mirable letters subjoined contain the warmest effusions of piety, mingled with brotherly affection. Parr, in his own words, has given a simple, but impressive account, of the generous manner in which he acted; the letters will be lasting monuments of his zealous affection, his devout spirit, and of his unbounded confidence in the mercy of God.

MY DEAR, DEAR FRIEND,

I told you that I should write no more; and yet, contrary to my own engagements and your expectation, I have snatched up the pen to write now. Well, my dear Frank, I am very sure you will excuse me, and will attribute my conduct to that anxious, zealous regard, I always have felt, and always shall feel for you. I found Dr. Thomas at home, and sat with him more than half an hour. We had much and earnest conversa

not to write to you till I had received an answer from Dr. Thomas, your letter obliges me to take up my pen, (which, by the bye, is a very bad one,) and send you something like an answer to both yours. Your heartiness of expression convinces me that every moment is an age till you hear from me. To ease your anxiety take these few lines, and pray do not expect many more, for I know of no occurrence worthy of my insertion or your perusal, no account of my reading the oi avv, no material alteration in my health; my old complaints still remain, though, upon the whole, I am improved. Be not alarmed about my care of myself. Paddon is as unwilling to suggest any thing which might hurt me, as I am to attend to his suggestions. Gulliver's Travels, the daily papers, and the Dramatic Censor, are my studies. Of the two latter I will not say much; the former you will join me in admiring-there are many severe but just reflections in them. The weather is at present favourable. I ride every day. You shall hear from me soon, till which time adieu! God bless you, and reward you for your good offices to F. PARR.

tion about your unhappy case. He spoke to me with much freedom, opennesss, and candour; and, though I was extremely dejected at the purport of his declarations, I was highly pleased with their honesty. He charged me to keep up your spirits and my own; acknowledged your situation deplorable, but not desperate; and encouraged me, by very solid arguments, to look for some relief from the methods you now pursue. My dear friend, you know the bottom of my heart; and, if I have a thought there which you do not know, I shall suspect myself of ingratitude in desiring to conceal it from a man of your unsuspecting confidence and thorough integrity. You believe me, I suppose, to be a Christian. You believe me not to have taken up my faith upon a careless, superficial examination; not to keep or part with it at random-not to lay it down as an abstract truth defensible only in theory-but to consider it as a constant principle of action. That I have committed many mistakes, even with this steady, this hearty persuasion, that the Gospel is of Divine authority, I own with sorrow; but I am happy and proud to own, that my mistakes and faults would have been far greater without it. From this, my dear friend, from this I am seriously convinced, that Providence does rule over the world, and that all secondary events are under its disposal; and that, what we unphilosophically call a particular interposition, makes, in reality, only one part of the general administration. I am convinced, too, that the Almighty is ever ready to succour those who call on him with resignation to his will, and trust in his mercy; and that he can bend the course of things to an accomplishment of his purposes, by means as much above our comprehension, as they are for ends conducive to our happiness. Under this sense, I look for success from the earthly endeavours we are making for your recovery; and, for the same reason, I pray God to bless by his favour those means which he directs by his wisdom. Under this sense, you doubtless comfort yourself with the hopes of receiving relief, and at the same time look up for success only to the hand of heaven. I know not how it came about; last Saturday, my dear friend, I went to London with a full resolution to open my bosom, and to talk with you both seriously and copiously about the concerns of another life. Such a conversation would certainly

have been not inconsistent with my Clerical character. It would have been not improper from one who has that hearty, earnest affection to all your interests, that I pay to yours. I would have been not offensive to a man of your sound understanding and firm faith. Yet my unwillingness to deject you got the better of all my determinations, and I kept the secrets fast up within my bosom, which have now found their way in this letter. In a word, my dear fellow Christian, let me beg of you to think earnestly of another state. If it is at hand, such thoughts are peculiarly seasonable: if it is far distant, they yet become your present situation. These are moments in which I cannot stoop to trifle or dissemble with you. I should disdain to dissemble myself. I should be angry if, in such circumstances, you from benevolence should wish to deceive me. I know the common cant of—it will make him low-it can do him no good -poor soul, he wants to be comforted -I know, and despise it. If you are unfit for another life, it is high time to rouse you from your lethargy; if you are fit, it is the only prospect that ought to employ your attention, because the only one that can deserve it. Ah, my friend! address your prayers to Almighty God in the name of his Son; beg his mercy to all the follies and irregularities of your youth.

