XI.

TO MR. HEWITT FYSH, CAMBERWELL,

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. FYSH.

My dear Friend,

Shelford, March 11, 1804.

I deeply sympathize with you in the great loss you have sustained by the decease of your most excellent wife. It is a stroke which will be long felt by all her surviving friends; how much more by a person with whom she was so long and so happily united! There are many considerations, however, which must occur to your mind, in alleviation of your distress. The dear deceased had long been rendered incapable, by the severity of her affliction, of enjoying life; and a farther extension of it would have been but a prolongation of woe. Much as her friends must regret her loss, to have been eagerly solicitous for her continuance here would have been a refined selfishness, rather than true friendship. She was spared for the kindest purposes; to exemplify the power of religion in producing a cheerful resignation to the will of God, through a long series of suffering, to a degree which I never saw equalled in any other instance. There was the faith and patience of the saints. Her graces were most severely tried, and surely never did any shine brighter. The most active and zealous services in religion could not have yielded more glory to God than the dignified composure, the unruffled tranquillity, and the unaltered sweetness, she maintained amidst her trials. O, my

dear friend, let the image of her virtues be ever impressed on your heart, and ever improved as an incentive to that close walk with God which laid the foundation of all her excellence. To have had an opportunity of contemplating the influence of genuine religion so intimately, and under so interesting a form, is a privilege which falls to the lot of few, and is surely one of the most inestimable advantages we can possess. That she was spared to you so long; that her patience continued unexhausted amidst so severe a pressure; and, above all, that you have so well-grounded an assurance of her happiness, must fill you with a grateful sense of the divine goodness. This state is designed to be a mingled scene, in which joy and sorrow, serenity and storms, take their turns. A perpetuity of either would be unsuitable to us. An uninterrupted series of prosperity would fill us with worldly passions. An unbroken continuity of adversity would unfit us for exertion. The spirit would fail before him, and the souls which he hath made. Pain and pleasure, scenes of satisfaction and sorrow, are admirably attempered with each other; so as to give us constant room for thankfulness, and yet to remind us that this is not our rest. Our dear and invaluable friend has entered into the world of perfect spirits, to which she made so near an approach during her continuance here. To a mind so refined, and exercised in the school of affliction, so resigned to the divine will, and so replete with devotion and benevolence, how

easy and delightful was the transition! To her to live was Christ, and to die was gain. Let us improve this dispensation of Providence, by imitating her example; let us cherish her memory with reverential tenderness; and consider it as an additional call to all we have received before, to seek the things that are above. I confess the thought of so dear a friend having left this world, makes an abatement of its value in my estimation, as I doubt not it will still more in yours. The thought of my journey to London gives me little or no pleasure: for I shall hear the accents of that voice which so naturally expressed the animation of benevolence-I shall behold that countenance which displayed so many amiable sentiments-no more. But can we wish her

back? Can we wish to recall her from that blissful society which she has joined, and where she is singing a new song? No, my dear friend! you will not be so selfish. You will, I trust, aspire with greater ardour than ever after the heavenly world, and be daily imploring fresh supplies of that grace which will fit you for an everlasting union with our deceased friend. I hope her amiable nieces will profit by this expressive event. And as they have (blessed be God for it!) begun to seek after Sion with their faces thitherward, that they will walk forward with additional firmness and alacrity. I shall make little or no stay in London on my first journey; but, as I long to see you, will spend the 11th instant (that is, the

evening preceding my engagement to preach,) at your house, if agreeable. I shall be glad to see Mr. Dore, but pray do not ask strangers.

You have probably heard of the project of a new Review, called the Eclectic Review, which is intended to counteract the irreligious bias which seems to attach to almost all literary journals. Whether a sufficient number of persons of real talents can be procured to give it permanent credit and support, appears to me very doubtful. Mr. Greathead has written to request my assistance, and I intend occasionally to write in it. I have at the same time taken the liberty to mention Mr. Gregory, as a person admirably adapted to conduct the mathematical and astronomical department, if he can be persuaded. Mr. Greathead has accordingly requested me to write to you on this subject, and to assure you that your assistance will be most welcome, and the terms your own. I really think a review of the kind proposed would be a public

benefit; as the cause of piety and moderate orthodoxy stands no chance at present. Will you permit me to inform Mr. Greathead, to whom it is left to treat with writers, that you are willing to contribute to it in the line of mathematics and natural philosophy?

XIII.

TO WILLIAM HOLLICK, ESQ. OF WHITTLESFORD, NEAR CAMBRIDGE.

ON HIS OWN RECOVERY FROM A SEVERE MALADY.

My dear Friend,

Leicester, Feb. 26, 1805.

I thought it would be some satisfaction to you, to hear that I continue, through the blessing of God, perfectly well. My health, through divine mercy, was never better; nor can I be sufficiently thankful to that good Providence which has recovered me from the gates of death. Motives for gratitude crowd in upon me on every side; and the most I have to complain of is, that my heart is so little alive to their impression.

When, my dear Sir, we look back upon past life, what a series of evidences present themselves of a presiding and parental care! With what propriety may we adopt the language of David: "Bless the