which they have asserted or done, it may be useful to speak strongly of them but not with anger and exaggeration; which will only give them a handle to censure our uncharitableness, and confute us: but with deep concern, that when so few persons express any zeal for the Gospel, so many of those, who do, run into extremes, that hurt its interests. Nor will ridicule become our character, or serve our cause better than invective. It may please those very highly, who are in no danger of being proselyted by them. But what shall we get by that? Persons negligent of religion will at the same time be confirmed in their negligence; and think, that all they need to avoid is being righteous overmuch.* Tender minds will be grieved and wounded by such illplaced levity and crafty declaimers will rail at us with success, as scoffers,t denying the power of Godli ness. But if we let fall any light expressions, that can be wrested into a seeming disrespect of any Scripture doctrine or phrase, we shall give our adversaries unspeakable advantages and they have shewn, that they will use them without mercy or equity. Therefore we must guard every word, that we utter, against misrepresentations; be sure to express, in public and private, our firm belief of whatever evangelical truths border upon their mistakes; and certainly be as vigilant over our behaviour, as our teaching: encourage no violence, no rudeness towards them; but recommend ourselves to them by our mildness, our seriousness, our diligence: honour those, who are truly devout and virtuous amongst them, much more on that account, than we blame them for being injudicious, and hard to please; and be full as ready to acknowledge the good they have done, as to complain of the harm: yet beware, and counsel others to beware, of being

Eccl. vii. 16. †2 Pet. iii. 9. 2 Tim. i 15.

drawn, by esteem of their piet relishing their singularities, an ronizing their schism.

Acting thus, we shall not o off occasion from those who occasion* to speak evil of be able to remonstrate with a and effect against their exce wildnesses; but, which is point, we shall become bet ters of Christ for their ha ment of us. And we sho labour, that every thing this influence upon us: ourselves, if others go to ther we do not fall short consciences, whether w all that is in our power and improve our peopl the small success of our be, in truth, as it oug grief to us; whether fully searched out, and ly to overcome the d lie in our way to mak ter. These things, if nest, we shall chiefly and if we are not in e of all men the most most miserable.f

For the Churchma

Remarks on Mr.

In looking ove Mr. Ward of Ser will be recollected led through this

with a passage or some unpleasant f soms as Churchm ❝ divine service s ed in the states should think tha byterians, the and the Baptists

instances of a though there rez amongst the Ep

Cor. xi. 12.

duty. If any think their brethren deficient in doctrine or in zeal, let them essay their reformation by pleading with the silent voice of example. Let them be seen "in labours more abundant;"-in humility more profound ;-" in all things shewing themselves a pattern of good works in doctrine shewing uncorruptedness, gravity, sincerity, sound speech, that cannot be condemned; that he that is of the contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of them." We pledge ourselves that few will be found so lost to a sense of what they promised in ordination, as not to be affected by a multiplication of such examples-by the sight of holy and humble men labouring in their vocation, with the recollection ever present that "the time is short," and the eternal state of souls depending on the strength of their individual la

bours.

That Mr. Ward meant to use the word 'evangelical' in the party sense, is very evident; for as every evangelical Episcopalian, in the theological meaning of the word, is, and must be a pious man, it would be nothing mysterious if he found "much genuine piety amongst them." Had his researches been more extensive, we trust he would have found much genuine piety, and also much humility, and devotedness to the cause of the Gospel, amongst those who refuse to be called evangelical as a mark of distinction from their fellow labourers in the ministry. We sincerely hope that all attempts to set one part of our clergy in array against the other, by assuming and giving names of party distinction, may he speedily brought to confusion, with every other evil work. Let ministers be as zealous as they please, and preach as pure a doctrine as they please; let them "be instant in season, and out of season ;" let them 66 reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all long suffering and doctrine"-how

vast the necessity of such labours!

but let them not be guilty of the weakness of arrogating the merit of being exclusively evangelical.

The "Farewell Letters" of Mr. Ward were written to a few friends in Britain and America, on his returning to Bengal. They are chiefly intended to convey information on the religious state of India; and though written apparently in haste, they describe with much feeling and effect the unholy abominations of the Hindoos.

From the Episcopal Magazine.

A curious Historical Anecdote.

IT has been said that Richard Plantaganet, natural son of Richard III. King of England, died with a trowel in his hand. The following anecdote on this subject is related in a French work entitled, Lettres to Count de B.--Sir Thomas Moyle, being employed in building a castle in the parish of Eastville, in the burial registers of which are still seen these words, "Richard Plantaganet was interred the 22d December, 1550," observed that his principal mason retired at the usual hours of breakfast and dinner, and that when he got to the distance of about 100 paces, he took a book from his pocket, and read while he was taking his repast.

Sir Thomas, desirous to know what book it was, which so much engaged the attention of his mason, endeavoured for some days to surprize him, but always without effect; for as soon as the mason heard him approaching, he put the book in his pocket and went away.

Sir Thomas's curiosity was still more excited by this caution, and as he was continually on the watch, he at length discovered that his master mason read Virgil's Æneid, and that he was a man of no mean talents.