Without sorrow you cannot repent. Without repentance you cannot be saved. With it you will have comfort here and joy hereafter. My dear Frank, I beg of you again and again, approach in thought and prayer that God, before whom we must all at some time or other appear; before whom it may be our lot to appear very soon. But why should we be shocked? Christianity unfolds futurity in every cheering, every delightful representation; it shews the mercy of our God and the love of our Saviour. It shews that through the Gospel covenant, even our imperfect services shall be accepted, and our numberless sins forgiven. It shews us that you and I, with all our follies and all our faults, may, I trust, humbly trust we shall, meet in Heaven, never, never to be separated; more virtuous, more fond, more friendly yours, my dear Frank,

S. PARR.

Do not wonder at my greediness to snatch the very few moments, which our gracious and wise Father will perhaps allow us to have in this world. Oh, my friend! may his boundless mercy, may the merits and intercession of his most blessed Son, bring us together in a future life, never, never, to be separated. You know, Frank, that I have always looked on this scene as only preparatory to another; and indeed there is no one object in it, that bears comparatively any value in my sight, but the friendship of some good men, and yours very far above all others. Yet, my soul, the very consideration which makes me as a man more reluctant to lose you, ought to give me as a Christian the highest pleasure. God is my witness, that I do not flatter you; but your goodness of heart, your soundness of faith, all, all conspire to tie you to my heart, and to fix me your friend. Such virtue I never have found; I never can find. Heaven give me grace to be thankful for it, grace to imitate it, and to share with you in the final reward of our labours. Our present situation calls upon me to speak in this serious manner. When I weigh together what I have seen of your case, and what I have heard of it from your physician, my soul breaks loose from every comfort, by which religion ought to bind me; and is plunged into extreme and agonizing despair. But this state of mind is not lasting. I am able to collect my disordered thoughts; to fix my warm heart; and to rest my whole and sincere confidence in the infinite, inconceivable goodness of the Supreme. Such is the weakness of nature, that I cannot be quite easy; it is true I have great trust in the kindness of God, and in the efficacy of a Saviour's intercession. I look forward with exultation to the joys which are treasured up for you, and with trembling hope make part of them my own. Yet the tear will drop, and the heart will ache. Oh my dear, dear Frank, oh were that day arrived to both of us, when every sigh shall be stopped, and every evil done away, and our souls lifted up from this vale of sorrow to boundless and heavenly joy. Let me open myself yet further to you. Should it please God to deprive me of you, I know it is my duty, through his grace it shall be my endeavour, to bear the stroke. But if it falls, I shall, I shall, my friend, have no wishes to continue my hopes, my thoughts, will follow, and I shall long, perhaps impatiently

long, for that hour, which shall restore us to each other, and bring us to our God. My prayers, my dear friend, I do not fail to offer up in behalf of your body and soul; I dare say you do the same for me. May the Almighty, for his dear Son's sake, hear us both, save, preserve, bless us, for ever.

I hope to get the towels ready in a day or two. Pray make yourself easy, my heart, about all money, and claim mine. as your own. Let no false pride, no superfluous delicacy, no unfriendly, unmanly, unchristian suspicions, keep you from repeating your demands. "Greater love," says our Saviour, "than this has no man, than that a man should lay down his life for his friend." God is my judge that I would most readily, most contentedly, most gladly die, for you, my dear, dear soul! Can I then refuse you any thing else? We have a common interest here, a common hope hereafter, Heaven grant our friendship to last to all eternity. If the towels are ready, you will perhaps see me for an hour or two on Thursday or Friday evening. Write a line by to-night's post. Write, if it be only a line. Pray eat three or four jellies a day. Pray take care of yourself. I commend you to the great God and his most gracious Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. Through his mediation and intercession may we live long on earth, and meet in Heaven! Yours, my friend, sincerely and affectionately, SAMUEL PArr.

My distraction, dear Frank, grows intolerable. My eyes are sometimes raised to Heaven with humble and pious confidence-they are in a moment sunk down to the earth, and all hope, all comfort, vanish from before me. Now I feel the weakness of human nature, and the emptiness of human knowledge; now I feel the consolations which religion only can offer, which it has offered, and does offer to me, under the expectation of a calamity more dreadful to me than death. For what, my dear soul, what have I to lose by the resignation of a life whose pleasures have been mostly borrowed from the prospect of futurity, and whose very capacity of bestowing happiness is destroyed when you, the last, best gift of my God, art torn from me. Be not shocked-we are men-we are Chris