“MADAM,

"I WRITE to tell you that your old op

preffor Mr. Thomas is dead. I attended « him in his last moments. O, may my

" latter end never be like his! I fhall not "foon forget his defpair at the approach "of death. His riches, which had been "his fole joy, now doubled his forrows; "for he was going where they could be "of no use to him; and he found too "late that he had laid up no treasure in "heaven. He felt great concern at his

past life, but for nothing more than his " unkindness to Mr. Simpfon. He charged "me to find you out, and let you know, "that by his will he bequeathed you five "hundred pounds, as fome compenfation. "He died in great agonies; declaring with "his last breath, that if he could live his "life over again, he would ferve God, " and strictly observe the Sabbath.

Mrs. Betty, who had listened attentively to the letter, jumped up, clapped her hands, and cried out, "Now all is for the

beft, and I fhall fee you a lady once "more."—"I am, indeed, thankful for "this mercy," faid Mrs. Simpfon, "and "am glad that riches were not fent me till "I had learned, as I humbly hope, to "make a right ufe of them. But come, "let us go in, for I am very cold, and find "I have fat too long in the night air."

Betty was now ready enough to acknowledge the hand of Providence in this profperous event, though fhe was blind to it when the difpenfation was more dark. Next morning she went early to vifit Mrs. Simpson, but not seeing her below, she went up stairs, where, to her great forrow, she found her confined to her bed by a fever, caught the night before by fitting fo late on the bench reading the letter and talking it over. Betty was now more ready to cry out against Providence than ever. "What! to catch a fever while you were

"reading

"reading that very letter which told

you about your good fortune; which "would have enabled you to live like a

lady as you are. I never will believe

this is for the beft;-to be deprived of "life juft as you were beginning to enjoy

" it!"

"Betty," faid Mrs. Simpfon, "we must "learn not to rate health nor life itfelf "too highly. There is little in life, for "its own fake, to be fo fond of. As a "good archbishop ufed to fay, 'tis but the "fame thing over again, or probably worse: "fo many more nights and days, fum"mers and winters; a repetition of the "fame pleasures, but with lefs relish for "them; a return of the fame or greater pains, but with lefs ftrength, and perhaps lefs patience, to bear them.""Well," replied Betty, "I did think that "Providence was at laft giving you your "reward."-"Reward!" cried Mrs. Simpson. "O, no! my merciful Fa"ther will not put me off with fo poor a "portion as wealth; I feel I fhall die."

VOL. IV.

Y

"It

"It is very hard, indeed," said Betty, "fo good as you are, to be taken off juft as your prosperity was beginning.". "You think I am good just now," faid Mrs. Simpfon," because I am profperous. "Success is no fure mark of God's favour; "at this rate, you, who judge by outward things, would have thought Herod a "better man than John the Baptift; and "if I may be allowed to fay fo, you, on

your principles that the fufferer is the "finner, would have believed Pontius "Pilate higher in God's favour than the "Saviour whom he condemned to die for your fins and mine."

ઃઃ

In a few days Mrs. Betty found that her new friend was dying, and though the was struck at her refignation, fhe could not forbear murmuring that fo good a woman fhould be taken away at the very instant which fhe came into poffeffion of so much money. Betty," faid Mrs. Simpson in a feeble voice, "I believe you love me "dearly, you would do any thing to cure me; yet you do not love me fo well as "God

"God loves me, though you would raise "me up, and He is putting a period to my "life. He has never fent me a single stroke "which was not abfolutely neceffary for "me. You, if you could restore me, might "be laying me open to fome temptation "from which God, by removing, will de"liver me. Your kindness in making this "world fo fmooth for me, I might for 66 ever have deplored in a world of misery. "God's grace in afflicting me, will here"after be the fubject of my praises in a "world of bleffedness. Betty," added the dying woman, "do you really think "that I am going to a place of rest and "joy eternal ?"—" To be fure I do," faid Betty." Do you firmly believe that "I am going to the affembly of the first "born; to the spirits of juft men made "perfect; to God the judge of all; and "to Jefus the Mediator of the new Cove"nant?"" I am fure you are," said Betty." And yet," refumed fhe, "you "would detain me from all this happiness; " and

Y 2