remarks are enough to draw a strong line of separa tion and difference between the few who resemble Elizabeth R, and the many who present to the eye

no such resemblance.

It is sometimes confidently asserted, that such prin ciples as this poor woman adopted, and such doctrines as she espoused, are not orthodox, nor accordant with the sentiments of the Church of England, but are imbibed either at the Meeting-house, or under the ministry of a certain class of clergymen, who retain all the peculiarities of Puritanism, though they occupy stations in the Establishment. It might, indeed, be sufficient to compare these religious views with the language of inspiration. If they run parallel with each other, no more need be said to establish the truth, to enforce the authority, and to illustrate the importance of such principles and doctrines. But it requires only a single eye, cleared from the film of natural corruption, and unobstructed by the mists of theological polemics, to discern, that the volume, which contains the formularies, and the accredited sentiments of our British Zion, may be correctly denominated, a compendium of evangelical religion. From this, and from the Holy Scriptures, and from no other source, did my humble friend derive her opinions.* From principle

* Her attachment was not the offspring of ignorance or superstition, nor of that popish bigotry, which ensures salvation

as well as from education and habit, she was firmly, and I may say affectionately, attached to the National Church. The sacred and venerable structure with which that church had provided her, was her beloved and constant resort: its services were her delight; and its ministers she revered and loved. No consideration ever induced her to leave that house of prayer, where she had ever sought and found the presence of Him, whom she was accustomed to call her "beloved Saviour:" and though towards the

indiscriminately to all within, and denies it to all without, the pale of the Established Church. I remember calling at a cottage, in the first parish of which I was pastor, and found it inhabited by a couple in about their fiftieth year, whose swarthy countenances, stout limbs, and vigorous motions, bespoke perfect sanity of body. These cottagers I had inadvertently overlooked, as their dwelling was in a very sequestered corner. I endeavoured to draw their attention to those topics, which ought to distinguish and to consecrate a minister's converse with his people. Iu answer to a question I put to them, they told me, that their hope of heaven was founded on this, that they had always kept to their Church. To my great surprise, however, I soon discovered that they were wholly ignorant of my name and person. "What," said I, "have I been several months in the parish, and yet do you not know me? I fear this is a sign that you seldom go to the house of God." It was the fact. They had not crossed its threshhold since I had resided there, though they were within a few minutes' walk of the church, and their health and circumstances presented no impediment. Yet did these poor people rest their eternal salvation on their having, kept to their Church.

H

close of life her perceptions of divine truth became more clear and vivid, they were substantially the same when I first knew her. Her wisdom was his gift who has said, "The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day."

LADY M

LADY M

was an accomplished woman of fashion.

To a superficial observer, her life presented a wide and unbroken circle of enjoyments, as brilliant and as varied as rank and fortune could supply. Every day afforded her new delights, or brought back customary pleasures in a new form. Her character stood high with the world, for her splendid hospitality welcomed many to N Court; her affability gave ease to all1 who approached her; and her liberal charity drew forth the blessings of the surrounding peasantry. Her manners were highly fascinating. "In her tongue was the law of kindness:" not merely that glossy and smiling courteousness which is learned in the school of Chesterfield, and is regarded in the polite world as an essential accomplishment; but that cordial tenderness-that spontaneous and unassumed kindliness, which reaches the heart and captivates the affections. She never was forgetful of the courtliness becoming her rank, but her condescensions gave no pain. She was dignified without being repulsive, and complaisant without affectation. Her conversation was enlivened.

with ready wit, and often unlocked and displayed the treasures of a mind well stored with general literature, and an extensive knowledge of the world, which she had viewed with an intelligent eye.

But Lady Mwas not in possession of happiness, though she had within her reach those ingredients which are imagined to compose the cup of earthly bliss. In the midst of that splendour by which she was encircled, when she thought that no eye was surveying her, I have seen by a glance her expressive countenance lose all its gaiety, and exhibit the index of a mind ill at ease. Deep thought gave a fixedness to her eye, and palid sadness clothed her hollow cheeks, except when a hectic flush, that treacherous colouring with which consumption beautifies its victims, betrayed the canker that was secretly preying upon her life. The recollection of her at such moments is associated in my mind with the reply which Dr. Johnson once made to his friend Boswell, who pund had said, that "things are done on the supposition of happiness: grand houses are built, fine gardens are made, splendid places of public amusement are contrived, and crowded with company." "Alas, sir,

replied the great moralist, "these are only struggles for happiness. When I first entered Ranelagh, it gave an expansion and gay sensation to my mind, such as I never experienced any where else. But, as Xerxes