among them, as well as in the church of England; and a few such characters attract a great deal of public notice, and are beheld with exultation by the high-church party: but taking them as a body, there certainly is not the least foundation for such a charge. Their political principles are now the very same which they were in the reigns of George I. and George II. when they were considered and treated by government as inferior to none in attachment to the Hanoverian family, while the bulk of the established clergy were in opposition to the court. During the present reign the clergy have gone over to the court; and it is become the fashion to call the dissenters disloyal. As under different administrations opposite measures are pursued, it would be the basest hypocrisy to pretend to approve of both. But I am firmly persuaded that, under the most unpopular administrations, they would be the last persons in the kingdom to abet riot or rebellion.

Mr. Clif. What do you think would be the conduct of the dissenters in case of an invasion?

Mr. Lowe. That they would be surpassed by none in the zealous defence of their country.

Mr. Clif. Don't you think, Sir, that they would, with pleasure, take an active part in the demolition of religious establishments?

Mr. Lowe. They are the most determined enemies of rioting, and of anarchy and could not do so without first renouncing their inciples. With respect, Sir, to my few hearers, they are a poor people; they understand nothing about politics, nor do they meddle with them. I teach them to honour the king, and to obey magistrates in civil concerns; but to learn their religion entirely from the holy Scriptures, and in the concerns of their souls to consider themselves as accountable only to God,

Mr. Clif. I thank you, Sir, for your answers to my inquiries. They are perfectly satisfactory to me. The conversation at tea was on miscellaneous subjects. I am, with due respect to all my good friends at IslingDear Sir,

ton,

Your obliged friend and servant,
ANTONIO ALBINO,

VOL. II.

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LETTER LXXXVI.

From Mr. Charles Clifford to Mr. Henry Clifford.

MY DEAR AND HONOURED FATHER,

I HAVE received the joyful information that my beloved Eusebia is in the United States. I intend, with the divine permission, to embark in the first ship that sails for America, whether from London or Bristol. She is in the family of a Christian Jew. They are most worthy people. How kind the providence of God has been to her, to introduce her into so excellent a family. I long to be under sail, and clear of the British channel. How I shall delight to see the shores of the country which contains my Eusebia. I hope to be there in two months: but that will be a long time.

Mrs. Worthington received yesterday a parcel by the Mentor, which had a passage of six weeks from New-York. It contained eleven letters from Eusebia, and a letter to Mr. William Neville from a friend of his who resides in Connecticut.

I have read two letters from Signior Albino, wherein he gives an account of his going with you and Thomas Livingstone to Barnwell meeting, and also of his dining at your house with Thomas and Mr. Lowe. I rejoice, and my friends rejoice, that we have received so strong a confirmation of your love to the Redeemer, in the kindness of which you have shown to him in the person of one of his

servants.

I have sent my servant to Bristol to inquire whether there is a vessel there that is on the point of sailing. It will be a fortnight before one will sail from London, and I cannot think of waiting so long.

Our friends intend to return into the country the day af

ter to-morrow.

I

am, my dear Father,

Your dutiful and affectionate son,"
CHARLES CLIFFORD.

LETTER LXXXVII.

From Mr. James Neville to Miss Eusebia Neville.

MY DEAR CHILD,

HOW manifest are the favours which a good and gracious God bestows on his rebellious creatures! Help me to adore his name, from whom I have received mercies great beyond my conception, and more numerous than my faults. My sins have abounded; but his grace has much more abounded. I have a hundred things to tell you; and were the task completed, a hundred more would present themselves to my view.

