self in the confined situation we have mentioned.You will consider all I have said as applicable to a teacher, not a private Christian; and know enough of me, I think, to be satisfied that I do not connect learning and religion together, as necessarily united: far from it. I have not room to tell you that I am interested in your perplexities of another kind. The reason you gave for not writing, was the very one that should have induced you to write. Perhaps it was vanity that led me to think that each of my letters merited a reply: be that as it may, I somehow expected one, was fearful you had overwalked yourself, or was ill. But this is my own foolish mind, ingenious at making itself uncomfortable; and when I found it was not so, I was shall I tell you almost piqued at your silence. Adieu.

"Your most sincere and affectionate friend,

"E. T."

"Northampton, Dec. 7.

"Were there any post to-morrow, I think I could not persuade myself to write to-night. My head is confused. I have been troubled all day with a distracting headach. This I say merely to excuse any nonsense I may send you. It is a complaint, to which I am sometimes subject, but does not continue long; I dare say to-morrow I shall be quite well. Praising another how far it is right-I am not in the habit of flattering, perhaps none less so; yet, I do not hesitate to tell my friends (those I am intimate with) of what I consider as their excellencies, nor I hope it is what I aim at- of their defects. I wish to form a true estimate of my own character. I would assist my friends to form a true estimate of theirs; neither exaggerating nor concealing their excellencies or defects. This is a nice point. I have not arrived at it, but am aiming to do so. It requires not a small portion of the spirit of Christianity; firmness enough to tell another of a fault; humility®

and sobermindedness enough to think rightly of oneself; feeling alone, if I may so speak, with the Deity-What does he think of me? The praise or censure of a fellow-being, if we feel as we ought to do, is incapable of having an undue effect on the mind. You esteem me, my dear friend. What will you think, if I say, that you ought so to do. I justly also esteem my dear friend. If we do not mutually think each other worthy of esteem, our regard could not be justified. We are to pass our lives together. We have mutually consented to do this. What are any little expressions of esteem after this! May we think soberly of each other; may we uniformly endeavour to improve each other in simplicity of mind. How much, I think, is comprehended in this word, simplicity, or singleness of mind! Not only no positive artifice, but no secondary view, &c. How any one, with the New Testament in his hand, and at all in the habit of reflecting, can be proud, is not to be accounted for. Will God indeed receive me, my dear friend? At what an immense distance in moral attainment must I always feel myself! And this is no affectation of humility.

This is a strange letter, no reply to yours. Excuse it the next, I trust, will be better. My head is unfit. I am not in the habit of complaining; and my aversion to this, makes me think sometimes that I have not sufficiently apprised you of the extreme delicacy of my health in general. Though, on the whole, certainly, better than it was, yet it frequently makes me unfit for society, the best and most endeared. You must lay in a great stock of patience, my dear friend. May you be blessed in every respect! Yours most affectionately,

"E. T."

In June 1805, Miss Tozer was married to Mr. Cloutt. Their union was of but short continuance. In anticipating her confinement, which took place in

March, she would often converse familiarly of her departure from this world, as though she had a premonition that the period was not far distant when it would be realized. With this impression, she set her house in order, arranging all her clothes, &c. even to a minuteness painful and distressing to her affectionate friends around her. On the 20th of March, she was safely delivered of a son; and the most promising hopes were entertained of her recovery, even to a better state of health, than she had hitherto enjoyed. These hopes however, proved fallacious, for, in about five weeks after, she was seized with an inflammation in her stomach, which terminated in mortification and death. During the season of her last illness, she was habitually composed and serene, free from the fear of death, and animated by the supports, promises, and prospects which the truths of the Gospel had long imparted to her mind. At one time she nearly repeated Byrom's Paraphrase on the Twenty-third Psalm, and desired Mr. Cloutt to read the remainder, expressing her satisfaction and joy in being under the care of so good a shepherd. At another time she said, when in great pain, "O what should I do, if I had my religion to seek now!" A short time previous to her death she said, Pray for me, all of you, pray for me. How trivial are all common-place comforts in my situation! We must use the means, and leave the event to God." When it was supposed by her husband, who was kneeling by the bedside, having her hand enclosed in his, that she was falling into a quiet slumber, on a friend's entering the room, it was perceived her spirit had escaped; though, such was her appearance, it was long before Mr. C. could be persuaded of the fact, and that he clasped only the breathless frame of his beloved wife. This quiet dismission was congenial to her daily prayer; an outline of which, as a sort of directory, she had some years ago drawn up, and which she generally had about her person, written

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on a card. Among many others, it contains these petitions: "O be with me in the hour of death! May I quietly give up my spirit to thee! May I live according to thy holy religion before, and may I then be supported by its consolations; and may my soul be received by thee, and purified and made to live with thee for ever."

Thus lived and thus died the subject of this Memoir. The memory of the just is blessed.

MRS. ISABELLA BROWN.

MRS. ISABELLA BROWN, wife of the Rev. John Brown, of Whitburn, was born in Kelso, the 21st of December, 1759. Her father was a man of natural good sense, though but little improved by education, of strict integrity, and an uncommonly unsuspicious and affectionate heart. He made a consistent profession of religion, and was a truly pious man. Her mother was a woman, both in manners and in mind, far above the station in which it was the will of Providence that she should spend her days. She had been early brought under the influence of true religion, and during a long life, (for she reached the uncommon age of ninety,) was a most ornamental professor of the faith of Christ. Her means of doing good were never very extensive, but they were always conscientiously improved to the utmost; and although never rich herself, she relieved the wants of the needy more extensively than many with ten times her income.

Under the care of such parents, and especially of such a mother, it is almost unnecessary to say that the subject of these notices enjoyed the advantages of a strictly religious education. She was one of many children, but she was the only one who survived the dangers of infancy and childhood. This circumstance enabled, and her promising talents and amiable disposition encouraged them, to give Isabella as complete an education as Kelso could afford, with the intention that, as her constitution was radically delicate, she might be fitted for gaining a livelihood by some of the lighter operations of female industry.

It is impossible to ascertain how early religion