pleasure of extracting a sentence or two from the willing testimony which that friend has borne to the sterling worth of his amiable guest. I am the more anxious to do this, as it will unveil his character in private life, and shew us, what he was as the member of a family.

"We had the great advantage of Mr. Spencer's pious conversation and fervent prayers in the family for near four months, for he did not leave us till the latter end of April; it was indeed a pleasant, and I trust, a profitable season, which we often review with great delight. With what pleasing emotions have we often surrounded our domestic altar, and witnessed the fervour of his addresses to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. In this delightful employ, he never seemed to engage with half a heart, his whole soul was alive to the service of his God: he was serious in a serious cause, nor did any circumstances that arose ever seem to unfit him for the discharge of religious duties. Morning and evening he generally engaged in prayer at family worship; the variety he produced on these occasions has often astonished us; it was impossible to trace any thing like repetition, every prayer seemed quite new, and gave fresh proof of the powers of his mind, and the ardour of his soul.

"Mr. Spencer naturally possessed an amiable disposition, and was innocently cheerful; no one could say that gloom or melancholy was connected with his religion. In his manners he was simple and unaffected; any thing like ostentation or parade he disliked exceedingly; he would always, if possible, avoid mixing with large parties. The company of

serious, pious, plain Christians was his delight. He was kind, generous, and tender-hearted; the wants of the poor and necessitous he was ready and willing to relieve; To do good and communicate he forgot not, knowing that with such sacrifices God is well pleased."

But whilst all around him was prosperous and happy-whilst his ministry was successful beyond his most sanguine expectations-and hundreds were eager to administer to his comfort-his heart was the victim of anxiety and grief. The continued and alarming indisposition of his friends at Brighton, inspired his delicate and susceptible mind with the most gloomy and agonizing fears. It was well. His heavenly Father saw he needed some thorn in the flesh, under the circumstances of his unexampled popularity, to prevent his being exalted above measure-and to preserve his soul in a frame of holy solemnity, and humble reliance on himself. Lest the sun of his prosperity should dazzle him too much, these friendly clouds were permitted to intervene. Their salutary influence may be traced in the following letter:

No. 38.

TO MR. JOHN HADDON.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

Liverpool, April 16, 1811.

"The melancholy state of depression in which I have been held so long, must form my excuse for neglecting the sacred duties of friendship,

in not writing before this to you.--Oh! how soon ean Jehovah blast our hopes of happiness from creature comforts, to convince us of the uncertainty of all earthly good! We must "walk by faith," and live in the exercise of a lively hope, that we shall obtain a better and more permanent rest. I scarcely dare, for my own part, anticipate any other kind of happiness on earth, but what may arise from communion with the Saviour, and the delightful work in which I am engaged, which, I must say, amidst all my trials affords me increasing happiness and pleasure. Thanks be to God, the work of the Lord is prospering in my hand; and though I may not have much pleasure in this world myself, I hope I shall be the means, in the hands of the Holy Spirit, of putting into the possession of my fellow creatures, real and substantial felicity; this, the gospel I am enabled to preach is sent to confer. The next week I expect to go to my lodgings. I shall reside in a retired rural and delightful spot, with a family, (three only in number) who belong to the congregation in which the Lord has graciously called me to labour; it is about half a mile from the town, away from all bustle and noise, commanding a most delightful and enchanting prospect of both land and water. My study affords a most extensive view of fields and hills, the river, and the adjacent county (Cheshire.) I am persuaded it is every thing I could wish for as a plan for my residence. In that pleasant study* I expect to spend much time, and

* To me it is a melancholy reflection, that I should so soon become the occupier of a spot in which he had fondly pictured to himself so many years of pleasure. In his own

enjoy some degree of pleasure; and my dear friend will believe me when I assure him, that amidst the afflictions which our righteous Father judges the best schools for me, it would tend to alleviate my sorrowst and cheer my spirits, could he be in my new study, and as he did in my old one, occasionally spend an hour or two with me in social chat.

"Yesterday I laid the foundation stone of my new chapel, gave an address upon the spot, and dedicated the place to God in solemn prayer. The auditory consisted of not less than five thousand people, who were all fixed in their attention.

May I, on that ground, often find a solace for my cares, in the public worship of God! May he bless the undertaking! May his eyes and his heart be there perpetually!

"Farewell--I must break off by assuring you, that I am sincerely your's,

"THOMAS SPENCER."

The week following that in which he laid the foundation stone of the new chapel, Mr. Spencer made an excursion into the country, and preached on the Tuesday evening at Darwen, and on the Thursday evening at a meeting of ministers at Blackburn.

study on his own table-in his own chair-I am now drawing up these memoirs of his life;-around me are the fruits of his short, but laborious exertions—and immediately before my eyes the path by which he descended to his grave! From every object within my view, I am admonished, work whilst it is day, for the night cometh, when no man can work.' I would that every loiterer in the vineyard of Christ were attended by mementos such as thèse.

During this journey, he suffered much from the complaint to which he was subject-but although labouring under the pressure of severe indisposition, in the pulpit he rose superior to the influence of langour and pain-and his exertions on that journey are still spoken of by those who witnessed them, and they were many, with delight.

On his return to Liverpool, Mr. Spencer received a melancholy summons to Chester, to attend the funeral of his early and amiable friend, the Rev. Ebenezer White, and to deliver the oration at his grave. His obligations and attachment to that excellent man have already been recorded. When arrived at the scene of death, his delicate mind seemed overwhelmed in an agony of grief. He stood weeping in unutterable distress over the cold remains of his departed friend. His bosom formed for friendship, and even then the seat of no ordinary sorrow, was ill prepared to sustain the pressure of a stroke, by which he was suddenly bereft of one who had discharged for him the relations of the father, the tutor, and the friend! Mr. Walter White, who was the witness of his grief, has thus described it :—“ I shall not easily forget this dear young man's behaviour on the evening preceding my brother's funeral at Chester. We were standing together by the side of the coffin, viewing the corpse-he wept excessively, and clasping his hands with great emotion exclaimed, 'Oh! that I may but finish my course like him!' and turning to me, he said with his usual energy, Oh! what a fine thought it is, that the bodies of the saints are purchased by Christ as well as their souls.' And then passing his friendly

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