me.  Then Mrs. Veal reminded Mrs. Bargrave of the many friendly offices she did her in former days, and much of the conversation they had with each other in the times of their adversity; what books they read, and what comfort, in particular, they received from Drelincourt’s Book of Death, which was the best, she said, on that subject ever written.  She also mentioned Dr. Sherlock, the two Dutch books which were translated, written upon death, and several others.  But Drelincourt, she said, had the clearest notions of death, and of the future state, of any who had handled that subject.  Then she asked Mrs. Bargrave, whether she had Drelincourt.  She said, Yes.  Says Mrs. Veal, Fetch it.  And so Mrs. Bargrave goes up stairs and brings it down.  Says Mrs. Veal, Dear Mrs. Bargrave, if the eyes of our faith were as open as the eyes of our body, we should see numbers of angels about us for our guard.  The notions we have of heaven now, are nothing like what it is, as Drelincourt says; therefore be comforted under your afflictions, and believe that the Almighty has a particular regard to you; and that your afflictions are marks of God’s favor; and when they have done the business they are sent for, they shall be removed from you.  And believe me, my dear friend, believe what I say to you, one minute of future happiness will infinitely reward you for all your sufferings.  For, I can never believe (and claps her hand upon her knee with great earnestness, which indeed ran through most of her discourse), that ever God will suffer you to spend all your days in this afflicted state; but be assured, that your afflictions shall leave you, or you them, in a short time.  She spake in that pathetical and heavenly manner, that Mrs. Bargrave wept several times, she was so deeply affected with it.

Then Mrs. Veal mentioned Dr. Kenrick’s Ascetick, at the end of which he gives an account of the lives of the primitive Christians.  Their pattern she recommended to our imitation, and said, their conversation was not like this of our age:  For now, says she, there is nothing but frothy, vain discourse, which is far different from theirs.  Theirs was to edification, and to build one another up in faith; so that they were not as we are, nor are we as they were:  but, says she, we ought to do as they did.  There was an hearty friendship among them; but where is it now to be found?  Says Mrs. Bargrave, It is hard indeed to find a true friend in these days.  Says Mrs. Veal, Mr. Norris has a fine copy of verses, called Friendship in Perfection, which I wonderfully admire.  Have you seen the book? says Mrs. Veal.  No, says Mrs. Bargrave, but I have the verses of my own writing out.  Have you? says Mrs. Veal, then fetch them.  Which she did from above stairs, and offered them to Mrs. Veal to read, who refused, and waived the thing, saying, holding down her head would make it ache; and then desired Mrs. Bargrave to read them to her, which she did.  As they were admiring friendship,