A few weeks previous to her death she was severely assaulted by the grand adversary of God and man, and at times, almost thrown into total despondency; but her soul was continually struggling for the fulness of the gospel blessing, and the week before her departure, after pouring out her soul to God in prayer, the cloud broke, and her sorrow was succeeded by joy unspeakable, and full of glory: she sung, she shouted, and clapped her hands, which before she was hardly able to raise, saying to all around, "help me praise the Lord; bless the Lord O my soul, and all that is within me bless his holy name. O! the fulness, the fulness of the gospel." From this until her death she enjoyed a clear evidence of her acceptance with God, and her prospects were bright for immortal glory; she exhorted those that came to see her to prepare to follow her, and faithfully declared that unless they should follow Christ in the humble way of the cross, they never would be able to enter in at the strait gate.

On seeing persons enter her room in gay apparel, she appeared to be much distressed on their account and would say, they come into see me die; but I fear they little think how soon they must die themselves. She talked as freely and as calmly about death, as she would of going a pleasant journey to see her beloved friends and her affections seemed to be unglued from earthly objects and set on things above; she would kiss her little babes and calmly resign them to the arms of her husband and the protection of her God. And though she manifested some anxiety to see her father, (who at this time was many miles from her), yet upon being informed that he would not soon return, she seemed fully resigned. She was not known to murmur or repine at any of the divine dispensations, and when one of her sisters in the Lord, sitting by her bedside, and seeing her exercised with much bodily pain, said, she was sorry for her; she looked up very earnestly and said, why are you sorry for me? these pains are nothing compared with what my Saviour endured for me. Sometimes she seemed to be wrapt in heavenly visions, and would break forth in joyful acclamations. Whenever her friends inquired what they should ask the Lord to grant her; she would reply, that she might be preserved blameless unto the coming of her Lord and Saviour, and that she might die in the triumphs of faith. She gave direction concerning her funeral, and requested that nothing superfluous should be used on the occasion.

Two days before her death she was thought to be dying, and the neighbours were called in, at which time the triumph of faith was conspicuous: she lifted her eyes towards heaven and exclaimed, "I'm going, I'm going, my soul is happy, I shall soon be with Jesus; glory, glory, glory, hail happy spirits, come Lord Jesus; Oh! why does he delay ?" On being asked if she

were not willing to wait the Lord's time, she replied, "O yes; but I thought I should not have to trouble you another night." To her friends that stood weeping round her bed she said, "do not weep for me, do not weep for me."

She discovered a peculiar concern for her brother, who at this time came to see her, entreating him not to rest till he should find the Lord; saying, "I hoped to see all my friends happy in the Lord before my departure; but I must leave them." The night before her death, while her husband was sitting by her bed, she repeated

"How happy every child of grace,
Who knows his sins forgiv'n;"

and requested him to sing the hymn for her. Whilst he was singing,

"A country far from mortal sight,

Yet, O by faith I see;"

her soul was filled with heavenly transports, and she struck in and sung distinctly,

Her husband being interrupted by the fulness of his soul, she exclaimed, “sing, still sing on."

While biding her companion her last farewell, she seemed to be filled with the joys of the upper world; and as earthly things receded from her sight, the ineffable delights of her celestial home shone with brighter radiance upon her, till, having her enemies under her feet, and the Christian's shield in her hand, she burst from the prison of clay, exclaiming as she passed its grates, "glory, glory, glory, amen, amen, amen."

Miscellaneous.

FROM THE ENGLISH METHODIST MAGAZINE.

Extract from a pamphlet, entitled, "Mr. Archibald Bower's motives for leaving his office of Secretary to the Court of Inquisi tion at Macerata, in Italy."

"I never, (says Mr. Bower,) pretended that it was for the sake of religion alone, that I left Italy; but, on the contrary, have often declared, as all my friends can attest, that, had I never belonged to the Inquisition, I should have gone on, as

most Roman Catholics do, without ever questioning the truth of the religion I was brought up in, or thinking of any other. But the unheard-of cruelties of that hellish tribunal shocked me beyond all expression, and rendered me, as I was obliged, by my office of Counsellor, to be accessary to them, one of the most unhappy men upon earth. I therefore began to think of resigning my office; but, as I had on several occasions, betrayed some weakness, as they termed it, that is, some compassion and humanity, and had, upon that account, been reprimanded by the Inquisitor, I was well apprized, that my resignation would be ascribed by him to my disapproving the proceedings of the holy tribunal. And, indeed to nothing else could he have ascribed it, as a place at that board was a sure way to preferment, and attended with great privileges and a considerable salary. Being therefore, sensible how dangerous a thing it would be to give the least ground to any suspicion of that nature, and no longer able to bear the sight of the many barbarities practised almost daily within those walls, nor the reproaches of my conscience, in being accessary to them, I determined, after many restless nights, and much deliberation with myself, to withdraw at the same time from the Inquisitor and from Italy. In this mind, and in the most unhappy and tormenting situation that can possibly be imagined, I continued near a twelvemonth, not able to prevail upon myself to execute the resolution I had taken, on account of the many dangers which I foresaw would inevitably attend it, and the dreadful consequences of my failing in the attempt. But, being in the mean time ordered by the Inquisitor to apprchend a person, with whom I lived in the greatest intimacy and friendship, the part I was obliged to act on that occasion, left so deep an impression in my mind as soon prevailed over all my fears, and made me determine to put in execution, at all events, and without further delay, the design I had formed. Of that remarkable transaction, therefore, I shall give here a particular account, the rather as it will shew in a very strong light, the nature of the proceedings in that horrid court.

