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still more desolate in appearance by torrents of rain. We were obliged to continue in the chaise in ascending hills where the horses; and were even constrained to travellers almost always alight to relieve do the same in passing a frightful precipice, where there is neither fence nor

which she may be considered as being rendered classic ground. Here, when the sea, beating over the house in which she and her family were lodged, gave presage of an approaching storm, heroine would stray along the hedge; and where a chaise, very lately, fell over. shore, unintimidated by wind or At this point, a fine mountain scene opened upon us; and a sudden turn rain-gazing on the surge which is of the road discovered the enchanting vale produced by the meeting of the and village of Linmouth, close to the sea, giant waves of the Atlantic, and and at the base of rocks of tremendous the confined tides of the Bristol in their colouring. After a long and steep height, and most exquisitely diversified channel, which together falling ascent, we reached the inn where, fortuupon the rocks, give a fine exhi- nately, the room we occupy overlooks a bition of the sublimity and beauty This ina stands near the edge of the preconsiderable part of this fine prospect. of a sea-storm. The scenery of cipice that overhangs the sea, and seems Lea, in particular, gave rise to to be in the clouds. To-morrow morning the fragment entitled "Philip," we are to meet a chaise from Minehead, the first in the Poetical Remains. being so steep that chaises rarely come at the top of the opposite hill-the ascent On her return from Ilfracombe, in the May of 1813, a visit was paid to the most romantic part of the North Devon Coast, about eighteen miles east of Ilfracombe, which is thus described in a letter written to her parents.

"Here we are at this celebrated part of North Devon; we arrived yesterday about four o'clock, and I think you will pity us when I tell you, that from an hour after we left Ilfracombe, to the present moment, it has rained incessantly. We calculated upon getting in time enough to ramble before evening, and to spend the whole of this day in exploring the beauties of the place. Instead of all this, we have been obliged to content ourselves with sitting before a blazing fire, turning over an odd volume of the Gentleman's Magazine; Warner's Walk in the Western Counties; and the Miseries of Human Life; nor is this all, for I awoke yesterday at Ilfracombe, with every symptom of a bad cold, which is now at its height; so that I have had no hope of going out, even if the weather had cleared up. This is pleasure! Ann and Isaac have twice ventured out in the course of the day, and have taken a hasty view of the valley of rocks, and of the village of Linmouth; and I have had the satisfaction of hearing a description of what I am within half a mile of, and came on purpose to see. -However, not to make the worst of our story, I must add, that when we arrived within about two miles of Linton, a scene of grandeur and beauty opened upon us which alone would repay us for coming. We had travelled several miles over a high, wild, and dreary tract of country;-giving the idea of travelling over the world as a planet, and rendered

across the valley.'

"On Thursday morning, finding my cold surprisingly better, and the weather being finer, I resolved, at least, to see the valley of rocks: so at half-past five, with a hasty sight of it. The scene gives we set off full speed; and I was gratified the idea of gigantic architectural ruins; and the impression left upon my mind by the novelty and silent solemnity of this magnificent scene, will not soon be effaced. We returned to breakfast at the inn, and directly afterwards set off to climb the opposite hill; attended by a horse with panniers, carrying our luggage. This

walk afforded us an opportunity of seeing
something of the beauties of the vale of
Linmouth, which I will not attempt to
describe at the summit of the hill we
found our chaise; and at the end of the
day reached Taunton; where we staid a
day with Mr.
- and the next, set out
for Axminster; and found the kind-
est welcome from our dear friends.""-
PP. 127-129.

The second winter passed at
Ilfracombe was employed in
writing the admirable tale, after-
wards published under the title of
"Display," which can scarcely
be read without detecting and
correcting the vanity of the hu-
man heart, both in the grave and
in the gay.
It is interesting to
observe the manner in which this
effort of her pen was composed.

"It was her custom, in a solitary ramble among the rocks, for half an hour after breakfast, to seek that pitch of excitement, without which she never took up

the pen; this train of thought was usually exhausted in two or three hours of writing; after which she enjoyed a social walk; and seldom attempted a second effort; for she had now adopted the salutary plan of writing in the morning only; to this plan she adhered ever after, with only occasional exceptions."

At Marazion, in Cornwall, Miss Taylor enjoyed, as she considered, new and important advantages from the acquaintances she formed. These were chiefly with persons who were zealously attached to the Established Church; she also had the opportunity of witnessing the exertions of the Wesleyan Methodists, whose labours in this part of the country have been abundant and successful. The effect, however, of all her observation and reflection, was, without bigotry towards others, to confirm her own previous views, as attached to congregational dissent; the opinions and practices of which she deliberately considered most accordant with the representations of Holy Scripture. There being at Marazion no society of her own denomination, she gave proof of her catholicism, by cheerfully labouring for two years in the Sunday School connected with the parish church of that place, only requesting exemption from teaching the catechism in use in the Establishment, which was candidly conceded on the part of those with whom she was thus a fellow-labourer.

