company, never came out of it without being the better or the wiser for having been in it. Such were the charms of his conversation, that, when his mouth was opened, all were listeners; and though his fondness for chymical subjects would lead him occasionally into details, interesting only to persons skilled like himself, yet even then his object was to improve others, or promote science, and not to display his own superiority.

In the course of time he became a minister of the Gospel in the religious society of which he was a member. His services were acceptable in his own neighbourhood, and he was not in the habit of travelling from home as a public instructor. But though his sermons were always affectionate and full of encouragement to the humble and broken-hearted, yet his efforts in this line, it must be confessed, by no means corresponded with the inexhaustible powers displayed by him as a teacher in private conversation. Here he shone unrivalled, "familiarily expressing gigantic sentiments and instructive wisdom," agreeably to the observation made on the late Lord Chatham's oratory.

The effect produced on his mind by the writings of Swedenborg, was, beyond all question, salutary. As an acknowledged minister, and as, what is technically termed a consistent Friend, he could scarcely be expected to be altogether free from the esprit du corps, which, in past times, was more prevalent in the religious society to which he belonged; a society, which, whatever may be said of it in other respects, has undoubtedly made rapid advances, of late years, in the exercise of an enlarged and liberal spirit. Under such circumstances, a temper naturally ardent and hasty, would occasionally break out into petty acts of assault on the caps of his daughters, all of whom inherited their father's relish for good society, and some had no ambition to appear more forbidding than their neighbours. Not that his hostility to a smart cap bore any resemblance, in degree or kind, to the churchprostrating wrath of a John Knox; yet it is nevertheless certain, that, now and then, a propensity to destroy had the upper hand in him. But after he had imbibed the doctrines of Swedenborg, this propensity subsided; Christian forbearance prevailed; his temper was, in every respect, purified and sweetened; and of faith, hope and charity, all which graces he possessed in abundance, he fully verified the apostolic declaration, that "charity is the greatest."

On his first opening one of Swedenborg's works, the book was soon thrown down in a fit of disgust. From some cause or other, not now remembered, he was induced to make another trial: and whether the inspiration of the heavenly nature of conjugial love was congenial to his own feelings; or the doctrine concerning heaven, as a kingdom of active usefulness, appeared rational and scriptural; or, above all, the unfolding of the true nature and attributes of the SOLE OBJECT OF DIVINE WORSHIP flashed conviction on his mind; it is certain that, from that time forward, he became gradually more and more convinced of the soundness of the views which the Swedish theologian had taken of scriptural truths. Whether he gave full credence to all the Memorable Relations, is not known with equal certainty. Possibly he might adopt a remark, which has been made by another reader; "What I do understand, I find to be excellent; therefore what I do not understand I conclude to be so too." If such were the tenor of his reasoning, who will undertake to pronounce it either illogical, or inconsistent with Christian humility, or the modesty that marks the true philosopher? So convinced, however, did he become of the truth and utility of the works, that he, in part, translated from the original Latin, and prepared for publication, the Treatise on HEAVEN and HELL, under the revision of Thomas Hartley, a pious clergyman of the church of England in Northamptonshire.

Hartley was a man of the same affectionate disposition, and the same enlarged views of religion; yet, from a nervousness of constitution, more inclined to shrink from society and discussion. They corresponded for some time before they were personally acquainted, until the repeated interchange of sentiment had produced such a union of soul, that when they met for the first time, they flew into each others arms, as if they had been old acquaintance. Shortly before Swedenborg's death, they both visited him at his lodgings in Clerkenwell. The interview must have been interesting, but the particulars of it are not recorded, except that it was impossible to avoid noticing the remarkable innocence and simplicity of Swedenborg, and how, on inviting him to dine with them, he politely excused himself, adding, that his dinner was already prepared, which proved to be a simple meal of bread and milk.

The new views of religion which opened on Mr. Cookworthy's

mind, did not relax the ties of affection which bound him to the Society of Friends. But he was taught to look less at the form, and more at the spirit and substance of things; and where others would have been stopped by scruples, he felt none; occasionally remarking, that he used to pray to be preserved from scruples. No doubt he did not confine himself within that narrow pale, which his more rigid, though perhaps equally conscientious, but less enlightened brethren might deem essential; and, when in London, his valued acquaintance at the west end of the town had as strong attractions for him, as those of a more sombre cast. At all times he entered fully into the lively sallies and innocent enjoyments of youth; and preserving to the last the cheerfulness, and the fresh and warm feelings, of his younger days, he was a happy illustration of what has been aptly termed, a green old age.