The person, whom the Inquisitor appointed me to apprehend, was Count Vincenzo della Torre, descended from an illustrious family in Germany, and possessed of a very considerable estate in the territory of Macerata. He was one of my very particular friends, and had lately married the daughter of Signor Constantini, of Fermo, a lady no less famous for her good sense than her beauty. With her family, too, I had contracted an intimate acquaintance, while professor of rhetoric in Fermo, and had often attended the Count, during his courtship, from Macerata to Fermo, but fifteen miles distant. I therefore lived with both in the greatest friendship and intimacy; and the Count was the only person that lived with me, after I was made Counsellor

of the Inquisition, upon the same free footing as he had done till that time; my other friends being grown shy of me, and giving me plainly to understand, that they no longer cared for my company.

As this unhappy young gentleman was one day walking with another, he met two Capuchin friars; and, turning to his companion, when they were passed, 'What fools,' said he, are these, to think they shall gain heaven by wearing sackcloth and going bare-foot! Fools indeed, if they think so, or that there is any merit in tormenting one's self: they might as well live as we do, and they would get to heaven quite as soon.' Who informed against him, whether the friars, his companion, or somebody else, I knew not; for the Inquisitors never tell the names of the informers to the counsellors, nor the names of the witnesses, lest they should except against them. It is to be observed, that all, who hear any proposition, that appears to them repugnant to, or inconsistent with, the doctrine of the holy mother church, is bound to reveal it to the Inquisitor, and likewise to discover the person by whom it was uttered; and, in this affair no regard is to be had to any ties, however sacred; the brother being bound to accuse the brother, the father to accuse the son, the son the father, the wife her husband, and the husband his wife; and all bound, on pain of eternal damnation, and of being deemed and treated as accomplices, if they do not denounce in a certain time; and no confessor can absolve a person, who has heard any thing said, in jest or in earnest, against the belief or practice of the church, till that person has informed the Inquisitor of it, and given him all the intelligence he can concerning the person by whom it was said.

Whoever it was that informed against my unhappy friend, whether the friars, his companion, or somebody else who might have overheard him, the Inquisitor acquainted the board one night (for, to be less observed, they commonly meet, out of Rome, in the night) that the above-mentioned propositions had been advanced, and advanced gravely, at the sight of two poor Capuchins that the evidence was unexceptionable; and that they were therefore met to determine the quality of the proposition, and proceed against the delinquent agreeably to that determination. There are in each Inquisition twelve counsellors, viz. four Divines, four Canonists, and four Civilians. It is chiefly the province of the divines to determine the quality of the proposition, viz. Whether it is heretical, or only savours of heresy; whether it is blasphemous and injurious to God and his saints, or only erroneous, rash, schismatical, or offensive to pi

ous ears.

That part of the proposition, "Fools, if they think that there is any merit in tormenting one's self," was judged and declared

heretical, as openly contradicting the doctrine and practice of holy mother church recommending austerities as highly meritorious. The Inquisitor observed, on this occasion, that by the proposition, "Fools indeed," &c. were taxed with folly not only the holy fathers, who had all to a man practised great austerities, but St. Paul himsel, who "chastised his body," that is, whipped himself, as the Inquisitor understood it; adding, that the practice of whipping one's self, so much recommended by all the founders of religious orders, was borrowed of the great apostle of the gentiles.

The proposition being declared heretical, it was unanimously agreed by the board, that the person who had uttered it, should be apprehended and proceeded against agreeably to the laws of the Inquisition. And now the person was named; for, till it is determined whether the accused person should or should not be apprehended, his name is kept concealed from the counsellors, lest they should be biased, says the Directory, in his favour or against him. For, in many instances, they keep up to an ap pearance of justice and equity, at the same time that, in truth, they act in direct opposition to all the known laws of justice and equity. No words can express the concern and astonishment it gave me to hear, on such an occasion, the name of a friend for whom I had the greatest esteem and regard. The Inquisitor was apprized of it; and, to give me an opportunity of practising what he had often recommended to me, viz. of conquering nature with the assistance of grace, he appointed me to apprehend the criminal, as he stiled him, and to lodge him safe, before day light, in the prison of the holy Inquisition. I offered to excuse myself, but with the greatest submission, from being any ways concerned in the execution of that order; an order, I said, which I entirely approved of, and only wished it might be put in execution by some other person; for your lordship knows, I said, the connection. But the Inquisitor shocked at the word, "What?" said he, with a stern look and angry tone of voice, "talk of connections where the faith is concerned! there is your guard, pointing to the Sbirri, or bailiffs, in waiting, let the the criminal be secured in St. Luke's cell (one of the worst) before three in the morning." He then withdrew with the rest of the counsellors, and, as he passed me, "Thus," he said, “nature is conquered." I had betrayed some weakness, or sense of humanity, not long before, in fainting away while I attended the torture of one who was racked with the utmost barbarity; and I had, on that occasion, been reprimanded by the Inquisitor for suffering nature to get the better of grace; it being an inexcusable weakness, as he observed, to be any way affected with the suffering of the body, however great, when inflicted, as they ever are in the Holy Inquisition, for the good of the soul.