soon raised Mrs. Grant into much deserved popularity, and procured for her the patronage and friendship of many influential individuals, and particularly of the late Bishop Porteus, Sir Walter Farquhar, Sir William Grant, Master of the Rolls, and many other eminent persons.

"In the year 1810, Mrs. Grant removed from Stirling to Edinburgh, where she resided during the remainder of her life. Here it was her misfortune to lose successively all her remaining children, with the exception of her youngest son, who still survives. The submission with which she bowed to the will of Providence, under these heavy bereavements, excited the admiration of her sympathizing friends.

"The only other works of any magnitude, which Mrs. Grant prepared for the press, were her 'Memoirs of an American Lady,' already referred to, and her 'Essays on the Superstitions of the Highlanders of Scotland,' both of which have been favorably received. The former work has been greatly esteemed, both in this country and in America, and contains much vigorous and powerful writing, with sketches of transatlantic scenery and habits, during a primitive period, which the quarterly reviewers have characterized as a picture of colonial manners, just in their happiest age, given with a truth and feeling that cannot be too highly estimated. Indeed, her description of the breaking up of the ice on the Hudson river is so admirable, the materials are so skilfully put together, and the impression made is so vivid, that Mr. Southey is reported to have pronounced the whole picture as ' quite Homeric.'

"But, perhaps, the most just and eloquent account which can be given of Mrs. Grant's writings is that which Sir Walter Scott appended to an application, which, under the superintendence of her friends, was made, in 1825, to his late Majesty, George the Fourth, for a pension to Mrs. Grant, and which bears the signature, not only of Sir Walter himself, but also of Lord Jeffrey, Mr. Mackenzie (the Man of Feeling), Sir William Arbuthnot, Sir Robert Liston, and Principal Baird, who all took a great interest in this application. In the document, now referred to, it is said, 'that the character and talents of Mrs. Grant have long rendered her, not only a useful and estimable member of society, but one eminent for the services which she has rendered to the cause of religion, morality, knowledge, and taste. Her literary works, although composed amidst misfortune and privation, are written at once with simplicity and force; and uniformly bear the stamp of a virtuous and courageous mind, recommending to the reader that patience and fortitude which the writer herself practised in such an eminent degree. Her writings, deservedly popular in her own country, derive their success from the happy manner in which, addressing themselves to the national pride of the Scottish people, they breathe a spirit, at once of patriotism, and of that candor which renders patriotism unselfish and liberal. We have no hesitation in attesting our belief that Mrs. Grant's writings have produced a strong and salutary effect upon her countrymen, who not only found recorded in them much of national history and antiquities, which would otherwise have been forgotten, but found them combined with the soundest and the best lessons of virtue and morality. We need scarcely add, that Mrs. Grant's character in private society has been equally high and exemplary; and it would be most painful to us to think that the declining

age of this excellent person, remarkable alike for her virtues and her talents, should, after such meritorious exertions to maintain her independence, and after so long a train of family misfortunes, have the bitterness of these privations aggravated by precarious and dependent circumstances.'

"It is gratifying to state that this application was completely successful, and that Mrs. Grant received a pension of one hundred pounds, yearly, on the Civil Establishment of Scotland, which, with the emoluments of her literary works, and some liberal bequests by deceased friends, which subsequently emerged, rendered her latter years quite easy and independent.

"Mrs. Grant's conversational powers were, perhaps, still more attractive than her writings. Her information on every subject, combined with her uniform cheerfulness and equanimity, made her society very delightful. There was a dignity and sedateness, united with considerable sprightliness and vivacity, in her conversation, which rendered it highly interesting; and, withal, it was so unaffected and natural, and seemed to emanate from her well stored mind with so little effort, that some of her profound and judicious remarks, as well as her liveliest sallies, appeared as if they had been struck off at the moment, without any previous reflection. The native simplicity of her mind, and an entire freedom from all attempt at display, soon made the youngest person, with whom she conversed, feel in the presence of a friend; and if there was any quality of her well balanced mind which stood out more prominently than another, it was that benevolence which made her invariably study the comfort of every person who came in contact with her.

be men

"In reference to Mrs. Grant's conversational powers, it may tioned, that, in a series of Letters, published several years ago, a very competent judge, after observing that, of the 'blue stockings, the French are the most tolerable, and the Scotch the most tormenting,' adds, that their favorite topics at Edinburgh then were, 'the resumption of Cash Payments, the great question of Burgh Reform, and the Corn Bill.' He goes on to say, that, at an evening party, 'I was introduced to Mrs. Grant of Laggan, the author of 'Letters from the Mountains,' and other well known works. Mrs. Grant is really a woman of great talents and acquirements, and might, without offence to any one, talk upon any subject she pleases. But, I assure you, any person who hopes to meet with a blue stocking, in the common sense of the term, in this lady, will feel sadly disappointed. She is as plain, modest, and unassuming, as she could have been, had she never stepped from the village whose name she has rendered so celebrated. Instead of entering on any long commonplace discussions, either about politics, or political economy, or any other of the hacknied subjects of tea-table talk in Edinburgh, Mrs. Grant had the good sense to perceive that a stranger, such as I was, came not to hear disquisitions, but to gather useful information; and she therefore directed her conversation entirely to the subject which she herself best understands — which, in all probability, she understands better than any one else — and which was precisely one of the subjects on which I felt the greatest inclination to hear a sensible person speak, namely, the Highlands. She related, in a very simple, but very graphic manner, a variety of little anecdotes

and traits of character, with my recollections of which I shall always have a pleasure in connecting my recollections of herself. The sound and rational enjoyment I derived from my conversation with this excellent person, would, indeed, atone for much more than all the blue stocking sisterhood have ever been able to inflict upon my patience.' - Peter's Letters. I. p. 308.

"Soon after this was written, and nearly twenty years ago, Mrs. Grant had the misfortune to meet with a severe fall, in descending a stair, in consequence of which she was ever after confined almost entirely to the house. This, it was feared, would have proved very injurious to the health of a person of her robust constitution and active habits; but, though she was generally confined to her chair, she still continued to enjoy excellent health, and her usual cheerfulness and equanimity. The great blandness and delicacy of her general manners, as well as her singular benevolence, and her patient and submissive endurance of those great sufferings, which arose from her various severe trials and afflictions, may be traced, in a considerable measure, to the influence of those religious habits which, it is believed, she sedulously cultivated, and which enabled her to repose the firmest confidence in her Heavenly Father, and in his wise and overruling providence. She was a firm believer in the doctrines of Christianity; and, while she spoke humbly of her reliance on the merits of the Savior, she gave reason to believe that she partook of the comforts and consolations which can be derived from no other source. Though she never made any display of her religious feelings, those who were in the habit of visiting her frequently found her engaged in the study of the holy Scriptures, which, indeed, her life and practice evinced she had not studied in vain.

"A few weeks ago Mrs. Grant caught a bad cold, which assumed the form of influenza, and her constitution gradually yielded to the influence of this debilitating malady. She died at Edinburgh, on the 7th of November, in the 84th year of her age; and her remains are interred in the new cemetery of the parish church of St. Cuthbert, in this neighborhood."

Obituary Notice. Died, at Chelmsford, Massachusetts, Nov. 18, 1838, the Rev. William Andrews, aged twenty-eight. We are permitted to insert an extract from the discourse of the Rev. Dr. Brazer, of Salem, delivered at his obsequies.

These remarks,* my friends of this Church and Society, will not be deemed inappropriate to the sad and solemn event which has this day called us together. We have great need, under circumstances like these, to revive and strengthen our religious confidence and trust. How sudden, how affecting are the vicisitudes of life! How startling the admonitions of Divine Providence! How little did we think, when less than three

*On the "Uses which should be made of the Present Darkness of God's Providence."

years ago, we met you here, as ministers, to welcome our young brother to the sacred office, and to rejoice with you in the auspicious promises of that occasion, that we should so soon meet again, as we do here and now, to mingle our sympathies with yours, over the mortal remains of our brother. But God's will be done.

