She was the flower of the flock which at that time assembled at my rails, and I can very truly say that I have had no catechumens since to be compared with that flock. Remember us kindly at Seyton, &c., and believe me ever, your affectionate Father,

DANIEL SANDFORD.

Edinburgh, April 4, 1821.

MY BELOVED Daughter,

That hand which none can escape has lately taken from this place two very valuable and respected members of our societya few days since Mr J. A was, as his brother J was several years ago, suddenly called and Dr G died the day before yesterday. Mr A was buried in the vaults under our chapel yesterday, and has left a family who were much attached to him, and he has been permitted to leave them flourishing in wealth and temporal comforts. The death of Dr G is a severe loss to the University-his place will not easily be supplied. He was in

his sixty-eighth year-and Mr A— told, reached sixty-five-" so. soon away, and we are gone.'

had, I am passeth it

I am informed just now of a case still more touching-the deplorable and hopeless illness of Miss C―, the late Lord Register's eldest daughter. Her mother is gone with her as a last resource to

Penzance-the case is rapid decline, as you may imagine. She has long been one of my greatest favourites. Dear excellent Mrs C has great resignation, but her own health is very precarious, and I should fear the consequences of such a shock, as she has too much reason to anticipate. These subjects, my beloved F, are depressing, but they are wholesome and useful-you know the beautiful emblem of a christian mind under affliction, the palmtree, bent down by a weight; but the motto is depressa resurgo"-" bent down, I rise up again." Such is the proper effect of the trials of life—to raise our hopes and direct our exertions upwards.

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to do with party. I shall ever love and reverence true piety, whether I find it in the pages of the Christian Observer or the British Critic.

As to heterodox opinions, I may possibly discover them as well as my neighbours-but with controversy I will have nothing to do; and with false opinions I will do no more than do my best to preserve my own mind, and the minds of those whom I am bound to instruct, from their contamination. I am quite sick of the modern, and, I think, very unchristian plan of deciding about the character and almost the salvation of your neighbour, by his conduct in supporting or not supporting the Bible Society, or any other such test.

I heartily

wish, that instead of abusing one another, each party would take the pains of doing their own duty and reforming themselves.

I am very anxious to see how the Catholic Question will be managed in the House of Lords; of some of the Bishops we are sureif what I hear is true of the King's feelings, I would not pronounce what those courtier prelates will do who are panting for translations, and thrusting themselves forward at every leveethey had better be at their books. On your great man, who is a thorough son of the Church of England, we can depend, and his example will have great weight. If the Question be carried there also, I do not see a shadow of reason why the papistical Prelates, or Romish Prelates, as you may please to call them, should not sit with the Prelates of the Established Church. So much for this alarming subject.

Edinburgh, January 25, 1822.

I have a great debt to my beloved daughter, and I must do my best to acknowledge it. Your last kind letter, dearest F, under the Bishop's cover, gave me, as you might expect, great pleasure-not less have I been delighted with the parcel that has, at length, reached me by Mr C. W, who arrived here on Tuesday. I am charmed with my tray, which is only too delicate and pretty for my

table. The ornaments are in remarkably good taste; I am surprised at the correctness of them : you know what an accurate eye I have; and though my eyes are not in the best order, they are very capable of judging of the precision with which your beautiful drawing is executed-The thing itself, as your gift, is invaluable, and in its complete accommodation to my purposes, is all that I could wish-You would be pleased to see how well it looks now it has received all its inhabitants, and what a comfort it is to me; till it came, my pen, and pencil, and sealing wax, and compasses were continually quarrelling and encroaching on each other's precincts—now order is restored, and I can get at what I want blindfold. Pray tell my dearest Jane, that I and my watch are very much obliged to her for her attention. The watch took possession of its new quarters last night—and now is in no danger of a broken head by falling off the table where it used to sleep, as Jane calls it-and you know what an honourable station it has during the day.

I have forgotten all this time to quarrel with you for making an excuse for dwelling on nursery anecdotes.-I delight in them, and you cannot send me too many-and I certainly prefer them to the P—, which, in my opinion, is a falling off. But to the nursery-I send you a bit of card, through which I have endeavoured to prick the "Great Bear"-it must, of course, be looked at only in candle light, at some dis

tance from the light, and with the blackened side next the eye. I think a contrivance of this sort might familiarize the young astronomers to the appearance of the constellations. I have

tried as well as I can to represent the different magnitudes of the stars. If you like the thing I will send you the Bull with Aldebāran—(you remember old Robertson and Aldebaran); but after all dear C will do the thing much better for his bairns than poor blind grandpapa.

The Great Bear and the Little Bear ought to be together, for the great object is to teach how to know the Polar star. This card should be. dedicated to sweet Tommy, who is so attentive to the heavens. I am an old fool, therefore I must acknowledge I was anxious to hear how Jane liked my letter-tell me whether she can read words of two or three syllables, for it is no easy matter to compose in monosyllables-perhaps you are not aware of this-try, and you will find it is a more troublesome business than you think-if dearest Jane can manage dissyllables, she shall soon have another epistle, more worth her learning by heart.

Tell her the adventures of my poor cat are at an end-he went out on one of his rambles, about a fortnight since, and has never returned. His fur, which was very beautiful, probably adorns some High School boy's cap by this time, Adieu, ever your affectionate Father, D. SANDFORD.