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Late Rector of Wefton-Favell, in Northamptonshire.

For Zion's fake will I not hold my Peace, and for Jerufalem's
fake I will not reft, until the Righteoufnefs thereof go forth
as Brightness, and the Salvation thereof as a Lamp that
burneth. Ifai. lxii. 1.




Printed by Charles Rivington,

For JOHN and FRANCIS RIVINGTON, at the Bible
and Crown, in St. Paul's Church-yard.


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HE laft Evening was one of the finest I ever faw. According to Cuftom, I made an Excurfion into the open Fields; and wanted nothing to complete the Satisfaction, but my Friend's

Company *. I could not but observe, how much your improving Conversation heightened the Charms of Nature. When Religion applied Philofophy, every Thing was inftructive, as well as pleafing.-Not a Breeze swept over the Plains, to clear the Sky, and

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* Tu quod abes excepto, cætera lætus.


cool the Air; but it tended alfo to difperfe our Doubts, and enliven our Faith in the Supreme Allfufficient GOOD.-Not a Cloud tinged the Firmament with radiant Colours, or amused the Sight with romantic Shapes, but We beheld a Picture of the present World. Its fading Acquifitions, and fantaftic Joys were pourtrayed, in the mimic Forms, and the tranfitory Scene. Even the weakest of the Infect-tribe, that fkim the Air in fportive Silence, addreffed Us with the strongest Incitements, and gave Us the loudeft Calls, to be active in our Day, and useful in our Generation. They cried, at least when You lent them your Tongue,

Such is vain Life, an idle Flight of Days,
A ftill delufive Round of fickly Joys,
A Scene of little Cares, and trifling Paffions,
If not ennobled by the Deeds of Virtue.

How often, at the Approach of fober Eve, have We fauntered through the dusky Glade. Obferving the laft Remains of Light, now impurpling the Western Clouds; now faintly gleaming on the Mountain's Brow; now creeping infenfibly from all the fhaded Landscape.-How often have We ftole along the Cloysters of fome leafy Bower; attentive to the Tale of a querulous Current. That feemed to be ftruck with Horror, at the awful Gloom; and complained with heavier Murmurs, as it paffed under the blackening Shades, and along the Root-obftructed Channel.-Or elfe, far from the babbling Brook, and foftly treading the graffy Path, We liftened to the Nightingale's Song. While every Gale held its Breath, and all the Leaves forbore their


Motion, that they might neither drown nor interrupt the melodious Woe. From both which penfive Strains, You endeavoured to temper and chastise the exuberant Gaiety of my Spirits. You convinced me, that true Joy is a serious Thing*: is the Child of fedate Thought, not the Spawn of intemperate Mirth: nurfed, not by the Sallies of diffolute Merriment, but by the Exercise of ferene Contemplation.

Sometimes, at the gladfome Return of Morn, we have afcended an airy Eminence; and hailed the new-born Day; and gazed the Dew-bright Earth; and followed, with our delighted Eye, the Mazes of fome glittering Stream.-Here rushing, with impetuous Fury, over the Mountain's Summit; tumbling from Rock to Rock; and roaring down the craggy Steep. Impatient, as it were, to get free from fuch rugged Paths, and mingle itself with the adjacent Mead.-There, flackening its headlong Career, and smoothing its Eddies, into a glaffy Surface, and a gentle Flow. While, deep embofomed in the verdant Soil, it winds through the cherished and smiling Herbage. Sometimes, loft amidst closing Willows; fometimes, iffuing with fresh Luftre from the verdant Arch; always, roving with an Air of amorous Complacency, as though it would kiss the fringed Banks, and caress the flowery Glebe.-Reminded, by this watery Monitor, of that Conftancy and Vigour, with which the Affections should move towards the great Center of Happiness, CHRIST JESUS—of that determined Ardour, with which we should break through the Entanglements of Temptation, and Obftacles of

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*Res fevera eft verum Gaudium, SEN.


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