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The success of " Display," in which is evinced so profound and delicate a knowledge of the workings of the human heart, tended to counteract, in some measure, that diffidence of her own powers, which she was too much disposed to cherish; and now, at the suggestion of her friends, she began to write her Essays in Rhyme," by which, it is scarcely too much to say, she may be regarded as the Cowper of the female world. A friend, to whom this manuscript was submitted, recommended to

"

her, it appears, the concealment of her opinions on some subjects, which

were not calculated to please all her readers; but her mind was too noble and independent to be shackled by the contemptible design of aiming to please all by the sacrifice of important truth. There are some minds of so variable a nature, that they can assume any form at your service. They are perfect Proteuses: if you are cold, they are a fire to warm you; if you complain of heat and faintness, they become a wind to fan you; and, in short, they are just almost what you please. They are very chameleons; they have no fixed complexion, but change with every aspect of the light that shines upon them. The following is the reply to the above suggestion :

"It is now time to refer to a former letter of yours, respecting certain passages in the Essays in Rhyme. It is scarcely necessary to say, after having written them, that I do not quite agree with you, as to the propriety of total silence, on all disputed subjects. Had that plan been. always pursued, what would now have been the state of the world! I am very far from blaming Mr. Cunningham for writing the Velvet Cushion; (his doing it unfairly is another thing;) and with regard to introducing particular sentiments in works of a general nature, it appears to me one of the best ways of doing it. Who ever blamed Mrs. More for poking the steeple into almost every page of her writings? What happened to Miss Hamilton for making the hero of her novel a dissenter? or, which is more to my purpose, what has been the consequence of the severe sarcasms of Cowper upon the church and its ministers ? The consequence is, indeed, that he is hated by the high church party; but that does neither him nor his works any harm. What harm ́did he suffer from the review of his poems when they first appeared, by our old friend the Critical Review, when they said — This is an attempt to be witty in very lame verse?' I grant it is probable that no proselytes have been gained to any party by what he wrote; but who will deny that the diffusion of the liberal sentiments that abound in his writings, has been of great service to the cause of truth and moderation? Do not suppose I am here placing myself by the side of Cowper : -I am only pleading against the system

of observing a profound silence on all controverted subjects; in works of a general nature.""--pp. 154, 155.

We truly admire the decided tone, and the profound deference to the authority of divine revelation, which are exhibited in her reply to some criticisms of a different kind :—

"You will not be surprised, and I am sure you will not be offended, to see in how few instances I have availed myself of your criticisms, if you reconsider the nature of them :-- that is, how very few were merely literary. To that few I paid every attention; -- most of them bad already been marked for correction, either by myself, or other critical friends; but I was disappointed to find so few of that description; and still more, to find so many relating to matters of opinion, which you would hardly expect I should give up. I cannot guess why the very same opinions--or creed, if you please, (for I

know that is a word you are particularly fond of) which were, I believe, expressed with quite as much plainness in Display, should offend you so much less there. You say, indeed, that you have only remarked upon that style of language which refers to a party; not to a principle; but on the contrary, I found not a single note upon those few passages in which I write as a Dissenter. If you mean to call religious sentiment party, I shall not dispute

the term with you. Christianity has had

a great many ill names from its commencement, to this day. But they have never done it the least harm, nor ever will.

Do you think I would condemn you for

using a prayer-book, or kneeling at an altar-for going under water; or even for wearing a broad brim? No. But as I would not make my creed narrower than

that of the Bible, so I dare not make it wider. There is no other name under heaven, whereby we must be saved :'

He that believes shall be saved; he that believes not shall be damned.' This is all I would contend for, and all, I think, t that I have contended for, as essential; and if it is to this you object, I fear not boldly to say that you are wrong. And my heart's desire and prayer is, that you may be led, as many a confident opposer has been, to what I must still maintain to be the only place--the feet of Jesus.'

I think your prejudice--may I say your party spirit (for never does party spirit show itself so openly, or speak so narrowly as when it embraces the sceptical creed) has got the better of your good taste, in the present instance: your taste is good, when left to its free exercise; but in several of your criticisms I scruple not

to say you have, under the influence of other feelings, betrayed a very bad one.

Where, for instance, you object to passages that are simple quotations from the Bible. Here I can speak quite confidently, in a literary view, that the effect of such quotations is good; and that they confer a dignity on the verse. Where, for instance, I have introduced, almost literally, those passages In thy presence is fulness of joy'-'In my father's house are many mansions'--I am sure that I am more classical than you, in your very ill chosen remark upon them. That these expresby Lady Huntingdon; or Mr. Huntsions have been quoted a thousand times ington,' cannot render them at all less affecting or sublime; and to call such language religious cant,' is, in my opinion, irreligious eant.?"-pp. 155--158.

