which is but for a moment, shall work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!"

The things that are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. There is nothing permanent or lasting in this world, and the tall oak is as easily cut down by the hand of Omnipotence as the plant is plucked up. I feel myself growing weak, and must therefore conclude. May that gracious God who has thought proper to afflict you, continue to support you under this and every other trial, till you arrive at last in the kingdom, where the wicked cease from troubling, and where the weary are at rest, is the sincere prayer of

Your most affectionate friend.

LETTER XLVIII.

From a young Woman to a Lady with whom she had formerly lived as a Companion.

MADAM,

The precipitate manner in which I left your family, may seem inconsistent with the great tenderness you always treated me with. To remove, therefore, every imputation of ingratitude, I embrace this first opportunity of appearing in my own vindication, although, for your sake, I am sorry to descend to particulars, especially to mention names. But my reputation, which is dearer to me than life itself, is at stake, and as a woman, I doubt not but you will bear with me.

When I first came into your service, I was determined to act in such a manner as not to give any offence to the meanest of your domestics; well knowing that good nature and affability always procure respect; and I appeal to every person in your family, whether my conduct was not consistent with my plan. In this manner I remained, enjoying an uninterrupted state of felicity for some time. I obeyed your commands with alacrity; and even servitude became a pleasure. But this was too happy a state to last long without interruption. But I scarce know how to proceed. Whilst I am vindicating my own conduct to my most generous benefactress, I am obliged to impeach that of her dearest and most beloved relation.

When your son George returned from the university, where he had been finishing his studies, I had no thoughts that he would ever have made an attempt on my virtue. But alas! I was wretchedly deceived. He had only been a few days at home, when he laid hold of every opportunity of being in my company. At first I did not take any notice, as I had not the least suspicion of his intentions. But I was soon convinced of my error, when he told me, that in consequence of my prostituting myself to his unlawful pleasure, he would make me a handsome settlement. This, madam, was a strong temptation, but blessed be God who preserved .. me innocent. You have often told me, that young women ought to fly from every appearance of sin; and if so, how great was my ne cessity of avoiding the evil. Had I laid snares

to entrap your son for a husband, it might have destroyed your own peace of mind, and been considered as a dishonour to your family. Had I submitted to his unlawful desires, I should have forfeited every title to respect in the world, and highly offended that God who has graciously preserved me hitherto. He became more and more assiduous, till for his, for your's and for my sake, I was obliged to retire in as silent a manner as possible. I am now in the house of a distant relation in Milbank, who takes in plain work, where I hope your ladyship will be pleased to send my clothes. With respect to wages, you know I always left that to your own discretion, and your humanity exceeded my utmost expectations. Therefore, I again leave that matter to yourself. Let me beg, that if you mention this unhappy affair to the young gentleman, it may be with your usual tenderness. I would willingly impute his folly to the irregularities of youthful passion, rather than to any premeditated scheme; and I doubt not when reason re-assumes her throne in his heart, he will be sorry that ever he attempted to ruin one who was scarce worthy of his notice.

I am, Madam,

With gratitude and respect,
Your affectionate well-wisher.
F

LETTER XLIX.

The Lady's Answer.

DEAR BETTY,

Whilst I lament the conduct of my unhappy child, I lift up my eyes with thankfulness to that gracious being who has preserved you from ruin. You was left an orphan under my care; and when I first took you into my family, it was with a design to promote your interest. Blessed be God, that the precepts which I endeavoured to instil into your tender mind, have so far operated on your conduct. Your behaviour in that unhappy affair ought to be laid down as a pattern for all young women to copy after, if they would either be respected in this world, or enjoy happiness in the next. I have just been reading your letter to my son, and he was filled with the utmost shame and confusion. The truth of your narrative forced his conscience to make a genuine confession of his guilt; and unless I judge with the partiality of a mother, he is really a sincere penitent. I laid open to him the nature of his crime, and its aggravating circumstances arising from the obligations which his elevated rank subjected him to, to be an example of virtue to those in a lower sphere of life. I told him, that however trifling such actions might appear in the eyes of his graceless companions, yet there was a God who beheld his inmost thoughts, and would reward or punish him, according to his merits. He declares himself fully sensible of his folly, and says he is determined never to

attempt any such thing for the future. The bearer will deliver your clothes, together with a bank note of a hundred pounds. Be assured of my constant assistance; and may that God who has preserved you in such imminent danger, be your continual comfort in time and in eternity!

I am your sincere well-wisher.

LETTER L.

From a Lady to her Friend, whose Lover had basely left her, and married another.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Our expectation of happiness is generally so ill placed, that it is no wonder we meet with perpetual disappointments. When our choice arises from passion, we have so very blind a guide as will inevitably lead us to destruction; for though love appears then gentlest, yet our affections are so much the right of our Creator, that as often as we fix them immoderately upon any of the fading objects here below, we are certainly guilty of sacrilege to the Divine Goodness, which fault is commonly punished by the very thing we doat on. This, I doubt not, has been your case, and not your's alone; for soon or late, few escape that mischief, especially amongst our weaker sex, whose tender nature leaves them most exposed to ruin; and though they see others shipwrecked before their eyes, will yet venture out to sea on the same bottom, insensible of danger, till they perish, and often fall unpitied.