ild of my heart, as well as
bosom, they do not take it amiss that I stay away.

Your Hannah left her place ill some time ago! and, as she is still at her
mother's at St. Alban's, I am afraid she continues ill. If so, as you
are among strangers, and I cannot encourage you at present to come into
these parts, I shall think it my duty to attend you (let it be taken as
it will) as soon as my Tommy's indisposition will permit; which I hope
will be soon.

I have a little money by me. You say you are poor yourself.--How
grievous are those words from one entitled and accustomed to affluence!--
Will you be so good to command it, my beloved young lady?--It is most of
it your own bounty to me. And I should take a pride to restore it to its
original owner.

Your Poor bless you, and pray for you continually. I have so managed
your last benevolence, and they have been so healthy, and have had such
constant employ, that it has held out; and will hold out till the happier
times return, which I continually pray for.

Let me beg of you, my dearest young lady, to take to yourself all those
aids which good persons, like you, draw from RELIGION, in support of
their calamities. Let your sufferings be what they will, I am sure you
have been innocent in your intention. So do not despond. None are made
to suffer above what they can, and therefore ought to bear.

We know not the methods of Providence, nor what wise ends it may have to
serve in its seemingly-severe dispensations to its poor creatures.

Few persons have greater reason to say this than myself. And since we
are apt in calamities to draw more comfort from example than precept, you
will permit me to remind you of my own lot: For who has had a greater
share of afflictions than myself?

To say nothing of the loss of an excellent mother, at a time of life when
motherly care is most wanted; the death of a dear father, who was an
ornament to his cloth, (and who had qualified me to be his scribe and
amanuensis,) just as he came within view of a preferment which would have
made his family easy, threw me friendless into the wide world; threw me
upon a very careless, and, which was much worse, a very unkind husband.
Poor man!--but he was spared long enough, thank God, in a tedious
illness, to repent of his neglected opportunities, and his light
principles; which I have always thought of with pleasure, although I was
left the more destitute for his chargeable illness, and ready t