I had every reason, my dear child, to suppose that you were in the depths of the sea; and I accused myself of having been your murderer. You can have no conception of the grief with which I have been overwhelmed. But these afflictions were mercies in disguise. I learn by your letters which we have received from New-York, that it was the swindler and his daughter who perished. Well! had it not been for that deception, you might have perish-. ed also. The stealing of your clothes and money, distressing as it was to you, has been a mercy to me. They were recovered from the ship, together with the book which contained the correspondence between you and your friends, transcribed with your own hand, every word of which brought to my mind that form with which I had been so long and so justly delighted. O my Eusebia! you cannot know the feelings of a parent's heart, till you yourself are a parent. My severity proceeded from a zeal for your.welfare. But your letters and those of your friends, through the divine blessing, have made me think very differently both of you and of myself. I have seen that my zeal was a blind zeal, not regulated by the word of God: that my confidence was chiefly placed in external forms of devotion, and in almsgiving; and that the love of God, and faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ, constituted no part of my religion. But I bless God that he has enabled me to say with Paul, What things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ.

Will you not rejoice with me when I tell you, that at my return, I found your poor persecuting sister sitting at the feet of Jesus, and learning her religion entirely from his word? In attempting to answer the correspondence between you and your friends, she found (to use her own expression) that you were an angel, and that she had been a devil. But she, as well as myself, has repented in dust and ashes.

She had sent for Miss Barnwell, who was at the Abbey when we arrived, but who, fearing me as a monster, as indeed all persecutors are, immediately fled to Thomas Livingstone's. I sent for her, when I knew she was there, merely because she was your friend; and she has been a great blessing to me and to Signior Albino, in establishing us in the truth. Yes, my daughter, would you have thought it? Signior Albino has renounced the pageantry of popery, and has cast himself, as a guilty sinner, upon the mercy of God manifested in Jesus Christ.

The good Thomas Livingstone is my steward, and Mary Livingstone is my housekeeper. The chapel is pu rified from every appearance of popery; and your brother, at our unanimous desire, presides in the worship of God, which consists in singing Dr. Watts's Psalms and Hymns, in prayer, and in a practical exposition of the Scriptures.

Your dear friend Miss Barnwell is now your sister; the happy wife of a happy husband. Mr. Charles Clifford, the bearer of this letter, is become as great a friend to Christianity as he was an enemy. I bless God that such cases are not uncommon. His gray-haired father, too, has fallen as a penitent at the feet of Jesus, crying out, like the lepers in ancient times, Unclean! Unclean! and has received mercy. O Eusebia, things are strangely altered here, to my great satisfaction and delight.

Having given you this summary of what has taken place at the Abbey, and at my friend Clifford's, it would be improper to omit, that both you and I are greatly indebted to the care and assiduity of Mr. Charles Clifford, in endeavouring to find you out in France. He merits the esteem of us all. It would not displease me to hear that he has a chief place in your esteem.

I find myself to be insolvent when I think of the good Mr. Levi, and his kind wife and daughter. I can never

pay the debt I owe them. Pray present to them my kindest, my best respects, and tell them that if they should ever come to England, I shall be happy in rendering them every service in my power. I am also very much

obliged to the good Mr. Bethune, to whom, and to his family, please to present the same respects, accompanied with the same invitation.

It is unnecessary for me to tell you how much your brother and your new sister have been distressed on your account, and how strongly they feel themselves interested in every thing that relates to you. Your sister Maria, and your old tutor, possess now an affection for you equally tender, but mixed with great remorse on account of their former conduct.

They all unite with me in every thing to you that is kind and affectionate.

I am, my dear Eusebia,

Your most affectionate father,
JAMES NEVILLE,

LETTER LXXXVIII.

From Mr. William Neville to Mr. and Mrs. Bethune.

MY HONOURED PARENTS,

FOR such I shall ever esteem you: I received your obliging, your most kind letter, in which you and your family feel for my supposed distresses, and wish to relieve them. Please to assure my brothers and sisters, that I shall always retain a fraternal regard for them.

Mr. Charles Clifford, the bearer of this letter, can ac quaint you with every thing that you can desire to know concerning me. This gentleman had a pious mother, who died while he was a child: his education, therefore, wholly devolved upon his father. Mr. Henry Clifford had many good properties as a man, but no religion. As a fathers VOL. R 2