not done till she was touched from heaven with a sense of her crime, so it was evident in her, that the first effect of real conviction is an immediate return to a sense of duty: she had broke over all the obligations and bounds of her conjugal relation, as a consequence of her rebellion against God; and as soon as ever she was struck with a sense of her sin against God, it carried her immediately back into the course of her relative duty.

We must now leave her for a while, and go back to Sir Richard, who was now as wonderful an instance of the grace of God as his sister; and both of them first touched with a sense of their wickedness, by the deformity and odious appearance of others worse than themselves; that is to say, he from his sister, and his sister from her abominable companion.

Sir Richard, as I observed, had been in a very uncomfortable condition upon the occasion of his sister's casting out a text of scripture in her discourse, which, though she designed in a banter, was made a terrible text to him, viz. that the prayer of the wicked is an abomination: from whence he fell, first, to examining his own condition, and with too much reason, to be sure, concluded himself a wicked, abominable person; and from thence he inferred that he was forbid to pray to God, that his prayer would but provoke God the more, and be an abomination.

I have given an account by what accident he received some comfort. But still he was in great pain of mind, and most impatient till his brother-in-law came home, who, as before, was then gone to London : as soon as he came, they met, and he unbosomed himself to him, as in the following dialogue

Sir R. Dear brother, I am glad you are come; no man ever longed so earnestly for a friend, as I have done for you; I have had no rest night or day, for want of you.

Bro. What's the matter, Sir Richard? I suppose I guess the business.

Sir R. I do not think you do.

Bro. It must be something about my wife.

Sir R. Not at all, unless it be to tell you, she has done me more good than all the ministers in England ever did, and is at the same time herself the wickedest woman upon earth.

Bro. You surprise me with two extremes; I do not understand you at all.

Sir R. I will explain myself to you presently: you must know

Bro. Dear Sir Richard, before you enter into that, give me leave to interrupt you a little with my own case; for you may easily see I am come back from London, as it were express; have left all my business undone, and could not be easy about my wife: I had several letters from my servants about her wild conduct, and not a word from you. I entreat you tell me how my case stands with her, that I may take some speedy course about it; for I cannot bear to think of being thus long from her.

Sir R. Indeed, brother, I am sorry I can give you no better an account of her than this, viz. that she quarrelled with me, huffed my wife, slighted all I could say or do in order to reconcile things, and flung out of the house in a rage; and which is worse, she is gone to an old companion of hers, that I am sure will make her worse rather than better.

Bro. I have heard all this by letters, I know that woman well enough; and having a hint, that if I went to her house, I should be refused the civility of seeing my wife, and perhaps ill used too, I have brought my lord chief justice's warrant to force my way into the house, and to take up the woman too, if there be occasion.

Sir R. That is very right, and I am glad of it; for she deserves to be made an example, on many accounts. But what will you do with your wife? When you come to use any violence with her, I am afraid she will offer you some very provoking thing or other, for she an outrageous wretch.

Bro. I resolve to offer her no violence, but that of entreaties and earnest persuasions: if she refuses me, she must be harder hearted than I can believe she ever was. I'll ask her pardon, even for those errors which are of her own committing; I'll give up every dispute, and every quarrel; I'll beg her on my knees to come away, to return to her family, and be reconciled. Alas, Sir Richard, if she stays there, she is ruined body and soul; her family is ruined, and I am ruined. I am resolved to get her home, whatever low steps I take, or whatever family prerogatives 1 give up. I value not those things, in comparison of the souls of my wife and children.

Sir R. I hope you will not give up the main point; I mean your family devotion, and your duty to God, as the head of your family?

Bro. That, Sir, is not mine to give, that is a debt, and must be paid; we are obliged to it as creatures, as rational creatures, and as Christians; we must reserve that as the great quit-rent of nature, to be paid to the supreme lord of the manor, by all the tenants; she can't insist upon it; it is not to be desired without injustice to him that gave us all we enjoy, and can give us all we hope for; I persuade myself she will quit that demand; and, except that, I'll give up every thing else to her.

Sir R. Well, brother, you deserve a better wife, I pray God give her repentance, and you the comfort of her; for you really merit all she can ever be able to do for you.

Bro. If I can recover her from this cursed house, and get her home, I am not afraid but she will be a comfortable wife still; she is in herself the most excellent person, and if God shall ever please to reclaim her, she will be an excellent Christian; she has a most endearing obliging behaviour, a bright genius, a vast extent of knowledge, a world of wit, perfectly mistress of good breeding, every way agreeable in person, and of an untainted virtue; what room can we have to fear, that God shall deny his grace, where

he has been pleased so visibly to prepare the subject for it? I have a full dependence, that she shall be restored to me at last.

Sir R. God grant you success, brother; when do you purpose to go?

Bro. I would have gone this afternoon, but seeing we are thus happily met, I'll put it off till morning, when I suppose 1 may find them all at home.

Sir R. Who do you take with you, brother? Will you have any of my servants to help?

Bro. I thank you, Sir Richard, but I think we are enough. I take two servants, and your tenant Page the constable, perhaps we may want him.

Sir R. Well, I believe you are strong enough; pray let me hear how you speed.

Bro. You shall not fail of that: but now, Sir, I have interrupted you long enough; pray, Sir Richard, go on now with your own case, where you left off.

Sir R. I think I was telling you I had got a great deal of good by the preaching of my sister, and yet that she was at the same time the wickedest woman on earth, though I think I should have excepted that young monster, whose house she is now gone to, and I promised to explain myself.

[Here Sir Richard repeats all the several discourses he had with his sister, and that his lady had with her, and the issue of them.]·

Bro. Indeed, Sir Richard, these are strange things, and your sister is gone a great length; but I see it is all the effect of that witchcraft, with which our corrupt inclinations seize upon us in our youth, when neither God's grace or parent's instructions intervene.

Sir R. You are right, brother; it is all want of education, or rather the fruit of that hellish education we were both of us cursed with. Alas! brother, old Sir Richard, my father, he is in his grave; he was our father, and we should cover his ashes; but this was our case, he never

was the man that said a word to us about religion, or any thing serious in his life,-he perfectly abandoned us to nurses and servants, tutors, and chaplains; who rather gratified our vices, to engage our affections to them, than instructed or reproved us, when they found us do ill. We had, in a word, no manner of education but that school at first, to do little more than play and words.

of going to

learn bad

Bro. Well, Sir Richard, grace was promised, and is given to rectify nature.

Sir R. Aye, come brother, this is what I want to talk with you about,-I have been educated as ill as my sister, and have gone as great a length as she can have done, what may I take my case to be? You have hopes of her, but I have had sad thoughts about myself.

Bro. Sad and serious reflections are some of the first discoveries of grace working in the heart.

Sir R. I wish you would explain yourself, what you mean by grace, and by its working in the heart; I have had something working in my heart, but I cannot think it to be God's grace.

Bro. Why so, Sir?

Sir R. Because it was raised there by a wicked instrument; does the devil, think you, work for God?

Bro. God can make use of what instrument he pleases, and can make even the devil himself instrumental to his work, but pray what mean you by the devil being an Instrument?

Sir R. Why I have told you what I mean,-how my sister's atheistical carriage, and blasphemous horrid expressions, made my blood run chill in my veins, and my very heart tremble within me, in seeing her dreadful condition, my own was represented to me, and it made this reflection in my thoughts; Lord! what a wretch am I! This creature and I are of one education and grown in wickedness, she one way, and I another, it is evident, she is set on fire of hell, and I am the same in kind, only in another