in the confidence, that amidst endless diversities of speculation, there is for all the practical purposes of religion, for all that creates or sustains the "life of God in the soul of man," one Lord, one faith, one everlasting hope. And looking only to the large catalogue of the honored and the good, whose names appear in these Memoirs, united amidst wide diversities of tastes and habits, opinions and character, station and fame, in friendship for a common object and in respect for each other, how cheering is it to believe, that their friendships are to be renewed and their minds made one in that higher fellowship of truth and love, for which these very diversities were among the means to prepare them! It is a solemn reflection, suggested by the instructive volumes we have been perusing, and impressed more deeply by the closing year at which we are writing, that of all this numerous assemblage scarcely an individual remains. Of the elder school, the guides and patrons of Miss More's youth, Johnson, Lowth, and Mrs. Montagu, every one has long since departed. Of the later, among whom were Porteus and Wilberforce, Pepys and Barrington, Mrs. More was herself for years the sole survivor. Öthers have succeeded to the places which they filled, and, in instances not a few, others still have succeeded to them. In our admiration of the virtuous and exemplary lives of many of these, far surpassing that of the honors they attained, we are not studious to inquire to what communion they belonged, or in what earthly temples, whether chapel or cathedral, they * Dr. Porteus died in 1809, in his 78th year, and his see has been since thrice successively filled. Sir William Pepys and Dr. Barrington were the last of her ancient friends. They both died in 1825, full of years and of goodness. With the former she maintained an affectionate and spirited correspondence for nearly half a century; and from the good Bishop, whose uniform kindness and that of his lady she long experienced, "she received more than one friendly note, written with his own hand, not many months before his decease, at the age of ninety-one." Here we may observe, that many of the letters of Mrs. More's correspondents are as lively and agreeable as her own. There are some others which the compiler might have omitted without detriment to his book. Of these are the epistles, long and labored, of the good Rev. John Newton, which, under certain technical phraseology and show of humility, betray what we suspect belonged to the man, whether as slave-dealer when a youth in Africa, or "Rector in his old age of St. Mary, Woo!noth," self-complacency, egotism, and the gift in no ordinary measure of being dull. VOL. XVIII. N. S. VOL. XIII. NO. I. 4 worshipped. For we believe, and no man may take from us our faith, that they will be found together with the good of all climes in a temple of which God himself, their common Father, is the light, and in a friendship and service that shall be eternal. Wesley and Watts have both copied the same sentiment from an apostle, and though sufficiently familiar to our readers, it expresses so well the beautiful instruction to be drawn from this work, that we shall need no apology for borrowing it from them. "The saints on earth and those above But one communion make; Joined to their Lord in bonds of love, "One army of the living God, To his command we bow; Part of the host have crossed the flood, But in these passing remarks on the religious views of Mrs. More, as developed towards the conclusion of her Memoirs, we have gotten far in advance of the orderly succession of events. And to those who look in every biographical notice for a regular series of dates from birth to death, from childhood and maturity to old age, we shall have but imperfectly fulfilled our office, unless we hasten back to gather up a few at least of the prominent facts, which we have suffered to escape in our wanderings by the way. At our last regular date, then, we left Mrs. More in 1785, that is, in the fortieth year of her life, closing one of her long annual visits to London, and preparing to execute a plan she had been for some time forming, of gradually withdrawing herself from general society, and devoting herself in retirement to pursuits, that were even in her youth more congenial to her taste and principles. This determination does not appear, as her biographer and others intimate, to have been the result. of any sudden or signal change in her views of religion or duty; but simply the accomplishment of what amidst the most brilliant attractions of fashionable society, she had decidedly preferred. A little after this period, namely, in 1789, her sisters, also, found themselves able by their prudence, assiduity, and success to retire from their task of education, with great credit and in affluent circumstances. Previously to taking this step, they had built for themselves a house in Bath; and between this as their winter residence, and a pleasant little summer retreat, near Bristol, called "Cowslip Green," also purchased with the joint fruits, as we infer, of their school and of Hannah's publications, they divided their time (Mrs. More still continuing, though much abridging, her visits to London), till 1802, when they all removed together to "Barley Wood," a more commodious residence, situated in a very healthful and picturesqne spot, almost in the vicinity of Bristol. To this they became so much attached, that they soon afterwards parted with their property in Bath, and made it their only home. Here, in this well-known and constantly visited retreat, from which so many of the letters and writings of its celebrated occupant are henceforth dated, the happiness of the sisterhood was interrupted by the death, in 1813, of Mary, the eldest, who had been even as a mother to Hannah, the instructress of her childhood,* and afterwards the delighted witness of the virtues and splendid reputation of her maturer years. In 1816 they lost their sister Elizabeth, and this affliction was followed in 1817 by one equally severe, in the death of Sarah, the next in age, whose vivacity and innocent wit, with a most amiable temper, made