my speech; and, with a short prayer, I left him a little more easy than I found him.

Pursuing my journey through the same village, I perceived funeral rites were performing in a public manner. The coffin, at a distance, indicated the death of a child; and I was soon confirmed in the truth of my opinion, by the description of persons who carried the corpse to the grave, and the particular manner in which they performed their office. They were young women clad in white, according to the custom of the country; and the coffin was delicately suspended by their hands as they moved along. It was easily learned that this was an only child; and that the parents were present as chief mourners. My last scene had lately furnished me with thoughts upon the peculiar circumstances of this death, which would, I hoped, greatly mitigate the sufferings of the afflicted parents. I soon resolved to communicate to them, when prudence and friendship permitted, what I had heard and witnessed, in order that I might prepare the way for such thoughts as the following; which I judged it profitable to leave with them in writing. The distressed mind is not prepared to receive the force of important truths when they are supported and explained by a train of elaborate reasonings: a few important remarks briefly stated, and powerfully applied to the understanding and the heart, are best adapted for yielding comfort in our unhappy moments.

What a mercy, my dear friends, since you will at present employ your thoughts about the infant child, that it drank but one deep draught from the cup of human misery! Lovely babe! lovely, even with the image of death imprinted upon thee. Didst thou once drink deep, very deep of human misery,—and did once suffice? Didst thou taste the sorrows of life, and wast thou at first disgusted? Wast thou permitted to end thy troubles by falling into a deep repose? Is thy spirit happy, and thy little body laid to slumber in the earth? Lie undisturb ed, my love, lie undisturbed; nor fear, nor sickness, nor pains, nor sorrows, shall ever reach thee! Lie undisturbed until the great wakeful morning, when thou shalt rise to meet thy Saviour; and mayst thou then, smiling, rejoice to see again thy Christian parents: nor would they, if they could, detain thee any longer prisoner here; or ask thee again

To breathe this grosser air,

This atmosphere of sin, calamity, and care,' Another consolatory thought, my dear friends, which your knowledge supplies you with, is, your child is not only happy, but it has left this world before you. The history of the old man was mournful, because he was left friendless in this vale of tears. Such examples of distress are very numerous in the world, if we were thoroughly acquainted with mankind. shall never fail to remember the language he spoke, when he

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affectionately addressed me in these words: Perhaps, my his tory may one day make a part of the history of your own family. May Heaven prevent it!' uttered the venerable old man. What a weight of care! Providence, my dear friends, has kindly prevented your suffering, by giving you an assurance that your child will never continue in this world to bury all her valuable friends and relatives,-will never wander up and down the earth bemoaning the cruelty and depravity of her own children, complaining of the wearisomeness of a life worn out by anxiety, and bending under the accumulated weaknesses and miseries of decrepid age.

Another important thought which the situation of my friends furnished me with is, the happiness of the death they have witnessed.

Perhaps, the effects of death upon the body that has fallen a victim to his power, were mild and gentle; the last enemy might be commissioned to destroy life, but not suffered to torture it. Were the silken cords of life gently untied by the last enemy? This was kindness granted by Heaven, never to be forgotten. Or did the lovely child struggle in death? the pains endured were not the furious lashes of a guilty conscience; they were not the terrors of an hereafter that affrighted its gentle spirit; there was no mixture of the divine anger in what was done to it for its evil actions: its cries were not the cries of a sinner praying, for the first and last time upon earth, for mercy. When its spirit was about to appear before Jesus Christ, it did not meet him as a Judge to pass condemnation upon it, but it was received by him as a spirit which he himself had created and redeemed; which he now has designed to place for ever above the reach of the numberless apostate spirits that remain upon earth; and has honoured, by gather ing it into his own world of happy spirits, where it shall live and be publicly recognized in that day when the Lord shall make up his jewels. Wherefore, comfort one another with

these words:-the time is short.

PHILANTHROpos.

AN ORIGINAL LETTER

OF THE LATE REV. MARTIN MADAN,

Rev. Sir,

CHAPLAIN TO THE LOCK HOSPITAL.

To the Editor.

I lately met with the following letter of the late Rev. Martin Madan. Your inserting it in your Magazine will oblige me exceedingly, and doubtless many of your readers. Mr. M. was originally bred to the law, and practised for a considerable time at the English Bar. His mother, Miss Judith Cowper, was eldest sister to John Cowper, D. D.

Rector of Great Berkhamstead, Herts, Chaplain in ordinary to king George II. and father to the celebrated poet Cowper. Dr. Cowper had two brothers; the eldest William Cowper, Esq. of Hertingfordbury; and the younger Ashley Cowper, Esq. who for many years possessed the lucrative place of Clerk of the House of Lords. He had also two sisters; the eldest, Judith Cowper, married to Colonel Martin Madan of the Guards; the younger to William Dé Grey, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench; and in 1780, created Lord Walsingham. Mr. Madan's mother was a poetess of no inconsiderable merit. Mr. M. also possessed some poetical abilities. Yours most sincerely,

Dublin.

Dear Sir,

ADOLESCENS.

Cheltenham, August, 6, 1757.

I RECEIVED the favour of yours, and thank you much for the kind advice it contained; and hope God will give me grace to follow it.

I have been this month at Cheltenham to drink the waters, and have preached every Sunday. Some of the company are much offended; others very thankful; the poor people of the place are very desirous to hear; and those of all persuasions flock in to hear the word of life. Last time, the Quakers and Baptists made no inconsiderable part of the congregation; and this confirms me in an opinion I have long had, that if the Truth were preached in the church, few, if any, would separate from it.

