thew. "Christ did not condemn; therefore he approved:" to which I reply, non valet consequentia : ten thousand enormities prevailed in his day, which he did not condemn by name, but he did not therefore authorize the least of them. And is it not a strange supposition that He should leave his disciples ignorant of what Mr. Madan accounts so great a privilege for eighteen centuries, and at last raise up the gentleman in question to restore it, and him so little qualified after all for the purpose, that he cannot support his doctrine? The Spirit was promised, and the Spirit in due time was given, to lead his disciples into all truth: and the history of the Christian Church proves from the beginning to the present hour, that amongst other truths He has constantly taught them this: that it is unseemly for the followers of so holy a Master to allow themselves more wives than one, a custom for which nothing but the gratification of appetite can be honestly and fairly pleaded. The question is not "Was polygamy lawful to a Jew?" which nobody will dispute; but "is it lawful to a Christian?" Till he can prove the affirmative, towards which he has yet done nothing, he had better be quiet. He only disturbs the peace of families, puts the most valuable part of the sex to the torture, and disgraces himself. We are sorry for little William's illness. It is however the privilege of infancy to recover almost immediately what it has lost by sickness. We are sorry too for Mr. Thornton's dangerous condition. But he that is well prepared for the great journey cannot enter on it too soon for himself, though his friends will weep at his departure. Your sister is well, and joins with me and your mother in affectionate remembrance of all at Stock. We send you a cheese, In hopes it will please : Yours, W. C. 'MY DEAR SIR, TO THE REV. WILLIAM BULL. Wednesday, June, 1782. I AM glad you have read the plan three times with great pleasure; it is a sign that you have pretty well overcome your fears about the execution of it; for fear hath torment, and is therefore incompatible with pleasure. I would willingly send you the lines that proceed from the lips of my snuff-box, were it possible, but alas! they are no longer in being. I am a severer critic upon myself than you would imagine, and have the singular knack of being out of humour with every thing, or almost every thing I write, when it is about nine days old; accordingly I have used them,-no matter how;-but Bentley himself could not have treated them with more indignity. I thank you for your kind remembrance of me, and wish always to live in your esteem and affection. I shall do so, no doubt, till you discover, as you will, that I have no right to either. I would send Mr. 's lines, but the letter is lost in a large bundle of others from the same hand, and I have not time to seek it. Whether it be what I approve myself or not, or whatever it be, I promise you a copy of what I write next; and am, in the mean time, with Mrs. Unwin's and Mrs. Powley's best respects, Yours, WM. C. TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. MY DEAR FRIEND, July 16, 1782. THOUGH some people pretend to be clever in the way of prophetical forecast, and to have a peculiar talent of sagacity, by which they can divine the meaning of a providential dispensation while its consequences are yet in embryo, I do not. There is at this time to be found I suppose in the cabinet, and in both houses, a greater assemblage of able men, both as speakers and counsellors, than ever were contemporary in the same land. A man not accustomed to trace the workings of Providence, as recorded in Scripture, and that has given no attention to this particular subject, while employed in the study of profane history, would assert boldly that it is a token for good, that much may be expected from them, and that the country, though heavily afflicted, is not yet to be despaired of, distinguished as she is by so many characters of the highest class. Thus he would say; and I do not deny that the event might justify his skill in prognostics. God works by means, and in a case of great national perplexity and distress, wisdom and political ability seem to be the only natural means of deliverance. But a mind more religiously inclined, and perhaps a little s. c. 4. Q tinctured with melancholy, might with equal probability of success, hazard a conjecture directly opposite. Alas! what is the wisdom of man, especially when he trusts in it as the only God of his confidence? When I consider the general contempt that is poured upon all things sacred, the profusion, the dissipation, the knavish cunning of some, the rapacity of others, and the impenitence of all; I am rather inclined to fear that God, who honours himself by bringing human glory to shame, and by disappointing the expectations of those whose trust is in creatures, has signalized the present day as a day of much human sufficiency and strength, has brought together from all quarters of the land the most illustrious men to be found in it, only that he may prove the vanity of idols, and that when a great empire is falling, and he has pronounced a sentence of ruin against it, the inhabitants, be they weak or strong, wise or foolish, must fall with it. I am the rather confirmed in this persuasion, by observing that these luminaries of the state had no sooner fixed themselves in the political heaven, than the fall of the brightest of them shook all the rest. The arch of their power was no sooner struck than the keystone slipped out of its place; those that were closest in connexion with it followed, and the whole building, new as it is, seems to be already a ruin. If a man should hold this language, who could convict him of absurdity? The Marquis of Rockingham is minister ; all the world rejoices, anticipating success in war, and a glorious peace. The Marquis of Rockingham is dead; all the world is afflicted, and relapses into its former despondence. What does this prove, but that the Marquis was their Almighty, and that now he is gone, they know no other? But let us wait a little, they will find another; perhaps the Duke of Portland, or perhaps the unpopular Shelburne, whom they now represent as a devil, may obtain that honour. Thus God is forgot; and when he is, his judgements are generally his remembrancers. How shall I comfort you upon the subject of your present distress? Pardon me that I find myself obliged to smile at it, because who but yourself would be distressed upon such an occasion? You have behaved politely, and like a gentleman; you have hospitably offered your house to a stranger, who could not, in your neighbourhood at least, have been comfortably accommodated any where else. He, by neither refusing nor accepting an offer that did him too much honour, has disgraced himself, but not you. I think for the future you must be more cautious of laying yourself open to a stranger, and never again expose yourself to incivilities from an archdeacon you are not acquainted with. Though I did not mention it, I felt with you what you suffered by the loss of Miss Ord. I was only silent because I could minister no consolation to you on such a subject, but what I knew your mind to be already stored with. Indeed, the application of comfort in such cases is a nice business, and perhaps when best managed might as well be let alone. I remember reading many years ago a long treatise on the subject of consolation, written in French; the author's name I forget, but I wrote these words in the margin :-" Special consolation! at least for a Frenchman, who is a |