The closing scene of his life has been frequently related; but as it is desirable that things should be twice told, rather than that one circumstance of importance should be forgotten, it may be proper to mention, that when Dr. Gasking called on him one day, as a professional man, as well as a friend, and asked him how he was, he replied, "I'll tell thee how I am, Gasking,-no doubts -no fears—but a full and certain assurance that I am going where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest.” On Dr. Gasking's return to the parlour, the usual enquiry took place, "How do you find my father?" "Find him," said the doctor, so as I would give all I am worth in the world to change places with him."

During his life, he had looked at death with something like dread, not from a fear of bodily suffering, but from the awfulness of that great change; but when the hour arrived, which was evidently to remove him from things terrestrial, and when his hands and feet were already dead, he said to one of his daughters who was in attendance on him, "And is this death, which I have so long dreaded? This great, this mighty change! What is it? Why, ceasing to breathe, that is all."

In the course of the preceding day, he asked his medical attendant, how long he thought he could live? After a pause the apothecary replied, "Why, Sir, I should hope you might live four-and-twenty hours." "Hope, dost thou say," was his answer, "and is that a subject worth a hope?"

With his family round his death-bed, he is stated to have ex

pressed himself to the following effect, "I must say with the apostle, Little Children love one another; hate every thing that is in the least contrary to love, in your life, in your conduct to one another. What shall I say to mankind? That if they feared God, they would be happy. Tell them, your father did not love 'Dying Sayings;' yet this you may add, that he says, The LORD GOD ALMIGHTY is love, and nothing but love to his whole creation."

Near his close, he said, that "death was like putting off an old coat to put on a new one;" and after noticing that he was sinking comfortably, he died quietly in his own house on the 17th of October, 1780. His funeral was attended by marks of public respect: All the shops were shut in the streets through which the procession passed, and the principal gentlemen of Plymouth, after the immediate relatives and friends, followed the body to the grave.

His general character is thus sketched by one of his near relations-"Sublime dignity, mingled with strong energy, exquisite sensibility, unrivalled candour, and almost infantile simplicity, made such a compound as I have never seen any approximate to. All these noble and delightful qualities of mind were, by turns, unveiled in his countenance, which was formed to picture correctly whatever passed within. Indignation at baseness, and contempt of meanness, were as vividly expressed, as was his delight at an instance of generosity, or any good that belonged to, or attended his friends, or indeed any human being; for the whole human family were his kinsmen, and for those he knew, he appeared to feel the interest of a friend. There was, I think, this distinction observable in his emotions, that, when displeased, his dislike was pointed at the conduct or sentiment, not at the person; but when gratified by observing good conduct in others, the person made a part, and was included in the gratification, so that he loved to praise even by name.

"His candour marked itself by an immediate acknowledgment of error or mistake. He considered it beneath a man to hold an opinion with obstinacy, when convinced of its incorrectness, and therefore, when so convinced, he gave up his own as willingly as he at first embraced it. Yet he had not this task to perform very frequently, since with colloquial powers far beyond the common No. VI.-VOL. I. 3 M

allotment of man, and great strength and clearness of argument, his love of truth was so entire, that he never, I believe, argued for victory, and he weighed the opinion of his adversary with as much candour and fairness as he would his own: this temper gave him unspeakable advantage in the formation of his judgment, and left little cause for change of views, where circumstances remained the same.

"Politeness was the constant companion of his conduct, and being the fruit of his heart as well as of his understanding, was exercised with the same delicate attention to a child, or an inferior, as to those of talent or rank. This I have seen exemplified in daily instances, but do not recollect one in which this noble habit was forgotten or neglected.

"When in company with persons of talent and education, he took up subjects as they were presented, either of literature, science, or politics, but by a power all his own, he gradually drew them to a serious termination, and led frequently, if I may so express myself, to religion and to God, whose awful Omnipotence and Omniscience, and whose boundless Mercy it was the delight of his soul to contemplate. After an interview of this description, Captain Jervis one day returned to his ship, and going to the cabin of the chaplain, his intimate friend, called to awake him, saying, ' Gardener, you must awake, for I have had such a day with Mr. Cookworthy, as you must hear of before I can sleep.' He then began, in animated language, to describe the delight he had felt, when Gardener (who related the circumstance) began to enlarge on the pleasure of a life dedicated to religion and virtue. Hold your tongue,' said the Captain, abruptly, "if I delight in hearing Mr. Cookworthy's instruction, I did not come to receive a sermon from you; I came to make yon participate in my pleasure.'

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• To sum up all in a few words-as a minister he was clear, pathetic, engaging, persuasive, beyond all language, and indefatigably assiduous.

"As a parent he was watchful in his example, affectionately tender in his advice, and a constant encourager of piety and virtue. "As a member of society, he was a promoter and preserver of harmony, peace, and good-will; and few have more essentially contributed to social order and happiness.

"As a friend, through Christian tenderness and true sympathy, his mind was ever possessed of the finest feelings of human