went away to have found her husband, as before; and this was the reason that made him so uneasy, when he found his brother-in-law was gone to London.

His trouble increased upon him some days, and brought him to a dangerous crisis; he began disputing against his own peace, from the fatal text, as he called it, which that wicked instructor, his sister, had preached upon, and he brought it to this dreadful conclusion:

I am a wicked creature, that is out of doubt, never was a worse, this wretched branch of my own unhappy stem excepted, wicked beyond others. And to aggravate this character to himself, he reckons up its parts thus:-I am a common swearer, a common drunkard, a blasphemer of the name of God, a despiser of all religion, that have lived in the omission of all that can be called duty, and in a general neglect of religion all my days. If I am .not included in the word wicked, then there is no wicked man in the world.

The premises being plain, the consequence is upon me, my prayer would be an abomination to God.

Why then, says he, I must not pray at all; and if I cannot pray, all my thoughts about religion are at a full stop; I am just where I was; and here he mused awhile.

Just where I was, says he, and where is that? A rebel to God, a villain to a merciful Creator, a reprobate condemned to be so still; forbid to pray to God for mercy, against whom I have behaved so wickedly; unworthy his mercy, and shut out from asking it.

At this dreadful period, this poor gentleman stopped short; and having missed his friend, from whom he hoped to have had some comfort and direction, he came back very melancholy and dejected.

His disorder was visible to all the house; his lady thought him not well; his servants thought him out of humour; his sister thought he was angry with her, which, by the way, made a downright quarrel afterwards; when the gentlemen came to see him, he excused himself as indisposed, just

spoke to them, and begged their pardon to retire: he went out no where, kept no company; in a word, he was given up to melancholy and despair.

It continued thus with him several days; during which time he had no assistance but from his own thoughts; however he oftentimes argued strongly with himself, that certainly it did not consist with the merciful nature of God to forbid sinners to repent, and to forbid them, when they were penitent, to pray for forgiveness. But still as these were but reasonings within himself, and here was a positive scripture against him, it overwhelmed all his arguments, and left him always in the utmost discouragement.

Poor gentleman! He had no religious education; no instructions of ancient parents, which lie as a fund or magazine of directions; and though they sleep for many years, yet often revive to the consolation and direction of the returning prodigal: his parents had been all like himself, who had bred him up as they had been bred themselves, more to good manners than to good principles, more to letters than to religion. Nay, so ignorant and so remote had he been led on from any sacred knowledge, that the scripture, which is the treasure of wisdom and knowledge to the ignorant, the fountain of comfort, and the restorer of life to the oppressed mind, had little effect here; he had but little of it in his head, and consequently little of.it could occur to him on a such a needful occasion.

However, as when God will speak to the heart, by his Spirit, he never wants a minister, so it happened here; this gentleman had some books, but not many, and fewer still of such books as were suitable to his present purpose: but ruminating upon these things one day in his closet, he found an old, torn, dirty, imperfect book, written by he knew not who, and perhaps scarce ever looked upon in that place for many years, entitled, "The Excellency and Usefulness of Reading the Scriptures."

The author, in pursuing his discourse, tells a story of a man who was made to despair even to rage, and almost to

self-destruction, by reading the 15th verse of Isaiah i. and going no farther, whereas the very next verse would have comforted him, and did so it seems afterwards. The words of the 15th verse are thus: "When you spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you; yea, when you make many prayers, I will not hear; your hands are full of blood." This put the poor man, says the story, into such a rage of despair, that on a sudden he threw his Bible into the fire, and run about with his hands lifted up in the air, crying out, he was cast off, was damned, was a reprobate, that God would not hear his prayer, and that therefore it was to no purpose for him to pray at all. The story was so apposite to Sir Richard's case, that he flew to the Bible, and read the verse, with four verses before it, all to the same purpose, and had almost fallen into the same snare the poor man did, of whom the story was told, for he could not withhold his passion: but stopping at the verse, said to himself, Who can blame the poor man? My case is the same, just the same; and if the scripture is to be believed, I am undone.

He kept the little old torn book in his hand; and though he was under an inexpressible concern, he was willing to know what became of the man, when the story goes on thus: a good minister in the neighbourhood coming to visit him while he was in this extremity, asked him from what occasion he had taken up his despairing thoughts? From reading the Bible, says the man; I wish I had never seen it. The Bible! says the minister, that is impossible! Yes, yes, says the man, it was from reading the Bible. It shall never be said, says the minister, that reading the word of God ever made a man despair; it has awakened and alarmed many a sinner, says he, but it always led them by the hand to comfort at the same time; and I am here, says he, to vindicate the word of God from that scandal, and do affirm that there is not a word of terror in the Bible, without a word of comfort near at hand to it. Come, friend, says he, where did you read? Nay, I know not, says the man?

Where were the words? says the minister. The man repeats the words: very well, says the minister, come, let me see the Bible; nay, says the man, I have not the Bible, it is burnt; I immediately threw it into the fire, for I could not bear to read any farther. The minister pulls a Bible out of his pocket, and gives him; come, says he, let me see what were the words you are so terrified with? Look there, says the poor despairing creature, and turns him to the five sequent verses of the 1st of Isaiah, beginning at the 10th. The minister, knowing the place, stands up and gives God thanks for vindicating the honour of the Gospel, in directing this man to quote a place so qualified to make good what he affirmed in defence of the gospel of peace and prayed aloud that God would open the poor man's eyes to see and receive the comfort from the promises, as well as to fear and be dismayed at the threatenings of the scripture; when he had said this, come hither, friend, said he, look you here; why had you not patience to read on the three next verses, stay now, and read them for thy comfort, ver. 16, 18, 19" Wash ye; make ye clean, put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do well. Come now, let us reason together, said the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be like wool; if ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land;" having read the words to him, he added, here is comfort, if you can say you repent of your sins, and reform; "Cease to do evil and learn to do well;" the promises of God are pledged to you, and you shall be forgiven; and that " though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be whiter

than snow."

The story goes on through many particulars, but the sum of it is, that the man was comforted, the word of God and the mercy of God vindicated, and a clear view given to every penitent sinner of the way to life and salvation.

Sir Richard read this story with great satisfaction, and it kept his mind in a state of quiet, though not with any great degree of comfort till his friend came home from London, of which we shall hear farther in its time.

But to return to his sister; after the last dialogue between Sir Richard and her, she had made some excursions in the family, that had not been very obliging; particularly she had fallen out with Sir Richard's Lady, which put an end to their friendship, and removed her from the house : the case was thus: My Lady was a quiet, peaceable, good-humoured person; not over and above serious, but far from a despiser of religion; and she coming into her sister's chamber, as soon as Sir Richard was gone, found her in tears, as was said before, when Sir Richard left her; it seems her crying was the effect of rage more than grief, at what Sir Richard had said to her, and she falls out with his lady upon the subject of Sir Richard's ill treating of her; and, amongst the rest, rallied his being turned so religious all of a sudden.

My lady heard her peaceably till she begun to banter Sir Richard's talking religiously, when she entered into the following discourse with her.

Lady. Indeed, sister, I am glad to hear you say Sir Richard talks religiously; I think it would be happy for us all, if we were more religious than we are.

Sist. More hypocrites, you mean; I see nothing else in it all.

Lady. I hope not, sister; methinks you want charity.

Sist. I hate this mocking and mimicking; men talk all that is wicked abroad, and then come and talk religion at home.

Lady. That indeed is another thing; but if they were once truly religious, sister, their discourse would be the same abroad and at home.

Sist. I hate it abroad or at home, it is all a cheat at