be sometimes grievously attacked, and shaken, and ready to fail. Such seasons become doubly trying, when our evidences are at the same time clouded, divine consolations suspended, and communion with God interrupted. But however distressing these may be, they are a good sign of the existence of spiritual life, and of the exercise of spiritual senses. Whatever may be the nature of God's dealings with us, of this one thing we may rest assured, that he is good, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever; and will be found always true to his covenant with his people. When, then, our faith is at the weakest, let us be careful not to let go our hold of the Saviour. The guilt of sin seems not the only thing that distresses you; you complain also of the deceitfulness of your heart, of frequent revoltings and wanderings from God. Do you not think that these complaints are the language of all who are brought out of the captivity of Satan into the glorious liberty of the children of God? Believe it, they are; and read, for your comfort, what severe conflicts even the apostle Paul himself had, as he tells us in Rom. vii. from verse 7. to the end; and I am sure, that whoever has any knowledge of the plague of his own heart, must earnestly cry out with him, O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' But are these struggles with sin a proof that a person has no saving grace? Quite the contrary. They are a convincing evidence that he is born of God, and that the new nature is striving for victory over the old, which is sure to fight hard to attain the ascendency, and to give the soul much uneasiness before it will own itself conquered. The most advanced disciple in the school of Christ, will have cause to mourn over that corrupt nature which so continually fights against grace, and

which even brings him into captivity to the law of sin. Be not discouraged, I therefore beseech you. You are fighting the good fight of faith, which has been done by every believer from the creation of the world to this present moment; and you have the same Jesus-the same Captain of Salvation present with you, and the same precious promises, that in the end you shall be more than conqueror, through him who hath loved you, and redeemed you by his blood. Think, O think of Jesus on Mount Calvary! There did he satisfy, completely satisfy, divine justice! There the heavy blow which should otherwise have fallen upon us, fell upon his innocent head! The blood of the New Covenant is shed-it has made propitiation for our sins that precious blood, far from crying for vengeance, like the blood of Abel, merits and demands, and obtains for us everlasting life. The reason why we do not hear our worldly acquaintances complaining of their corruptions, is plain,—they are led captive by Satan at his will. They are ignorant of their disease, consequently careless of their remedy; they are under the dominion of sin; and though slaves to corruptions, yet they hug their chains. Is this the case with you? O no, blessed be God! from what you wrote me, I am sure it is not. You see yourself by nature a child of wrath, and that in you dwelleth no good thing; and you find in find in you a principle of grace making war against the natural principle of corruption which is in you and in every child of Adam; and this is an indisputable proof that you are quickened by the Spirit of God. You have no reason to doubt, therefore, that God is carrying on an effectual work of grace in your soul, and giving you an experimental knowledge of divine things, with which otherwise you could not be acquainted. I cannot conclude without again entreat

ing you, my dear friend, to cast yourself entirely on the Lord Jesus. Trust him for the salvation you need, and while you do this, you will never fail. It pleased the Father that all fulness should dwell in him, therefore go to him for all spiritual blessings."

Lady Glenorchy left Bath in the spring; and after making some stay in Edinburgh, according to her usual custom, went early in the summer to Taymouth. At this time, in addition to her domestic trials, she was visited with a very severe affliction, by the loss of her only sister, and which was much enhanced by the melancholy circumstances that attended it. Lord and Lady Sutherland had two children; Lady Catherine, born the 24th of May 1764, and Lady Elizabeth, who succeeded her father in the honours of Sutherland, and who, by marriage, is now* the Marchioness of Stafford, born May the 24th, 1765. Lady Catherine died on the 3d of January 1766. This event so affected her parents, that they left their seat, Dunrobin, in Sutherland, at which place it happened, and sought relief in the amusements of Bath, where they arrived much about the time that Lady Glenorchy left it. They sought relief; but they found it not. One affliction rapidly succeeded another. Soon after their arrival, Lord Sutherland was seized with a putrid fever, with which he struggled for fifty-four days, and then expired. The first twenty-one days and nights of this period, Lady Sutherland never left his bed-side, and then at last, overcome with fatigue, anxiety, and grief, she sunk, an unavailing victim to an amiable, but excessive attachment, seventeen days before the death of her Lord. Strange and unaccountable as the circumstance may appear, yet it is a fact, of which there

January 1822.

The way in it was in itWhilst she

can be no doubt, that her mother, Lady Alva, knew nothing of the death of her daughter for nearly three weeks after the event had taken place. which she at last became acquainted with self particularly singular and affecting. was hastening to her assistance, she happened to alight one day from her carriage at the door of an inn, on the road to Bath, where she saw two hearses standing. Upon inquiring whose remains they contained, she was told they were those of Lord and Lady Sutherland, on their way to the Royal Chapel of Holyrood-House, in Scotland, for interment.

The cup of affliction, thus put into the hands of Lady Glenorchy, by her domestic trials, and by this painful bereavement, was full to the brim and running over: this led her to pour out her sorrows, as usual, into the bosom of her friend Miss Hill, from whom, in return, she received the following cheering communications :

"July 10, 1766.

"O my dear friend, what a mixture of pain and pleasure has your letter, which I have just now received, occasioned me! The effect which your illness has had upon me, shows me that I am too much attached to you. I feel my heart sinking within me, at the bare apprehension of losing you. May the Lord pardon me, and spare you to glorify him on the earth! I rejoice in the happy frame of soul in which you appear to be, patiently waiting the Lord's time for the removal of your troubles. Fear not, he will do it; and as you well observe, turn your present mourning into joy. But O I am almost at a loss how to advise you concerning the particulars you mention. I have laid the cause before God in prayer, beseeching him to direct you for the best, and to show his will concern

ing you. Surely the weapons of a Christian should be always spiritual, and a Christian's adorning should be the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, under the greatest provocations. Do not then, my friend, so far dishonour the profession you make of a follower of the lowly Jesus, and even act so contrary and wholly opposite to your own disposition and inclination, as to put on any appearance of ill-humour. This would be going out of the way of duty, and might provoke God rather to continue the affliction, than remove it. Besides, such a conduct and example might injure spiritual interest where you wish to promote it, and make what you say on religious subjects of no weight, as that religion will most naturally and justly be thought vain, which does not influence the temper and conversation. Rather continue to pour out your distress before the throne of God, nothing doubting but that the trial shall be removed when the Lord sees it requisite for the good of your soul. Your letter fills my heart with thankfulness to the ever-blessed God, who has thus wonderfully supported you, and shown himself a present help in the time of your greatest extremity. Be not alarmed that you have felt those pains which are the consequences of natural affection; a want of them would have argued great insensibility. It would be, indeed, displeasing to God, to mourn as those who have no hope; but he is far from forbidding us to weep over our departed friends. Did not our Saviour do the same?"

"July 26, 1766.

"I trust, my dearest friend, this letter will find you perfectly easy and composed under your late trial; and that having laid all your burden on the Lord, he has continued to support you under it. As this, however,