of my worst. There is some flow in it; and to have done any thing, is rather encouraging.

You will be pleased to hear, that I rather enjoy my nest; that the bird's wings do not begin to flutter for another flight. Naturam expellas furca, tamen usque, &c.; before I was sixteen, I scribbled verses in praise of solitude; and, even then, occasional seclusion was my best medicine, when any thing wrong within ruffled my mind, or depressed my spirits. It is, therefore, not wonderful, that, after having been near five months in uninterrupted society, retirement should be felt to have some charms, and, I trust, some advantages. I have been taking a full, and certainly not a morbid retrospect of my deportment, during our never-to-be forgotten journey; and I must take shame to myself, for having too often indulged a cavilling, disputatious spirit, when it should much rather have been my delight to listen and improve, and thankfully avail myself of the uncommon advantages with which I was blest. This, I say soberly, deliberately, and after making every fair allowance for the state of my health. You well know, that “bad nerves, bad health, and naturally bad spirits," were insufficient to disturb the sweet benignity of Benson. And I, too, though far from the " templa serena," which this good man had happily reached, might have borne up better, if I had more diligently sought the best aid, and improved the means of self-discipline, that were within my power. I am now most conscious, that, in almost every instance where we differed in opinion, I was wrong; parti

cularly, on different occasions at Mr. Stocks; at B—, when we talked of Cowper's imitation of Horace; and in the conversation about Hannah More, the last day I dined with you. Your patience and forbearance now surprise me; and I have recalled to my mind many instances, in which you took the kindest pains to save me from little uneasinesses, though I am sure many more such instances will never be known to me, at least in this life. If I were sure that what has passed may not have lowered me, both in your esteem and affection, I should not greatly regret it. The tendency and temper were manifestly in me; and was it not, on the whole, desirable, that they should show themselves? It is hard to combat with a hidden foe; and an unsuspected ambuscade is next to inevitable. I now know the quarter on which I am exposed, as well as the enemy I have to guard against. I shall, however, make no professions; for professions are dangerous things. Let me simply add, that, even if truth had been on my side, I too often expressed myself in a manner, not to say in terms, that truth itself could by no means justify. Francois de Sales has furnished me with two maxims, which I wish never to forget, and which I have placed like a motto, fully intelligible only to myself, in the very front of my scrapbook.

"Il faut mieux taire une vérité, que de la dire de mauvaise grace:

Le silence judicieux, est toujours meilleur, qu'une vérité non charitable."

As I was finishing the last sentence, your most welcome letter was brought in to me; the subscription of it," yours unalterably," was peculiarly consoling to me, amidst fears, which I could not help entertaining, that I had given but too much cause for alteration. I shall now be more disposed to hope that all may yet be well.

Farewell, and believe me ever,

Your most cordially attached,

JOHN JEBB.

LETTER LXVI.

Extract from MR. KNOX's Reply.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Dawson Street, Dec. 9, 1809.

Though I can say but little by this post, I must say something. Words cannot express, how much I have your well-being at heart: therefore I rejoice, with all my soul, in every sentiment of yours, whether fully warranted by past facts, or not, which implies energy in the mental vis medicatrix nature. You more than do justice to my movements toward you; and you are, at least, not a bit indulgent to yourself. But severity to one's self is a good side to err upon: I must therefore say, I never did receive a letter from you which gave me such deep comfort and satisfaction.

BISHOP LATIMER's letter to KING HENRY VIII. pleading for general liberty to read the Holy Scriptures in English.

To the most mighty prince King of England, Henry the Eighth, grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ.

The holy doctor Augustine, in an epistle which he wrote to Casulanus, saith, that he which for fear of any power hideth the truth, provoketh the wrath of God to come upon him: for he feareth men more than God. And, according to the same, the holy man St. John Chrysostom saith, that he is not only a traitor to the truth, which openly for truth teacheth a lie, but he also, which doth not freely pronounce and show the truth that he knoweth. These sentences (most redoubted king) when I read now of late, and marked them earnestly in the inward parts of mine heart, they made me sore afraid, troubled, and vexed me grievously in my conscience, and at the last drove me to this strait,

that either I must show forth such things as I have read and learned in Scripture, or else to be of that sort that provoke the wrath of God upon them, and to be traitors unto the truth: the which thing than it should happen, I had rather suffer extreme punishment.

For what other thing is it to be a traitor and a Judas unto Christ, which is the very truth and cause of all truth? the which sayeth, 'that whosoever denieth him before men, he will deny him before his Father in heaven.' The which denying ought more to be feared and dread, than the loss of all temporal goods, honour, promotion, fame, prison, slander, hurts, banishments, and all manner of torments and cruelties; yea, and death itself, be it never so shameful and painful. But, alas! how little do men regard those sharp sayings of these two holy men! and how little do they fear the terrible judgment of Almighty God! and specially they which boast themselves to be guides and captains unto others, and challenging unto themselves the knowledge of holy Scripture; yet will neither show the truth themselves, (as they be bound,) neither suffer them that would: so that unto them may be said that which our Saviour Christ said to the Pharisees, "Woe be it unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, which shut up the kingdom of heaven before men, and neither will you enter in yourselves, neither suffer them that would to enter in." (1) And they will, as much as in them

(1) Matt. xxiii.