How poor a figure is that of a libertine, in his most glittering heights of vanity, compared to this great man, who has so early begun his race of glory, and is, in the very bloom of youth, mature in every virtue! Instead of passing his hours in a train of idle amusements, the gay part of his life is devoted to Heaven, and the public welfare. You know where to find Your humble servant, MELINDA. 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 my soul to you. of 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 possession, 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 valleys 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 un utterable name-That time shall be no 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 its glories; the ineffable Divinity shall shew 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, 1 What tow'ring intellect, with daring flight, Who e'er has mark'd, with bold enquiring eyes, Where Love, in all his heavenly charms sits crown'd? The full resemblance of the Deity, Who all his glorious image stampt on thee; 'Twas thou who didst his boundless thoughts employ, What thought can measure back the long extent Of nameless times, and speak thy long descent? Before the hills appeared, or fountains flow'd; Thou wast in bliss and dignity the same, His perfect image thou dost justly prove,. 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 & SOPHRONIA THE king was now with martial cares oppress'd, This statue, Sir, by your own hands. convey'd r 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 wizzard 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 power divine, to men, was yet unknown. · The curs'd 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 met. '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 like 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. 1 The richer blessing of a noble mind. With pious thoughts, and sacred zeal inspir'd, The Christians danger now had reach'd her ears, She pass'd the crowded streets with sober pace, Nor strove to veil, nor yet expose her face ; Downward her eyes with modest looks incline, And with a nice engaging coyness shine; Her charming air, her easy mien and dress, Nor art, nor perfect negligence confess : Admir'd of all, the thoughtful beauty pass'd, And met the wild disorder'd king at last : Great Sir, (she then began,) the Christians spare, And I th' unknown offender will declare.' A decent boldness lighten'd in her eyes, Whose piercing lustre ev'ry heart surprise: The vanquish'd monarch stood confus'd and charm'd, His visage alter'd, and his rage disarm'd: Ev'n love had enter'd, but th' imperious fair Attack'd his soul by methods too severe; Not frowns, nor coy foreboding beauty move, But gentle smiles indulge the flame of love: |