her the life and charm of their domestic circle. But in 1819, Hannah was called to a still heavier sorrow by the death, after an illness of only four days, of "her best beloved and sole surviving sister," Mrs. Martha More, nearest to herself in age, probably, therefore, as is common to brothers and sisters thus connected, her early confidant and friend, as she certainly was the cheerful and zealous partner of her charitable labors, her intelligent assistant, if not the head, in the sunday-schools, her tender nurse in sickness, and the inseparable companion of her healthful hours. These sad bereavements were aggravated by her own severe sicknesses, which were in several instances protracted and alarming. During the greater part of the year 1820, she was confined to her chamber, and was often afterwards a sufferer from acute bodily pains. But amidst all her trials she was faithful to her principles, and maintained with great beauty and consistency * As will be remembered, Hannah became the pupil of her eldest sister at the first opening of the school in 1757. The seminary appears to have been conducted exclusively by the older sisters, Hannah never taking part in the instruction. She was in London visiting; and they were in Bristol teaching. the filial submission, which in her "Practical Piety" she has so well inculcated. From this period, Mrs. More was the solitary survivor (for she seems to have had no near family connexion), — but by no means the solitary inmate of her house. Barley Wood was still the resort of numberless visitors, intimate friends, and entire strangers, anxious to see or to be seen of this eminent lady. The number is almost incredible of the guests of various pretensions and rank, some of the highest distinction, among whom were two Persian noblemen, others like many travellers from our own country, of which great was the company, attracted by her fame, and bearing recommendations from her friends, who were courteously received, and, as long as her health permitted, pleasantly entertained, all with the fruit of her lips, her instructive and animating conversation, and many with the fruit of her table, breakfast, luncheon, or dinner, as the hour of coming or other circumstances offered. "What do you think," she writes, in 1819, to Sir W. Pepys, "of my entertaining one hundred and twenty gentlemen and ladies at dinner last week, and about two hundred at tea? The superior part of the company, which attended a Bible meeting in our village, adjourned afterwards by my invitation to Barley Wood." This surely was an enterprise of no common moment; such as few ladies, married or single, even with the hope of thereby entertaining angels, would have ventured. But with her, hospitality was a favorite virtue. Her domestic establishment, including not less than eight servants, of whom, as she found to her cost, were a coachman and a gardener, was on a scale of simple, tasteful elegance, which her success as an author enabled her without carefulness to sustain. Nor was she at all averse to the variety and excitement which such society furnished her; and from a vanity as natural as it was pardonable, of which most others would have betrayed more with much less merit for its apology, she seems to have encouraged this flattering resort of visitors, even when in the opinion of her friends her infirmities would have justified or perhaps prescribed retirement. "It must be confessed," says her biographer, cautiously adverting to this delicate subject, "that as her valuable life drew towards its end, her mind partook more and more of the general decay, and that for some time previous to her departure she was unfit, though unconscious of her unfitness, to receive the visits of homage, respect, or curiosity, which continued to flow in upon her. But her philanthropy, which she had always indulged to an extent bordering on excess, made it an uneasy effort for her to refuse admittance to any visitor; and however expedient on many obvious grounds it was to spare her these excitements, this comparative seclusion was not so agreeable to herself as it was satisfactory to others." and Clifton was the last earthly residence of this honored and lamented lady. Her removal thither from Barley Wood, in 1828, under the vexatious domestic troubles to which we have sufficiently adverted, may be considered as the close of her active and intellectual life. From this period till her death, a space of more than five years, her health was never otherwise than in a very precarious state, and she was seldom free from pain. But to the very last her eye was not dim. She could read with ease and without spectacles the smallest print. Her hearing too was almost unimpaired; and, as a constant attendant observed, " until very near the close of life her features were not shrunk, nor wrinkled, nor uncomely, her person retained to a considerable degree its wonted appearance, as at a much earlier period." It must also have been a high gratification to her friends, that, amidst the undeniable decay of her vigorous mind, the kindness of her affections, the sweetness of her temper, her considerate and active charity suffered no diminution or abatement. The arrangements of her will were in perfect consistency with the wellknown benevolence of her life. Almost the whole of her property, amounting to about £30,000 or nearly $140,000, she bequeathed to various religious and other charities; among which those of Bristol, in the neighbourhood of which she lived, where her sisters had early found in their school distinguished patronage, and of the best society of which they were themselves a part, were specially remembered. She died on the 7th of September, 1833, in the eighty-eighth year of her age. As we have no opportunities of judging of the character of this admirable woman, which are not equally possessed by our readers, her works and her Memoirs, -any eulogium we might offer, after the facts we have exhibited, however just, might be deemed superfluous. We prefer to leave with them the testimony of a faithfully attached and long valued friend; of one who saw Mrs. More, not as the world sees its followers |