloom anew.
Nor blush thefe ftudies thy regard engage,
These pleased the Fathers of poetic rage;
The verse and sculpture bore an equal part,
And art reflected images to art.

O when shall Britain, confcious of her claim,
Stand emulous of Greek and Roman fame,
In living medals fee her wars enrolled,
And vanquished Realms fupply recording gold!
Here, rifing bold, the Patriot's honeft face;
There Warriors frowning in hiftoric brass:
Then future ages with delight fhall fee
How Plato's, Bacon's, Newton's looks agree;
Or in fair feries laurelled bards be shown,
A Virgil there, and here an Addison.

Then shall thy Craggs (and let me call him mine) On the caft ore, another Pollio fhine;

With afpect open fhall erect his head,

And round the orb in lafting notes be read,
"States-Man, yet Friend to Truth! of foul fincere,
In action faithful, and in honour clear;
Who broke no promife, ferved no private end,
Who gained no title, and who loft no friend,
Ennobled by himself, by all approved,

And praised, unenvied, by the Mufe he loved."

EPISTLE