friendship, she was peculiarly happy in her friends— except in having several, most dear to her, torn from her by early death :—such was the case in the present instance. Jane's new friend was the youngest of the four lovely daughters of a physician, esteemed for the excellence of his private character, as well as for his professional ability. He died about the time of which I am speaking; leaving a widow, four daughters, and a son. The intercourse of this family with ours, during several years, was so intimate and frequent, as to claim mention in this memoir, especially as they are frequently referred to in Jane's correspondence.

The eldest of these young ladies was distinguished in an eminent degree by intelligence and sweetness of disposition, and loveliness of manners and of person. Her charm was that of blended dignity and gentleness. Not long after the commencement of my sister's intimacy with this family, she exhibited symptoms of the malady of which, in the course of a few years, herself and her sisters, were the victims; and died, after spending two or three years in frequent, but hopeless changes of scene, among her friends. The second daughter, though less lovely in person, and less gentle in disposition than her elder sister, endeared herself to her friends by the affectionate warmth and candour of her disposition. The progress of her fatal illness was more rapid than in the case of her sister :-she died in the preceding

year, at a distance from her home; and her younger sister soon was laid in the same grave. Jane's friend was little inferior either in intelligence or in loveliness to her eldest sister. Many of the letters that passed between her and Jane are before me, and although there is not a little of girlish romance in them, they afford proofs enough of great energy of character on the one part, and of much warmth and tenderness of feeling, and originality of thought on the other.

This young lady quickly followed her three sisters to the grave. She had been sent, more than once, to the West of England; and died, on her way thither, at Basingstoke, December 12, 1806. Her death, under the peculiar circumstances which attended it, made a deep impression upon the mind of her friend ; and is indeed so fraught with instruction that it may well claim a page in this memoir.

The mild and gentle spirit of their mother did not supply to these young women the loss they had sustained in the death of their father. They soon learned to pay too little deference to her wishes and opinions; and finding herself unable, by gentle measures, to control the high spirits of her daughters, she left them, with a faint show of opposition, to follow their own tastes. Her inefficient influence seemed rather to accelerate than retard their abandonment of the principles or prejudices, as they were fondly called, of their education. And so eager were they to

"think for themselves," that a very short time sufficed to confirm them in the contempt of every principle they had received from their parents. This tendency of their minds to discard whatever they had been taught in matters of belief, was unhappily aggravated by their witnessing a general laxity of manners, and some flagrant scandals among the religionists whose creed was already the object of their scorn. And such offences are sure to produce the utmost mischief in the minds of young persons whose education, while it has elevated their notions of the requirements of christianity, has failed to affect themselves with the spirit of piety.

In addition to such unfavourable circumstances on the one side, these young ladies were exposed, on the other, to the most seductive influence from the connections they had lately formed at a distance from home. Many of their new friends were persons at once intelligent, refined in manners, amiable in temper, and perfectly versed in all the specious glozings of Socinianism. And Socinianism at that time was much more specious than at present. For, within the intervening period, the course of controversy has deprived its professors of an advantage-so important to the success of infidel insinuations that of having itself no defined system of principles to defend.

In the society of persons of this class these intelligent young women quickly imbibed the spirit, and learned the language of universal disbelief; and

whatever might have been their early devotional feelings, they became confessedly irreligious in their tastes, and habits. This change was but little obvious in the placid temper of the eldest of them. She was, indeed, fascinated with the showy simplicity of this masked deism, and perplexed by its sophistries; but she thought and felt too much ever to be perfectly satisfied with the opinions she had adopted: her mind had rather been entangled than convinced. During her illness she seemed anxious to retrace her steps; and in the last days of her life she earnestly recommended her sisters to addict themselves with greater seriousness and humility, to the reading of the scriptures; and died imploring, with mournful indecision, to be "saved in God's own way."

Jane's friend was not at all less forward than her sisters, to renounce what she termed "the errors of her education;"-she was even more determined and dogmatical than some of them in her new professions. This difference of opinion, along with other circumstances, had lessened the intimacy between the two:—they maintained, however, to the last, a friendly correspondence; though the subject of religion was, by the desire of the former, banished from their letters.

After many changes of place, she once more left Colchester, accompanied by her mother, on her way to Devonshire; but was soon compelled to make her last home at an inn on the road; where she lingered more than three months. The disappointment of

her strong wish to reach Exeter, awakened her to the knowledge of her immediate danger; and this apprehension was soon succeeded by all the terrors of an affrighted conscience. The conviction of being an offender against the Divine Law, and exposed, without shelter, to its sanctions, took such full possession of her spirit that, for a length of time, she rejected all consolation and endured an agony of fear, in expectation of dying without the hope of the Gospel. At length, however, her mind admitted freely and joyfully the "only hope set before us ;" and she fully and explicitly renounced the illusions by which she had been betrayed; declaring them to be utterly insufficient to satisfy an awakened conscience, in the prospect of standing at the bar of the Supreme Judge. She lived long enough to display many of the effects of this happy change:-the whole temper of her mind was renovated; she became patient, thankful, affectionate, and humble; and triumphed in the profession of her hope: My hope," she said, "is in Christ--in Christ crucified :-and I would not give up that hope, for all the world."

The course of the memoir has been anticipated by this digression: I must now revert to the time of my sister's first acquaintance with these young ladies. The close intimacy and very frequent intercourse of the two families very greatly promoted the mental improvement of all parties; for there were advantages of different kinds possessed by each, which