I told him that the way of life followed by those people, if it be viewed in the most favourable light, must be considered as an endeavour to approach the divine presence in a different way from that which has been appointed; and that notwithstanding the name of Christ is not entirely omitted in their religion, yet in general, as well as among protestants, it is only used as an auxiliary to their own inventions.

He then asked my opinion concerning purgatory.

I answered, that that also was invented to supersede the redemption which is by Christ Jesus, by pretending that it is possible for sinners to be purged from their guilt by their own sufferings.

My dear friend, cried he, what you have told me I know to be the truth. Where have I been, and what have I been doing all my life time?

You have been doing, Sir, replied I, that which millions of men called Christians do all their days. But it is your infinite mercy that God has stopped you in your career, while thousands around you are left in blindness and unbelief.

Miss Barnwell, said he, you will insensibly lead me to believe the doctrines of election and reprobation, which I have looked upon to be so dishonourable to God, that I have frequently thought I could sooner become an atheist than believe them. They have always appeared to me to be unworthy of a merciful God, and discouraging to poor sinners.

Their being discouraging to sinners, Sir, replied I, is in my humble opinion an excellency; since they only discourage them from seeking to be justified by their own righteousness. They discourage no one from coming to God for mercy, as the prodigal went to his father, or from crying out with the publican, God be merciful to me a sinner. It is indeed a certain truth that the elect only will be saved; but then it is also equally certain that whosoever believes the gospel, and applies to God for mercy, will be saved.

The judge of the whole earth, said he, must do the thing that is right. Vain man would be wise and independent of his Creator. How little did I think that I should.

stoop to be taught by the daughter of Mr. Barnwell! God has determined that the loftiness of man shall be made low. Had I known but half what I do now, I should not have persecuted that amiable young lady. But God has taken her to himself: henceforth may it be my ambition to follow her to the regions of immortality.

I can say but little concerning Mr. Neville. He frequently rides about the fields, or walks in the wilderness. He speaks but seldom, seems averse to company, and when in the house is chiefly in his study. The loss of his daughter is a stroke which he is scarcely able to bear. When he hears that his son and daughter, as well as his priest, have left the church of Rome, it is impossible to foresee what will be the consequence. Mr. William Neville and his sister desire their kind respects to you, as does,

Dear Madam, your affectionate niece,

MIRANDA BARNWELL.

LETTER XLIX.

From Signior Albino to Mr. Neville.

MY VERY DEAR PATRON,

I did not think the time would ever arrive when I should dread a verbal communication of any thing I should have to say to you; yet that is now the case. You have blamed me with too much reason for being the cause of your daughter's death: a daughter who had not her equal in the world; the guilt, the shame, and the sorrow, will be for ever mine.

O my dear friend, if you did but know how much I have suffered on that account, you would think me an ob ject of your compassion. Alas, the deed is done never to be recalled, and I can only pray that the sin may not be laid to my charge!

My thoughts concerning that excellent young lady are the reverse of what they were. When the truths of God

flowed from her lips, my heart was as hard as adamant, and my ears were like those of the deaf adder that will not attend to the voice of the charmer.

You wished me, Sir, to read the correspondence between her and her friends, that I might be the more able to judge concerning the everlasting state of your justly beloved child. I acknowledged to my shame, that I complied with your request with a determination to reprobate every thing which it contained, entertaining no doubt of the truth of my own sentiments, and of the fallacy, and damnable nature of theirs.

I accordingly read the whole and some of the letters several times over: but how shall I relate the effect? I can never forget it. I soon perceived that my confidence had been equalled only by my ignorance; and that, with the malice and rage of an infernal spirit, I have been crucifying Christ afresh in the person of my own child; for so I esteemed your angelic daughter.

