the absurd fashion of sacrificing to these nocturnal amusements, those hours intended by a kind Providence for rest and repose. But on this subject, I forbear to enlarge further, having already endeavoured affectionately to point out some of the many destructive consequences, which inevitably result from these pernicious habits, to the persons themselves, and to all connected with them; whether in the deplorable waste of time, the destruction of health, or in the prevention of all mental, moral, and (alas, need I add) religious improvement.*

If it is the part of wisdom, during every period of this short life, to familiarize ourselves as much as possible, with the awful expectation of its final close, surely it must be especially desirable, that the aged should continually look forward to that important revolution, which in respect of themselves at least, must assuredly be near at hand. The fear of death seems principally to have its foundation in the foreboding consciousness, that in respect of that new and untried state, of the precise nature of which we are altogether ignorant, no present efforts of our own, no solicitude on the part of our dearest friends, can be of the smallest avail to our help and comfort. Having perhaps throughout life, been too much in the habit of resting our security on the unstable, tottering foundation of secondary causes;→on our

* See an Address prefixed to four discourses of the late Rev. Newcome Cappe, on the Incompatibility of the Love of Pleasure with the Love of God.

own wisdom or prudence ;-our ample possessions; or perchance, on the patronage, or the kindness and friendship of others; the mind feels appalled by the near approach of its apprehended, destitute condition; alarmed by the terrific certainty, that all these aids are about to make to themselves wings, and flee away. These fears and apprehensions however, would not create dismay, did we habitually feel that abiding consciousness, that entire conviction, not merely of the power, but of the infinite mercy and goodness of our heavenly Father, which continually animated the bosom of our divine Master. We know that even in the garden of Gethsemane, surrounded as he was by all the horrors of approaching crucifixion; forsaken by his friends, and assailed by his enemies, with expressions the most bitter, of contumely and reproach, his constancy did not forsake him. 66 Father," was his devout petition, Thy will, not mine be done." On the score of merit indeed, whatever may have been our conduct, we can have no claim to reward; for what have we, that we have not received? Our talents, whatever they may have been,-our opportunities, were they of our own creating? Even the disposition to use them wisely, sprung it out of the dust? But it may be alleged and truly, that whatever may have been our little comparative attainments, and however correct may have been our general conduct, yet, that the truly humble ingenuous mind must be deeply conscious of much imperfection, of many infirmities-probably of much mispent time, and perhaps, of some ac

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tual transgressions, and may therefore forebode some degree of suffering, to wipe away these stains. But although these apprehensions may be well founded, since "all have sinned and come short of the glory of God," yet what has the heart that is wholly devoted to Him, to dread? Know we not assuredly, that we cannot go where infinite wisdom and goodness shines not around? Whatever may await us in that unknown scene, it must be merciful and kind, forming an essential part of a great plan of infinite benevolence, which will issue in higher and still higher attainments in holiness, virtue, and happiness, as we advance from glory to glory, through the endless ages of eternity. Amen! Alleluia!

SUPPLEMENT.

THE excellent Author of the preceding Memoirs, survived the date of the last addition to them in the Appendix, about eighteen months: her bodily strength gradually failing, but her mind exhibiting few, if any marks of decay. From the faithful delineation which she has here given of her own character, every intelligent reader must have been fully convinced, that the first desire of her heart was to do good, and that in the accomplishment of that desire, she was as indefatigable as she was judicious. No part of her character indeed, was more striking than her unwearied activity. She knew not what it was to be listless and indolent. From the hour of her

rising, which was always early, to that of her retiring to rest, with the exception of a few minutes of the afternoon devoted to repose, she was unceasingly employed, either in devising or in executing some scheme of private or of general benevolence. Of her it was literally true, that she was never weary in doing well. From every frivolous or useless occupation, she conscientiously abstained; and "every fragment" of time she carefully "gathered up, that nothing might be lost," of so precious a gift.* Her life was ex

* See, on this subject, some admirable remarks in Sir H. M. Wellwood's Sermon, No II.

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tended by the number of her years, beyond the usual limits of mortality; but, by the diligent employment of every hour, she enjoyed a length of days, to which it is the lot of very few to attain. Her, example in this respect, the Editor deems it important distinctly to point out, and earnestly to recommend, as worthy of all imitation.

No remarkable events distinguished the latter part of the Author's life. Her growing bodily weakness, was a continual warning to her, that the hour of her departure was at hand. She was attentive to the solemn warning; and while it excited no dissatisfaction, awakened no painful forebodings, disturbed not the serenity, animation, and cheerfulness, which formed such striking features in her character, it stimulated her to exert to the utmost, every remaining power, to occupy every talent, with which she was still entrusted, that at the daily expected coming of her Lord, she might be found watchful. The frame of her mind, at this interesting period, may be seen in the following short meditation, written by her, on her last birth-day, about six weeks before her death.

"June 14th, 1821. By thy good providence, O most merciful Father, I have this day entered into the seventy-eighth year of my age. Many indeed have been my failings and imperfections, but to thy goodness I am unspeakably indebted, that by the gracious arrangements of thy providence, I have been uniformly preserved, through the course of a long life, from the guilt of wilful