He therefore formed a close intimacy with him, and admitted him to his table; where, by treating him with every mark of respect and attention, he drew from him the following confession. "Providence, which regulates every thing in the world, determined that I should be a mason; but my ancestors caused cities to be built, and I now build your castle. They had palaces, and possessed a throne, but I possess only an humble cot. I have not always known what I am; but, when ignorant of my own extraction, I was happier and more contented than at present. Until the age of sixteen, I was boarded with a master at whose house I was visited every three months by a man of great dignity, who paid for my board, saluted me very respectfully, and then retired, after having taken great pains to let me know that he was not my father. This man came one day (a month before the expiration of the quarter,) begged me to accompany him, and making me get into an elegant coach, conducted me to the gate of a beautiful palace, before which he alighted. After crossing several spacious halls, we arrived at one more ornamented than the rest, where my con. ductor left me, and desired me to wait for a few moments. I had not remained here long, when a nobleman about the age of forty-six, superbly dressed, and wearing a garter enriched with diamonds, entered the apartment, advanced towards me, and clasping me for some time in his arms, kissed me, and asked a great number of questions, which I answered in the best manner I could. With this person I remained a quarter of an hour; at the expiration of which, he gave me a purse filled with pieces of gold, embraced me again, and departed. My first guide then made his appearance, and, with out revealing the mystery of this strange visit, conveyed me back to my place of residence, and left me

a prey to a thousand reflections, which afforded me very little satisfaction. Some months after, when it was scarcely day, the same man returned, and brought me a rich dress, which he made me put on, and desired me to follow him. Hav ing obeyed, I found a carriage with six horses waiting for us at the gate, into which we mounted, and instantly drove to Bosworth, to the tent of King Richard III., who, as soon as he perceived us, came to meet me, laid hold of my hand, and discovered himself to be the same person, who had before received me with so much kindness. This prince, after clasping me in his arms, showed me to some noblemen, who stood round him, saying, behold my son, then turning towards me, "my child," said he, "I shall fight to-morrow for my crown and yours; it shall either remain on my head, or I shall lose my life. As you are by far too young, my son, do not expose yourself in the combat.

You see that

eminence before you, post yourself there; your guide will follow you, and from thence you may be a spectator of the event of the battle. If I am victorious, fly to my arms, and I shall acknowledge you as my son; but if I am vanquished, be persuaded that you have no father surviving, fly as far as you can, and reveal to no one the secret of your birth, for none of my friends can hope for mercy from the conqueror, whose interest it will be to destroy even the last branch of my family. "Go," said he, with his eyes bathed in tears, while his words were interrupted with sighs, "go, my son, fulfil your destiny, carry with you this port-folio, and give it to your guide, who will take care of it for you;" then turning towards him, he added, "I recommend to you my son, and this deposit." I was struck motionless, and almost senseless at this discourse, and wavering between a desire to follow the fate of my father,

and the fear of disobeying him, I waited with my eyes fixed upon him, till he should renew his orders for me to retire, or permit me to remain near him but my guide took me by the hand, and dragged me towards the eminence, for my legs were almost incapable of supporting the weight of my body. I shall only tell you further, that I saw my unhappy father, on a white horse, make wonderful efforts by his valour, to rally his scattered troops, always ready to fly. I saw, and I still shudder at the recollection, a Scotsman fall furiously upon him, and after losing one of his arms by a sabre, make use of the other to cut off the Prince's head; and this head at length carried in triumph on the end of a pole, decided my fate, and that of the battle. When I had lost all hope, I turned towards my guide, to pour forth in his bosom the burden of my grief; but alas! the unhappy man was no longer near me; he had fled with the port-folio, which my father delivered to him, and thus deprived me of every resource. Not knowing what course to pursue in this critical conjuncture, I mounted a horse, which I found tied to a tree, and which he had left me, and repaired to London, where I sold him, and all the other effects that I possessed. I took lodgings in Piccadilly, where the money procured by the sale of my effects, supported me for nearly eighteen months; but my purse being at last empty, I saw no other resource to preserve my life, but to conceal my name, and no means of escaping misery but by labour.

As some masons lodged in the same tavern with me, I one day accosted them as they were sitting down to dinner. Contentment seemed to beam in all their countenances, joy animated their conversation, and the food, that was set before them, though exceedingly simple, awaken

ed my appetite. Having entered into conversation with them, I asked them several questions concerning their business, and their emoluments, and being very well satisfied with their answers, I hired myself to them as a day-labourer. My first attempts were successful, and my progress so rapid, that at the end of twenty years, being highly distinguished by my master, I became his foreman. He then proposed to admit me to his table, and the son of Richard, who had not disdained to handle the trowel, thought himself very happy to eat at the table of a man, who had taught him the use of it; I therefore accepted his proposal with pleasure.

Sir William (for this was the name of my master) had a daughter, who rendered my residence in his house very agreeable. Like Hebe, she was full of graces; her virtue was equal to that of Lucretia, and her countenance was never ruffled by a frown. I lived with the father and daughter till the death of the former, in the most perfect harmony, and without any thought of the future; but this unexpected loss, by filling our hearts with sorrow, told us that we could no longer live in a way, that would wound the delicacy of my virtuous companion, and scandalize our neighbours; and that we must either separate, or unite together for life. The idea of the grandeur, which I was going to renounce for ever, could not even for a moment prevail over the friendship which I entertained for the daughter of my deceased master; I disclosed my passion to her; she gave me a favourable reception, and when the time of mourning had expired, I married her. By this virtuous spouse I had three children, who are still my greatest comfort. Having succeeded to the employment of my master, I am now become your principal mason. This is my history, which you were so desirous to learn."