ther; it becomes broad day, and after that the sun rises.

Your part is to pray to him, to hear his word, and to listen with attention when you hear it preached. I trust you will find your light increase, and your difficulties abate: I wish you to be as cheerful and easy as possible. Cheerfulness is no sin, nor is there any grace in a solemn cast of countenance.On the other hand, I would not have you light or giddy with levity; it will hurt your own spirit, and hinder you from the pursuit of what in your serious moments you most desire. I know your natural spirits are changeable; sometimes they are highly volatile: I would have you correct them by thinking you are a sinner. Sometimes you are grave enough; but if you feel uneasy, then try to think what a Saviour you read of. Be sure you do not indulge a hard thought of him, as though he were severe, and stern, and ready to take advantage of you. Form your ideas of him from the accounts the evangelists give you, that he was meek and lowly when upon earth, full of compassion and gentleness, ready to pity, to heal, to help, and to teach all who come to him; and they will tell you that he had in particular a great love for children. He tells you so himself. You read how he took them in his arms, put his hands on them, and blessed them. When you think of this, shake off gloomy thoughts, speak to him in your heart, and say, Lord bless me too.

One of the best methods of keeping free from uneasy, troublesome thoughts, at least of lessening them, is to be always employed; strive and pray against indolence, look upon it as a hurtful, yea, a sinful thing. Read in English and French, write and work. Your mamma and I will be both willing you should diversify these employments as may be

most agreeable to your own inclination; but we wish not to see you idle. Now is the time of life for you to acquire useful knowledge, that you may make yourself agreeable, and that you may be useful and qualified to fill up that station in the world which the Lord may allot you. I will gladly assist you as much as I can, in what falls under my department; but you know I have but little time.God has given you a good capacity, and therefore the less assistance will be necessary, if you are not wanting to yourself. You may depend on our doing what we can to make you happy. If we seem to cross your wishes sometimes, or not to comply with your desire, you may be sure we have some reason for it. You shall go out with us, as often as we think it will be proper and right; and we shall not leave you at home for our own pleasure, but because it would not be good for you to be too much abroad. We expect and hope you will be ruled by a hint or a word; and then you will find us studious in contriving how to make every thing as agreeable as possible to you. Because you desired a letter soon, I have written thus much, although I had other things to do, and it is preaching morning. I shall hope for a letter from you very much! The Lord bless you.

I am, my dear child,

Your affectionate father..

LETTER VII.

October 17, 1781.

MY DEAR CHILD,

I SEND you the first letter; in future you 'must not expect me to write but in answer to yours. We wish to hear soon that you are well, and that

you like your situation. I do not wish you to like any place so well as home: upon one account you ought not; for it is impossible any persons should ever love you so well as your mamma and I do ; and therefore you are bound to love us dearly, and that will make you love home; and the more you love home, the more diligent you will be in the improvement of your time at school. For your return to us must in a great measure depend upon yourself; it is no pleasure to us to send you abroad. I thought for a day or two the house looked awkward without you, and I miss you a little every day still; but we are forced to part with you for your own good. I cannot bear the thoughts of your growing up like a tall weed; I want you to appear like a pretty flower; and it is observable that the best of flowers in a garden would in time degenerate into tawdry weeds if they were not cultivated: such is the importance of education to children. The Lord has been good to you; he has given you good understanding and natural abilities-and much that is engaging in your disposition. It would be a great pity that, with all these advantages, you should prove only a weed. To prevent it, I was obliged to transplant you from London to H- where I hope you will thrive and flourish, increasing in wisdom and favour as you increase in stature.

I have written you many letters in a religious strain, which I hope you have preserved, and will now and then read them over, the more willingly perhaps because your papa wrote them. I would not overdo you upon this subject; though the truth is, this is my chief desire for you, that you may know the Lord and love him; if not, though you were accomplished and admired beyond any of your age, and though you could live in all the splendour of a queen, I should weep over you; I should lament your birth, and the

day when you first came under my care. But I know that I cannot make you truly religious, nor can you make yourself so. It is the Lord's work, and I am daily praying him to bless you indeed. But he has a time; till then, I hope you will wait upon him according to your light, in the use of his appointed means, that you will make conscience of praying to him, and reading his word, and hearing when you have opportunity. I hope he will enable you to behave obediently and affectionately to your governess, and in an obliging manner to all around you, so as to gain their love and esteem. I hope you will likewise carefully abstain from whatever you know to be wrong. Thus far I may hope you can go at present; but I do not wish you to affect more of religion in your appearance, than you are really conscious of. There is some danger of this in a family where a religious profession is befriended. Young people are apt to imitate those about them, and sometimes (which is abominable) to put on a show of religion in order to please, though their hearts have no concern in it. I have a good hope that the Lord will teach you, and guide you, and that the many prayers and praises I have offered on your behalf will not be lost.

When I began my letter, I did not mean to write half so gravely, I rather thought to find something to divert you; but you are very near my heart, and this makes me serious. I long to come and see you; but it cannot be yet, nor can I say when: but I shall bounce in upon you some day when perhaps you are not thinking of me.

MY DEAR CHILD,

LETTER VIII.

November 10, 1781.

WHEN your mamma and I come to see you, it must be on a Monday, for more reasons than one; which it is not necessary for you to know: and as there is but one Monday in a week, something or other may prevent oftener than I wish. However I promise to think of you when I cannot see you, and sometimes we talk of you. "Christmas will soon be here; then 66 we shall have her at home, and then who knows "but she will be so improved, and behave so nicely, "that we shall be sorry to part with her again.” When we talk thus, I hope you will make good what we say.

Lately, for about a week, I was attacked by a company of pains. Some seized my face and teeth, some took possession of my back, and some got into my sides; but they are all gone now, and they did me no harm. You know little about pains and cares yet. You are now at the time of life when you are especially called upon to remember your Creator and Redeemer, and have the greatest advantages for doing it. But, if your life is spared, to you likewise the days will come when you will say, "I have no pleasure in them." But I hope long before they come, you will have some experience of pleasures which do not at all depend upon youth or health, or any thing that this world can either give or take away. Seek the Lord, and you shall live; and you have not far to seek for him he is very near you; he is all around you; about your bed by night, and your path by day. He sees, he notices all you say and do. But I do not wish you to

: