great portion of its members! While some dominant passion of depraved nature prompts the activity of many, others sink down into listlessness, and seem to live for scarcely any purpose but to eat, and to drink, and to sleep. No concern for their immortal welfare wakes the energies of their minds. The wonders of nature tempt not their curiosity-its glories excite not their admiration. They feel no desire to trace the perfections of their Maker, in the volume of creation, or in the book of God. They seem to live without an object, to act without an end; at least, without any purpose worthy of a rational and immortal creature. Their passions play about the centre of their own little selves. They die, and are not missed in the church or in the world; their loss is not felt beyond their own domestic circle. But such was not our departed friend. The wonders of creation attracted his attention, and excited investigation. He loved "to follow nature up to nature's God;" but his supreme delight was in those contemplations to which the sacred page of inspiration directs our minds. The renewing grace of God had given his mind a useful and a happy turn; it led him to consider the brevity of life, and to "work while it is called to-day." The world was benefited by his example, and the church by his labours. His talents, his industry, and the extent and variety of his business, gave him a very considerable influence in Amersham. He was considered, both by Episcopalians and Dissenters, as a common benefit. His assistance

was sought by most in cases of difficulty and distress ; to advise in perplexities, to console in affliction, and to adjust differences. As a man of business, he did as much as many whose sole occupation it is; and as a minister, there are but few, perhaps, whose time is devoted exclusively to the ministry, who have done But short is the span of human life: he had now nearly completed his "threescore years and ten,” and "the time of his departure was at hand.” An account of his last moments I shall reserve for my next, and shall therefore conclude by assuring you that

more.

I am, &c.

LETTER VIII.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

WE have traced Mr. Morris in his journey through life; let us now attend him at its close. We have remarked the rise and progress of religion in his soul, "first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear;" we shall now see the heavenly Husbandman "put in the sickle because the harvest is come," and gather home to himself “ a shock of corn fully ripe."

The growing infirmities of Mr. Morris's age, rendered it necessary that, for some time before his

death, he should have assistance in his ministerial

continue to preach three

The forenoon service was,

labours. He could not times on the Lord's day. for some years before his death, taken by Mr. Dorrell, a deacon of his church, and occasional assistance was rendered by neighbouring ministers. In the year 1815, Mr. Morris, believing that the time was fast approaching when he should leave the church below, was anxious that every thing respecting the meeting and his flock, should be settled in such a manner as to prevent disputes from arising after his death. He therefore proposed that new deeds should be made, to secure and convey in trust, the ground given at different times, by himself and Mr. Wm. Morton, one of the deacons, for enlarging the meeting house and burying ground. Younger trusts were chosen, and new deeds were made, not only to secure the ground already given, but to prevent any one who should hereafter possess his property adjoining, from building workshops, houses, or any thing which might darken or incommode the place of worship, or obstruct the way to it. Every thing of this kind being settled, there appeared but one thing more that he wished to have done, which was, to have the path from the street to the meeting house paved, which was done agreeably to his wishes. He had now lived to see the meeting house built, twice enlarged, well secured, and the only thing which was wanting to render it complete effected; but in superintending this last improvement, towards the close of 1816, he

caught a severe cold, which produced a serious indisposition, that for some time entirely suspended his pastoral duties, and confined him from the public services of the sanctuary.

The seclusion of a sick chamber, must be a gloomy solitude to him, who knows no other pleasures than those which the world, and the things of the world afford. But Mr. M. had been taught to derive his happiness from a higher and more permanent source. He knew how to appreciate every earthly comfort which a beneficent Providence vouchsafed; he could enjoy the pleasures of the social circle; and he delighted in the solemnities of public worship: but no change of outward circumstances could interrupt his intercourse with the "Father of Spirits," remove the basis of his hope, or dry up the fountain of his joy. That grace which cheered the hearts of the disciples, and inspired their praises at midnight, when imprisoned, sore with stripes, and fastened in the stocks, imparted to his mind a "peace which passeth understanding.” In the "days of darkness" God was his "sun and his shield." His mind was calmi-his hope was strong-for he knew that all which coucerned him, as to his life or death, time or eternity, was under the gracious superintendence of infinite wisdom and goodness.

At this time, by his particular request, two of his junior brethren in the ministry, met once a month at his house, to spend an hour or two in conversation on some religious subject previously proposed. One

which, I think, at his suggestion was discussed, was "It doth not yet appear what we shall be." When the state of departed saints, before and after the resurrection of the body, was the leading topic of discourse. You may well suppose that the situation of Mr. M. on the borders of eternity, with the expectation of very soon associating with the "spirits of the just made perfect," gave additional interest to this interview.

After this, our friend recovered sufficient strength to resume his labours occasionally; and several of his discourses appeared to indicate the state of his mind, relative to his approaching change; such as Job xxx. 23, "For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living." Matt. xxv. 46. "And these shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eter. nal."

On the 13th of April, 1817, the last Lord's day he was ever to preach, his texts were; in the afternoon, Rom. ix. 6. So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy." In the evening, Eph. iv. 1, 2, 3, but principally the 2d verse. "With all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love."

The next day he had intended to go to London on a trial, had not the weak state of his health induced him, to decline the journey. It seems quite providential that this was the case; before the Monday