themselves of this opportunity to bring her under the power of the Gospel. In the spirit of true Christian friendship, they made her acquainted with sound, evangelical principles. She received them in faith and love; adorned them in her life; and found them her triumph in her dying hour. From this period, the Christian motive of love to her Lord gave life and spirituality to her moral duties. Religious exercises became her soul's delight. She ordinarily retired three times in the day for private prayer; at morning, noon, and evening. Love to God led her, with cheerful feet, to the courts of the Lord's House: a privilege which she so highly valued, that she rarely permitted inclement weather, or the decay of her health, to interfere with it. Though filial affection may be suspected of exaggerating a mother's excellence, yet I must do her the justice to say, that in every department, in which I could observe her, she was a lovely ornament of religion; particularly, as a daughter, a mother, and a mistress. As a daughter, she was very kindly attentive to her father, who died at the advanced age of eighty seven; and on his deathbed; acknowledged, in the most affecting manner, his long experience of her filial duty. As a mother, I must repeat what you, my dear sir, have frequently said, that you never saw such an instance of maternal affection. This indeed is a subject, on which I hope I shall never think without heart-felt gratitude to her, and to God who gave me so excellent a parent. As I was her only child, and she a widow, she might, perhaps, lean to the side of over-indulgence. Yet, if my heart does not deceive me in trusting that I love the ways of God, I am indebted, through Divine grace, for that inestimable benefit, to her great and tender kindness, her uniform example, and particularly to her pious and affectionate letters when I was about thirteen years old. Such indeed has been the impression of her parental affection, that though my friends, I believe, have never charged me with filial negligence, yet, since her decease, I have regretted very frequently that, in many little instances, I conceive I might have shown her still more respect and affection. As a mistress, she exhibited not less excellence. If she erred, her error was the excess of kindness and humility. In the few changes which happened in her service, her first attention was to the spiritual welfare of a new servant. And I have the pleasure to state, that by the Divine blessing on her pious conversation, on the religious books which she put into their hands, and on the kindness of her deportment, three of her servants were awakened to a deep sense of religion. If she observed, in any of her acquaintance, the least appearance of incipient picty, I well remember with what tender anxiety she would pray for them, warn them, encourage them, and strive to fan the spark, and prevent its expiring. Yet, with this amiable lustre of character, while no one doubted of her eternal safety, she was full of doubts and fears herself. Self-suspicion, and a`dread of judging too favourably of herself, prevailed in her mind. In the year 1779, it pleased God to lay the foundation of the disorder which at length occasioned her death. A severe fit of illness confined her to her room for six or seven months. From that time she was much afflicted with a species of rheumatic gout, which occasioned great pain, weakness, and swelling, in her joints. The last year of her life, she was unable to rise from her seat without assistance; and was almost in a state of helplessness. The disorder, at length, attacked her stomach. An entire loss of appetite took place; and a perpetual sickness, which baffled all medicine. God now visited her soul with more peculiar manifestations of his love. She believed her end to be ap proaching; and seemed to be gradually filled with unspeakable joy as the day drew nigh, which forever terminated all her sorrows. On the Sunday preceding her decease, she took hold of my hand, and seemed much animated. "God,” said she, my dear, has been very gracious to me!I am very happy! I am going to my mansion in the skies. I shall soon be there; and O! I shall be glad to receive you.-If ever you have a family, tell your children they had a grandmother who feared God, and found the comfort of it on her deathbed.--1 exhort you to preach the Gospel, faithfully and boldly: fear not the face of man. Endeavour to put in a word of comfort to the bumble believer; to the poor and the weak. I heartily wish you success; may you be useful to the souls of many!" After she had dictated the letter to you, which was delivered to you the next day, she spoke with transport of the boundless love of Christ, and of his salvation. "It is," she cried out, "a glorious salvation !a free, unmerited salvation!--a complete, eternal salvation! It is a deliverance from every enemy.--It is a supply of every want.-It is all I can wish for in time.It is all I can now wish for in death.-It is all I shall want in eternity." She then thanked and praised God for the great comfort which we had experienced in each other; for the union which subsisted between us; and for the blessed hope that, though we parted for a season, we should one day meet, to part no more. On the following day, she mentioned the circum-' stance of a person, who, in an agony of mind upon his deathbed, said: "How shall I go through this great scene?". She paused for a few minutes, and then exclaimed: "It is a blessed scene, it is a glorious scene, to me!--I am going to my God ;--I shall see the king in his beauty --I shall be forever near him;--I shall for ever sing his praises." Her heart seemed almost overpowered with sensations of gratitude, in reflect ing upon God's goodness towards her. "God," said she, has greatly indulged my desires; has answered my prayers in a wonderful manner. How mercifully has he dealt with me in sparing me so long, to see you, my son, so much settled in life!" The hour was now approaching in which I was to part with the valuable parent, to whom I had been so long endeared; whom I highly respected and sincerely loved as a friend, and admired as a real Christian. Severely keen were my sensations: this event had been all my life dreaded. But the agonies of pain to which I had been an eyewitness, reconciled me, in some degree, to a separation; and the assured confidence of her eternal salvation, would not permit me but to rejoice in the approaching felicity of one, to whom I was so nearly related.--How thankful ought I to feel, that her valuable life was so long continued; and that I had, for so many years, the benefit of her instruction, her example, and her prayers! On Friday morning, the twelfth of November, 1784, my beloved parent expired. Shall I murmur, shall I repine, at such an event? Forbid it resignation! forbid it filial affection! No! let me not sorrow as one without hope. I lately had parent languishing under continual pain; I have now a parent whom no disquietude approaches. I lately had a parent in a world of distress and danger; I have now a parent in a world of glorified spirits. I saw her lately on earth, fainting and expiring; I see her now in glory alive forever. I have now another attachment to the skies. O! never, let me think of her, but as in the immediate presence of her God, uniting with the countless number of the redeemed, in the eternal anthem of triumph, gratitude, and praise! Thus, sir, I have given you a few particulars respecting my dear parent. I flatter myself that they will afford you some degree of pleasure and satisfaction. I remain, reverend and dear sir, With the greatest respect and affection, BASIL WOODD. LETTER VI. Rev. William Jones to February 10, 1799. My dear friend, Though I am in a very low and sorrowful state, I am not insensible to the expressions of your kind, consolatory letter; for which I heartily thank you, and pray that the effect of it may remain with me. The prospect which was before me for several weeks, kept my mind under continual, and, as I feared, insupportable agitation: till, after a painful struggle, I could find no relief but by bowing my head with silent submission to the will of God; which took place only a few days before the fatal stroke. I have found it pleasant in time past to do the work of God; to demonstrate his wisdom, and to defend his truth: but, O my dear friend! I never knew till now what it is to suffer the will of God; though my life has never been long free from great trials and troubles. Nor was I fully sensible of the evil of Adam's transgression, till it took effect upon the life of my blessed companion, of whom neither I nor the world was worthy. If I could judge of my case as an indifferent person, I should see great reason to give thanks and glory to God for his mercies. We had every preparatory comfort; and death, at last, came in such a form as to seem disarmed of his sting. A pious clergyman of this neighbourhood, who is my good friend, administered the communion to my wife, in her bedchamber, |