Lord and Lady D-- are here: we pass much time together; and I have daily inore and more reason to rejoice before God on their behalf; all prejudice is taken out of their hearts, and I verily believe their delight is in the saints that are upon the earth, and in such as excel in virtue, without any party spirit, or narrowing their affections towards any of their brethren in Christ Jesus, upon account of any outward difference. O Sir, how extraordinary is it to see people of their rank, youth, and property, joined to every qualification and endowment of mind and body which can make them amiable in the eyes of the world, desiring to become yet more vile for Christ's sake! to see them breathing after inward holiness, as the hart panteth after the water-brooks! Surely, nothing less than Almighty power could effect this. I trust you will remember both them and me in your prayers, that we may not stop short of the crown and prize.

As to the advice you give me concerning levity, I thank you for it; and hope the Lord will enable me to lay it deeply to heart, and evermore give me to rejoice in Him alone; but rejoice I must, for I have a dear Saviour that has loved me, and washed me from my sins in his own blood; yea, has honoured me with his commission to call other poor sinners to repentance! O Sir, how glorious is this! think you I can be sad while I experience this? O no; though at the same time my

soul is humbled to the very dust before him, that such a vile worm, unworthy even to name his blessed Name, should be thus visited with his great salvation! Lord Jesus, make us all truly thankful!

By a letter from Everton, to Mr. D, from Mr. Berridge, the Rector of that place, we receive the blessed news of another gospel minister being raised up in that dry desert; his words are these: "God has been pleased to bless and prosper my labours, in a very extraordinary manner, for these last three months. Since I preached the real gospel of Christ, seven people in my own parish have now received the gospel in the appointed way of repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ. Nine or ten from Potton are in a hopeful way, two at Gamlingay, and two at Eaton. There is now such a storm arising, that I know not how it will end, or when. I bless God, my mind is very quiet. Thou, O God, wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee! The tempest is now whistling about my ears; but it does not ruffle or discompose my heart. Some time ago, I was told by several persons, that twelve clergymen had combined together, in order to oppose and prosecute me, if they could. My 'Squire swears he will do my business; and last Lord's Day evening, when I came from church, he stopped me, and called me the usual names of Enthusiast, &c. To-day, I hear the 'Squire has sent for such of his tenants as are disposed to hear the word of God, and has given them warning to leave their farms directly. He tells all, what things he will do against me; and to shew he is in earnest, swears by his Maker he will do it."

Thus far are Mr. Berridge's own words; he adds a desire of being remembered at the Throne of Grace by all our Christian friends and I trust, dear Sir, that you, amongst the rest, won't forget him.

I propose being at Bristol about the 17th instant; and about a week after that, to be in London, where I hope to meet you and all friends in perfect health. Believe me, dear Sir, your truly affectionate servant in the gospel of our blessed Jesus, M. MADAN.

MURDER REMARKABLY DETECTED.

IN the year 1679 an event occurred at Lewes, in Sussex, perhaps one of the most horrid in the annals of human depravity. A close intimacy had for some years subsisted between Robert Brinkhurst, cutler, and William Moor, a young man, who, though bred a draper, was heir to a considerable landed property. But a petty difference arose be tween them, which, though soon apparently adjusted, gave

rise to such malice in the mind of the former, as rankled into one of the blackest designs that ever dishonoured human nature. Moor having been subject to an offensive breath, this insidious wretch contrived to have conveyed to him a paper of poison, and a letter signed with the initials of a friend of Moor's in London, strongly recommending the contents of the paper as an effectual remedy for that unpleasant complaint. The unsuspecting young man now waited only to know whether he was to take the whole at once; and accordingly wrote to his friend in London for information on that head; and Brinkhurst, for obvious reasons, officiously charged himself with the delivery of it to John Apps, the London carrier. But instead of executing that commission, he contrived, by the agency of an acquaintance of his in London, to have another letter sent to Moor, directing him to make but one dose of the supposed medicine. He therefore, on Tuesday, the 18th of November, fatally complied with that direction, and languished in extreme agony till the Sunday following, on which day he expired. Brinkhurst, during his friend's illness, was one of the most constant and apparently afflicted witnesses of his sufferings. By the will of the deceased, he was not only forgiven a debt to him of 501. but also received as much more in cash, together with his watch and other valuable memorials of his friendship. In the delusive semblance of gratitude and affection, this accomplished villain helped to lay the remains of his murdered benefactor in the coffin and the grave, and returned home in apparent security, to exult in the consummation and profit of his crimes. But that moral maxim, which justly declares vice to be eventually and inevitably its own punishment, even in this world, without any other interference of Providence than by those wise and general laws established from the foundation of the world, was speedily exemplified in the fate of this atrocious bypocrite. The two fictitious letters from London having been filed by Moor, they suggested to his friends the suspicion of the poison; and that soon brought to the recollection of Apps, the carrier, that he had some time before brought down a parcel to the deceased, which had been given him iu Southwark by a person unknown; but that he had somewhere a letter addressed to the same person, which, he having refused to take it in, Apps brought down again, and not knowing the writer, laid it by. It happened that on the day of Moor's interment he found this letter, and on opening it, discovered that Brinkhurst was the writer of it, and the contriver of his friend's unhappy fate. He was accordingly apprehended, and examined before two or three justices, to whom he partly confessed his guilt. On being interrogated. with regard to the nature of the deadly dose he had prepared, he pretended not to know its name; but said that if he saw it

very