olidity of this reasoning in every case but my own. And why not
in my own? For causes which to them it appears madness to allege, but
which rest upon my mind with a weight of immovable conviction. If I am
recoverable, why am I thus?--why crippled and made useless in the
Church, just at that time of life when, my judgment and experience
being matured, I might be most useful?--why cashiered and turned out of
service, till, according to the course of nature, there is not life
enough left in me to make amends for the years I have lost,--till there
is no reasonable hope left that the fruit can ever pay the expense of
the fallow? I forestall the answer:--God's ways are mysterious, and He
giveth no account of His matters--an answer that would serve my purpose
as well as theirs to use it. There is a mystery in my destruction, and
in time it shall be explained.

"I am glad you have found so much hidden treasure; and Mrs. Unwin
desires me to tell you that you did her no more than justice in
believing that she would rejoice in it. It is not easy to surmise the
reason why the reverend doctor, your predecessor, concealed it. Being
a subject of a free government, and I suppose fall of the divinity most
in fashion, he could not fear lest his riches should expose him to
persecution. Nor can I suppose that he held it any disgrace for a
dignitary of the church to be wealthy, at a time when churchmen in
general spare no pains to become so. But the wisdom of some men has a
droll sort of knavishness in it, much like that of a magpie, who hides
what he finds with a deal of contrivance, merely for the pleasure of
doing it.

"Mrs. Unwin is tolerably well. She wishes me to add that she shall be
obliged to Mrs. Newton, if, when an opportunity offers, she will give
the worsted-merchant a jog. We congratulate you that Eliza does not
grow worse, which I know you expected would be the case in the course
of the winter. Present our love to her. Remember us to Sally Johnson,
and assure yourself that we remain as warmly as ever,

"Yours,
W. C.
M. U."

In the next specimen we shall see the faculty of imparting interest to
the most trivial incident by the way of telling it. The incident in
this case is one which also forms the subject of the little poem called
_The Colubriad_.

To THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

"_Aug. 3rd_, 1782.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,--Entertaining some hope that Mr. Newton's next letter
would furnish