LETTER XV.

To EUSEBIUS.

As my reformation is partly owing to that exalted notion of virtue your example gave me, it is one of the greatest satisfactions I have to express the sense of that immense obligation, by unfolding the most secret recesses of my soul to you.

I cannot but communicate my content, while every view my thoughts take heightens my happiness. I look back on the stormy ocean, the tumult and perplexity of my life past, and bless the gracious Power that saved me on the very edge of perdition; when I look forward, my expectations are all bright and unbounded.

I bid my soul take its ease, banish every care, and act without restraint the glorious prodigal. I survey my vast possesion, lose my wishes in endless plenty, and give up all my powers to indolence and joy. I look to the stars, count the heavenly glories, and call the treasures of eternity my

own.

Let Chaos come again: be the gay creation lost in darkness, and the fair face of Nature become an universal blank: let her beauties fade, and those divine characters she wears be effaced; I shall yet be happy when the groves shall no more renew their verdure, nor the vallies boast their flowery pride. When the sun is extinguished in the skies,

and all the ethereal lamps have burnt out their golden flames,--when the commissioned angel shall lift his hand on high, and swear by the unutterable Name-That time shall be do more,-when these transitory images of things for ever take their flight, I shall explore the worlds of Life and Pleasure, and triumph in the plenitude of Bliss.

Then shall the celestial arcana be unveiled, and the heaven of heavens disclose their glories: the ineffable divinity shall show the milder beauties of his face, and manifest as much of his excellence as created intellects can support. But what angel's wing has measured the height of his throne? who has entered those sacred recesses where he dwells in himself, possessed of unbounded bliss! Has the ocean of joy been fathomed, or the limits of independent felicity described? Who has found access to the inmost habitations of the most High, and gazed on essential glory, before whose fainter emanations the angelic splendours are eclipsed, the thrones and principalities of light disappear?

What path is found to those sublime retreats,
Where Pleasure banquets in its regal seats
Where Beauty triumphs in her native bow'r,
Uncopy'd yet by the creating Pow'r ?
Ten thousand various forms, divinely fair,
Sparkle in their supreme ideas there;
While Wisdom, with superior order, shines
In boundless schemes and infinite designs.
Wond'rous the prospect, clear, and unconfin'd,
But open only to th' Eternal Mind.

What tow'ring intellect, with daring flight,
Has made excursion through these realms of light:
The bless'd recesses, where th' approachless God,
From all duration, made his high abode ?

Whoe'er has mark'd, with bold enquiring eyes,
From whence the secret springs of life arise?
How from their deep exhaustless source they flow,
To actuate heav'n, and cheer the world below?
Those dazzling habitations who has found,
Where Love, in all his heav'nly charms, sits crown'd?
Great Love, th' Almighty Father's first delight,
His image, and the darling of his sight;
The full resemblance of the Deity,

Who all his glorious image stamp'd on thee!

''Twas thou who didst his boundless thoughts employ,
His sole complacence, his peculiar joy,
From ages unbegun.- But who can tell

Thy generation, and thy birth reveal?

What thought can measure back the long extent
Of nameless times, and speak thy great descent?
Before the hills appear'd, or fountains flow'd,
Or golden flames in the blue ether glow'd;
Before the vast creation had a name,

Thou wast in bliss and dignity the same.

By thee the sun, by thee the stars were made;
The spacious skies at thy command were spread;
The heav'n of heav'ns, the empyrean coasts,
Were form'd by thee, with all their num'rous hosts;
Angels, Archangels, Thrones, Dominions, Pow'rs,
Who sing thy conquests in th' inmortal bow'rs;
For thou dost ev'ry heav'nly breast inflame,
And loud Victorias answer to thy Name:
Their beings and their bliss they owe to thee,
Thou equal offspring of the Deity!
His perfect image thou dost justly prove,
For all the bright Divinity is Love.

You find, in whatever character I act, whether the saint or the libertine, Love is the animating motive, the leading principle. But how superior are my prospects! how glorious the hopes that now fire my soul, to the trifling ends I had lately in view! My desires terminate in nothing below infinite excellence, and unbounded felicity.

Adieu.

LETTER XVI.

The story of OLINDA and SOPHRONIA.

[Translated from Tasso's Jerusalem, Book II.} THE King was now with martial cares oppress'd, When curs'd Ismenes thus his Lord address'd: "To share your fate, great Sir, I left my cell, "And bring you all th' assisting force of Hell: "Th' infernal spirits subject to my will, "With eager speed my ftrict commands fulfil! "By them inform'd, this method I propose, "To guard the fortress, and insult your foes. "Beneath a temple which the Christians own "Descends a vault, to all but them unknown; "Within the awful consecrated ground

An image of the Virgin Mother's found; "Perpetual lamps before the wondrous maid, "Are lighted up, and fragrant incense laid: "This statue, Sir, by your own hands convey'd "From thence, must be in Macon's temple laid; "Secur'd by spells; while that does safe remain, "Godfrey shall storm the fated town in vain.”

This said, th' impatient King directs his pace, With impious fury, to the holy place; Nor to profane the sacred pavement fears, But madly thence the beauteous image bears: Then in his god's polluted seat 'twas laid, While o'er it ev'ry charm the Wizard said.

But when in heav'n the next gay morning shone, Its guardian finds the sacred treasure gone : Searches in vain; then, with a thousand fears Distracted to the court the tidings bears.

The Prince his Christian subjects first suspects, And all his flaming rage at them directs: But whether human hands the work had done, Or Pow'r divine, to men was yet unknown, The curst enchanter mutters o'er his spells, Yet nothing by the hellish art reveals; Each house was ransack'd to its last retreat, But no success th' enrag'd inquirers meet, "'Tis then resolv'd," the raving Monarch cries, "I'll doom them all one gen'ral sacrifice; "The guiltless with th' unknown offender falls; "A fact iike this for speedy vengeance calls,"

This cruel sentence reach'd the Christians' ears: Their sudden fate unusual horror wears; No dawning hope of safety was in sight, No method of defence, or secret flight: Nor dare they mercy from the tyrant crave; Their last and desp'rate refuge was the grave, But heav'n, which ne'er abandons the distress'd, Provides them succour where they hop'd it least. A beauteous Virgin liv'd, but liv'd unknown, Amidst the concourse of the noisy town; A lively bloom adorn'd her charming face, An artless softness and persuasive grace : To this advantage fav'ring Heav'n had join'd The richer blessing of a noble mind.