never inhabited a female form.' * Her peculiar characteristics were gentleness, delicacy, graceful ness. That delicacy of taste and feeling, of sentiment and of manner, which shrinks not only from all impurity, but from all that is indecorous or ungentle; that "ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price," and so lovely in the eyes of men; that indescribable grace, which is so peculiarly feminine, and the absence of which nothing can compensate; these were peculiarly her's. They shewed themselves in every trifling circumstance, in every action and expression. All was easy and unpresuming, but all was elegant and highly finished. Her handwriting was very simple, but very beautiful. Her taste appeared in the selection of a few favourite authors in her native language, and in an acquaintance with French and Italian. She drew a little, and that little was very elegant. Music was her delight, and her resource in her hours of weakness and distress; she was well versed in its rules and its beauties, and composed in it with great simplicity and correctness. This divine art, one of heaven's best gifts to man, was a charm which dispelled her sorrows; and a sense of languor and dejection, and even pain itself, fled at the touch of her instrument. Her religious feeling partook * See the Memoir prefixed to Select Pieces by J. Bowdler, junr. of the general character of her mind. It was altogether meek and gentle, unostentatious and unpresuming, timid in regard of herself, and charitable to others. Her devotion was chastened, pure, and elevated; she had great delight in the services of the church, and she prescribed to herself the rule of never turning her back upon the table of the Lord when it was spread in her presence. The administering to the wants of her poorer neighbours was one of her most pleasing employments, and the value of her little gift was always increased by the graceful manner in which it was bestowed. Her gentleness was particularly conspicuous towards those who had been guilty of misconduct, and there was something unspeakably tender and affecting in the kindness and compassion which she expressed where she was obliged to censure. Such meekness and gentleness seemed ill adapted to this world; and for its noisier and gayer scenes she was wholly unfit; yet she was calculated to enjoy and even to adorn society; like many of her sex, shedding over it a mild and refreshing light, when the bustle of the day has ceased, and the glare of the brighter luminary is withdrawn. Even a moderate participation of its amusements or conversation could not, however, long continue; her strength gradually gave way, and she was much reduced. At this time, conversing with a friend on the state of her second brother, whose health was considerably impaired, she passed over the unfavourable symptoms of her own case with an easy and unaffected indifference. Her end, however, was near. It was marked by all the gentleness and timidity of her natural disposition, and the meek but elevated devotion of the servant of Christ. She retired within herself, communed much with her own heart in her chamber, and was still. A few days before her death she received for the last time the holy eucharist from the hands of a pious clergyman, who, upon leaving her, said, "No one could look upon her face without envy." On the morning on which she expired, she expressed in the most touching and tenderest manner her affection for her friends, especially her mother, and her hope of happiness through her Redeemer's merits; and having said "Amen" to a short prayer repeated by her father, she fell asleep." A few weeks before this mournful event took place, her parents had parted with their second son, who had suffered for some time from a cough, and other symptoms, which threatened dangerous consequences, and left England to pass the winter and spring in Malta. The sequel of his short history is well known. His restoration to society and to some enjoyment of health was transient and illusory. He died on the 1st of February, 1815, amid the brightest prospects of domestic comfort, and of distinction in his professional pursuits; but possessing so strong a faith and so lively a hope, as elevated him above all sublunary prospects and the severest disappointments. The readers of this memoir are well acquainted with the various excellencies of his character and the powers of his mind, having in their hands the volumes which were first circulated in private after his decease, and have since been given to the public. These form the fittest and best eulogy to the memory of the writer; and every part of them, particularly the letters, contain a faithful portrait of his character. A few remarks may not be unacceptable, as an addition to the short account of his life prefixed to those pieces. His feelings were naturally extremely warm, sometimes almost overpowering *. In his earlier * The following letter was written by him in his twelfth year:"Dec. 1st, 1796, Winton. 66 My dear and honoured Grandmother, "I received your little affectionate note last night; it has given me great pleasure and great pain;-but I am young, and depression of spirits does not last long. You, my dear grandmother, are old; yet perhaps the happier, for you have performed your part on this earth, and are prepared to enjoy a blessed immortality in heaven. I am young and inexperienced.—I have all the snares of vice to encounter, but should Heaven to you a lengthened date assign, be assured you shall never see J. Bowdler, junr. act unworthily of his ancestry, his country, or his God. May you be happy, and may you never forget your loving grandson, who in life or death will never forget you. I trust you are at present well enough to read and understand this. Whatever love, duty, or affection I owe you, imagine it all enclosed in this little billetdoux,- for indeed I have no other way of expressing it.- My heart is full, and I can no more. "Your's most dutifully, "J. B." years he was ardent and impetuous. Knowing his own powers, and full of confidence in them, he deemed no height too lofty to be attained, and no obstacles too arduous to be surmounted. Hence, though he was from the first much given to abstract and retired meditation, yet in competition with others, whether in the hours of study or amusement, he was always pressing forward, and ambitious of the highest place. Yet there was a strictness and correctness of principle, regulating his language and conduct, even in his early years, and a strong and deep sense of religion pervading his mind. His eager spirit shewed itself at the time of his quitting school, in a desire to enter the army. This was soon abandoned at the request of his father; and as the situation of a Proctor in London, though it promised many pecuniary advantages, did not hold out any prospect of distinction, he rejected an advantageous offer which was made him in that line, and resolved upon studying for the bar. Here, however, he was subjected to some temporary disappointment. For his father's circumstances were not such as to enable him to give his younger sons the advantage of a college education, and he was, by the advice of several able friends, articled to a respectable solicitor in the city. This was a situation ill suited to a youth of some classical attainments and much taste and genius; but his own exertions supplied the want of advantages which many others possess; and the |