I have no doubt, Sir, that you will, yea, that you have forgiven me: but I shall never forgive myself. Mine is a crime of the blackest dye; and I should have been entirely without hope of forgiveness, if the providence of God had not informed me, through the same medium, that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin. I have been stripped of all my former confidence, and now lie as a beggar at the door of divine mercy. I ought to confess that it is doubtful whether I possess one sentiment of a religious kind that I entertained before. Even the God I adored was the creature of my own imagination. It becomes me not, therefore, to expect better treatment from yoù, than your excellent child received from me. With what measure ye mete, said our Lord, it shall be measured to you again.

I cannot contemplate religious establishments without horror. Christianity could never have been so corrupted, had it not been for the bloody alliance between church and state. Since I read the correspondence, I have read the New Testament, and am amazed that I could think myself a Christian. O thou despised Son of God, what reason hast thou to be ashamed of me, and of millions who are called by thy name; Christians without thy spirit; Christians, ignorant of thy truth, ignorant of the first principles

of thy soul-reviving religion! What would I not do, what would I not suffer, if my friend could but see with my new eyes! Though an old man, I am become a child. I am learning the rudiments of Christianity. Hitherto I have been a cumberer of the ground;-an enemy to God, to Christ, to his Spirit, to his word, to his children. I ought to abhor myself in dust and ashes.

Having been called at the eleventh hour out of Egypt, Babylon, and Sodom, to labour in the Lord's vineyard, I am under the greatest obligation to spend my little remaining time in glorifying him. The sacred volume shall be my only guide, Henceforth I will not engage in any religious worship which is not clearly pointed out in the NewTestament. Only prove to me, my dear Sir, that any doctrine is taught, or any practice commanded in the oracles of truth, or that any form of church government is recorded in the New Testament to have been used by the apostles, and you shall find me all submission. I lately thought that I knew every thing, and that wisdom would die with me. I now desire to sit at the feet of the Saviour, and to learn of him.

It is not every one who saith to the Redeemer, Lord, Lord, that will enter into the kingdom of heaven; nor indeed any but those who do the will of their Father who is in heaven. If you should ask me where that will is revealed, or who has made it known, almighty truth obliges me to confess, that we shall in vain look for it in the decrees of popes or of general councils, or even in the fathers, and still less in tradition; for I am convinced that these have all of them not only contradicted one another, but themselves likewise.

The will of God, as it respects the faith and obedience of a Christian, is no where to be found pure and uncorrupted except in the Scriptures: and there the way to the heavenly Canaan is delineated so plainly that the wayfaring man, though a fool, cannot err therein.

What would I not give to have my friend see things as I do now? I pray continually for him, and that is all I can do.

We have been educated in the bosom of error. There certainly is a way which seemeth right unto a man; that

way we have trodden from our youth; but the end thereof are the ways of death.

What but the power of God could have overcome my prejudice? That power could do it. When he works, the most obstinate resistance is like setting up thorns and briars to oppose the progress of a devouring fire.

I could not but write what I have written. I am at Mr. Grove's. If I do not there receive a letter of consolation, I do not know that I shall dare to see you or your family any more. I am, my ever dear patron,

Your sincere friend,

And very humble servant,

ANTONIO ALBINO.

LETTER L.

From Mr. Neville to Father Albino.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

I RECEIVED your letter, but never was more surpris ed than when I read it. Is this, said I, that heroic champion of the catholic church, who if he thought he had a drop of heretical blood in his heart would let it out? How unstable a thing is man! Well might my dear angel say to her persecuting sister, when she reproached her for changing her sentiments, It is not for mortals to say what they will do, or what they will be.

I have been again reading the correspondence between my child and her friends. It breathes a divine spirit. O what a child I once had! She was an unfit companion for you and me. She walked with God, like Enoch; and he has taken her from a world which was unworthy of her. It is a sad consideration, that, like the kind and dutiful daughter of Jephthah, she should fall a sacrifice to the superstition of her own father. Her friends too are different persons from what I expected. I have hitherto looked upon protestants either as enthusiasts, or as men destitute of religion; but it is wrong to judge of people in the gross. VOL. II.

D