re most eminently the happy years of his life; for he had
learned to estimate his happiness, not by the increase of honour, or the
possession of wealth, or by what was much dearer to his generous heart
than either, the converse of the dearest and worthiest human friends; but
by nearness to God, and by opportunities of humble converse with him, in
the lively exercise of contemplation, praise, and prayer. Now there was
no period of his life in which he was more eminently favoured with these,
nor do I find any of his letters so overflowing with transports of holy
joy, as those which were dated during this time. There are indeed in some
of them such very sublime passages, that I have been dubious whether I
should communicate them to the public or not, lest I should administer
matter of profane ridicule to some, who look upon all the elevations
of devotion as contemptible enthusiasm. And it has also given me some
apprehensions lest it should discourage some pious Christians, who, after
having spent several years in the service of God, and in humble obedience
to the precepts of his gospel, may not have attained to any such heights
as these. But, on the whole, I cannot satisfy myself to suppress them;
not only as I number some of them, considered in a devotional view, among
the most extraordinary pieces of the kind I have ever met with; but as
some of the most excellent and judicious persons I any where know, to
whom I have read them, have assured me that they felt their hearts in an
unusual manner impressed, quickened, and edified by them.

CHAPTER VI.

LETTERS.

I will therefore draw back the veil, and show my much honoured friend in
his most secret recesses, that the world may see what those springs were,
from whence issued that clear, permanent and living stream of wisdom,
piety, and virtue, which so evidently ran through all that part of his
life which was open to public observation. It is not to be imagined that
letters written in the intimacy of Christian friendship, some of them
with the most evident marks of haste, and amidst a variety of important
public cares, should be adorned with any studied elegance of expression,
about which the greatness of his soul would not allow him to be at any
time very solicitous, for he generally (as far as I could observe) wrote
as fast as his pen could move, which, happily both for him and his many
friends, was very freely. Yet here the grandeur of his subject has
sometimes