If I may be pardoned for a slight personal reference, I may well share in the sorrows of this hour, for I was intimately and peculiarly connected with my young brother, your minister, from his early years. He was born in the parish which is committed to my pastoral charge. He received the holy Rite of Baptism at my hands. He was committed to my especial care by the dying lips of his father. He united in our public religious services during the whole course of his childhood and youth. I observed with friendly interest his honorable career at our University. I watched over his faithful preparation for the preaching of the Gospel. I was taken to his counsel in reference to his settlement in the Ministry. I shared in those services which solemnized your union with him here. And now that these connexions are all broken off, and these happy prospects all darkened, I can well sympathize in your grief.

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And yet your relations to our young brother were nearer and more intimate still. He was with you at your fire-sides. He continually sympathized in your welfare. He joined hands in holy bonds, when hearts had been before tenderly united. He was a Son of Consolation in your afflictions. He stood as a comforter by your beds of sickness. He offered your prayers your sad bereavements. He led your devotions in this house of worship. He brought here the best products of his mind and heart, for your religious improvement, and administered to you here the tokens of a dying Savior's love. Well then may you mourn. Well may you mingle together your holiest sympathies, on an occasion like this. Well may you pour forth your tears over his bier. May God comfort you, my friends, with all the sufficing hopes of the Gospel of His Son.

But forget not, while you mourn, the alleviations with which even this sad trial is accompanied. His professional life, though short, was pure, honorable, useful, and continually improving. His message, though brief, was faithfully delivered. He has quickened, I doubt not, by the mild and gracious influences even of his short life and labors, those germs of piety that will be matured here, and bear fruit forever. Rejoice in the belief, that though his career was so suddenly cut off, he yet achieved for himself the highest and last attainment of the longest life,

a mature Christian character. His mind was free, discrimi

nating, and continually improving upon itself. He loved the truth. He loved it for its own sake, and as God's great instrument of good to the undying soul; and he sought it with a single aim. His heart was tender, pure, affectionate, confiding. And though from a constitutional diffidence, he was not able to make a full display of all he felt and thought, yet few felt more acutely, or thought more maturely than he. He would, from these causes, have preferred a private and secluded sphere of action, but he considered it wrong to yield to this preference, and sacrificed on all occasions his private feelings, to what he deemed to be the claims of duty. This internal conflict was apparent in his public labors to those who knew him well, and gave a peculiar and touching effect to services which, in them. selves, were always sensible, well-considered, appropriate, sincere, and deeply serious. In all the more private walks of life, he was a light, a comfort, a blessing. In the relation of a Son, a Brother, and a Friend, he has left nothing to be lamented, but that they were so suddenly broken off by his death. But I need not dwell longer on this theme. I know it would be useless to those whom I address. You knew him; you loved him; and you require no words like these, to remind you of what you have enjoyed, and, alas! that I must say so, of what you have forever lost. "Lost" -did I say, "forever lost!" No. He will not be thus lost to you. His memory will remain with you. His counsels will remain with you. What he has done and suffered for you will remain. His example will remain. All that was truly himself will remain with you, in tender, solemn, enduring recollection. And let it so remain, as he would have it remain, could he speak to you, not from the shrouded bier before us, but from that happier world, where, we trust, his pure spirit has gone. Let it so remain, that in all your future lives, you shall honor his memory, by being what he would have you to be.

I have but a few more words to add, and they are to press upon your attention the last he ever wrote. As I was prepar

ing this necessarily hasty and very imperfect tribute to the memory of my friend this morning, in his accustomed place of study, I found a sermon just commenced upon the pensive remark of Job- "For we are of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow." These with one or two introductory sentences, were probably the last words he ever wrote. He was not, indeed, permitted to utter them; but associated as they thus are with his memory they should fall upon our hearts, with an emphasis, that no mere words can give. How affectingly are they enforced in the early and rapid ter