to take simply his Bible into the pulpit; and his manner, when preaching from it, was much more impressive than when he took notes with him, or used written sermons. He once told me, he found great difficulty in writing for the pulpit; but was afraid of being careless in his preparations; and begged that I would tell him of any fault I saw, and watch, and get those who were fit judges, and our friends, to tell me; and assured me this was my duty. In his last sickness, my husband observed: "I do not know what to think of my sermons: it was certainly little trouble to me to compose such as I did preach; but I am very much grieved with the fear, that I too much offered to God what cost me nought. Oh! I could preach now!"-But if I can, upon frequent recollection and mature deliberation, form any judgment, it was in family-exposition he especially excelled. Several not incompetent judges were of the same opinion. He fell at once into a style peculiarly his own, perfectly easy, without a particle of hesitation: it was something between the necessary formality of a sermon, and colloquialism, if I may use such a word. His ordinary method was, to go through the Scriptures; but the chapter selected for the family he had, I believe, previously thought upon, at least for the most part. His habit was, to read a few verses, sometimes only one at a time, throwing in an observation or two, which contained much matter in a few words: this was 01 undoubtedly a peculiar gift, evident in all his in structions. His public ministry was concluded by two sermons: one, upon the Christian's life,* from Genesis v. 24, Enoch walked with God; and he was not; for God took him :-the other, upon the Christian's death, from Philippians i. 21, To me.... to die, is gain. Four days after this, he received the summons from his Divine Master, which called him aside, to prepare himself for that rest which remaineth for the people of God. Those who then heard him, say that his soul seemed to be quite borne away to that glorious world, of which he was soon to be a blessed inhabitant. J *The first sermon printed in this volume. Thus far his surviving friends are indebted to the hand best able (though it must have cost the heart many a severe pang) to describe his later years, and the closing days of his valuable life. The little that remains to be added, is from the communications of one of his friends, and from the pen of his fatherin-law. Mr. Grinfield has, with equal delicacy and correctness, portrayed him, in the following terms: In person, he was slender and consumptive; 66 and, to allude to a very favourite passage of poetry with him-Southey's picture of young Carodoc, in Madoc Upon his cheek there was the sickliness Which thought and feeling leave, wearing away His countenance was plain, but very expressive of deep thought and calm intelligence. His fine and eloquent eye presented an example of the triumph of the soul over ordinary features." He was interred in Chiswick church-yard; and the following lines were written by his father-inlaw, as an "Epitaph on an unnamed Saint;" though (in conformity with his desire of avoiding ostentation) they were not inscribed upon his tomb. Allusion is made, in the eighth line, to an inscription still existing on the church-yard wall, stating that it had been built in 1623, "at y° charge of lord Francis Russelle." O spot rever'd! though thou may'st hold, Names more familiar to the great, And wider fam'd for wealth or state; Yet never, since the hallow'd hour When RUSSELL rais'd thy wall, t'embower, Against the last trump's dread alarm, The "wardrobe of God's saints" from harm No, never hast thou, holy earth, Clasp'd in thy womb more gentle worth, A form more dear to man or God, Than now reclines beneath thy sod! Blest Saint! I dare not :-thou hast said, In life, and on the dying-bed, Still meek and lowly; and but loss TO A NEPHEW, THEN ONLY SEVEN YEARS OF AGE : ON THE POWER OF EARLY HABITS. My Dear J Nottingham, March 30, 1814. I am much obliged to you for your letter; which, however, I am afraid was not written quite so well as you can write, if you take pains. You should always do every thing as well as you can, even if it cost you a great deal of trouble; and then by-and-by you will be able to do it well without trouble. I hope, now that the weather is fine, you are able to get out, and run about for two or three hours every day. Here is a very pleasant park in Nottingham, where the children play at foot-ball and trap-bat, and games of all kinds. It is all up and down hill, and in some places very steep; but the children are used to this; and so they run up and down places where you would not venture at |