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In 1816, while still at Marazion, were commenced the contributions to the Youth's Magazine, which continued for the space of seven years, and which, no doubt, greatly promoted the popularity of that valuable little miscellany.

About the year 1816, Miss Taylor's health began to decline; but she now derived increasing comfort from her religious principles; and the natural pensiveness of her temperament, which disposed her to look too much on the dark side, yielded more to the influence of a mature judgment.

In 1817, the doubts she had previously entertained of her personal religion were happily dispelled, and she rejoiced in the salvation of the Redeemer. She now publicly professed her faith in the Gospel, by complying with the appointment of Jesus in reference to the commemoration of his death, "Do this in remembrance of me," which she had not the courage to do before; and her honoured father had the happiness of receiving such a daughter as a

member of the Christian church at Ongar, in Essex, under his pastoral care. Her account of this event, in a letter to her sister, a few months after it occurred, is too interesting and important to be omitted. We are not surprised at some of our critical brethren treating the religious experience of the subject of this me

moir as they have done-it would not suit their taste-a stranger intermeddleth not therewith. The account is the following:

"My mother told you of my having joined the church. You may have supposed that I was frightened into it, by my complaint; but I feel thankful that this was not the case; for it was not till after I had consulted Mr. Clyne, that I felt any alarm about it; uor had I before, any idea, of its being of a formidable kind. My mind, all the summer, had been much in the state it has been in for years past, that is, unable to apply the offer of the Gospel to myself; and all confusion and perplexity, when I attempted to do so. One evening, (about three weeks before going to London for advice,) while alone in my room, and thinking on the subject, I saw, by an instantaneous light, that God would, for Christ's sake, forgive my sins:- the effect was so powerful that I was almost dissolved by it. I was unspeakably happy; I believed that had I died that moment I should have been safe. Though the strength of the emotion soon abated, the effect in a great degree remained. A fortnight afterwards, I told Isaac what had taken place, and he urged me to be proposed immediately to the church. It was in this state I went to London; and when I heard what was to me wholly unexpected, I could not but consider the change in my feelings as a most kind and timely preparation for what, but a few weeks before, would have overwhelmed me with consternation and distress. As it was, I heard it with great composure; and my spirits did not at all sink till after I returned home. Since then I have had many desponding hours, from the fear of death. The happiness Í enjoyed for a short time has given place to a hope, which, though faint, secures me from distress.'”—pp. 164—166.

After this, she engaged more actively than ever in acts of Christian charity; such as, a working society of ladies for the benefit of the poor, and in constant and sedulous attention to the duties of a Sabbath-school teacher, an employment which one day will be found to out-shine all the gaieties of the party, or the assembly. One afternoon in the week she devoted to the instruction of her Sunday-scholars in writing and arithmetic. She also promoted the objects of the Bible Society, in her neighbourhood; which, as NEW SERIES, No. 14.

it demanded some kind of publicity, to which she was peculiarly averse, evinced, in a conspicuous manner, the triumph of principle over habits and feelings too diffident and retiring even for her own sex.

Her health still continuing to decline, Miss Taylor was prevented from entering on some literary projects,which had previously engaged her thoughts, and, besides the papers above mentioned, she wrote only the work executed conjointly by herself and mother, in the form of correspondence between a mother and her daughter at school, and a few of the pieces in the Poetical Remains. She was now unexpectedly placed in circumstances which, in the depressed state of her health, contributed to agitate her mind, and to call into the fullest exercise that submission to the will of God, which is the last attainment of nature renovated by divine grace. She distinctly anticipated a fatal termination to the disease which had so long been making inroads on her constitution, and, in a letter to her sister, affectingly remarks, " it requires much to extinguish utterly the ultimate hope of recovery ;"timent which proceeded not so much, probably, from the fear of death, as the lingering love of life.

-a sen

As the event, which society has much reason to lament, drew nigh, her religious feelings, which, through the native delicacy and timidity of her mind, were long covered with the veil of reserve, assumed a more full and distinct expression. After remarking that the doubts of her personal salvation, which were wont to disquiet her mind, originated chiefly from the high standard she had set before herself of the requirements of Christianity, her biographer thus proceeds :

"Of the way of salvation, as a free and full provision of mercy, she seemed to have N

a clear apprehension; but she had long believed that, from the want of a sufficiently explicit, particular, and authoritative exposition of the law of Christ, as given to us in His discourses, and in the preceptive parts of the epistles, the Gospel is extensively and fatally abused in the professedly christian world; and she trembled lest the flatteries of self-love should delude her into a similar presumption.

"It will be seen, from her letters, with how much pleasure she listened to those preachers with whom the great doctrine of salvation through the sacrifice of Christ is the principal subject; and who, following the example of the apostles, make the freest offer of this salvation to their hearers. But still, she listened, with jealousy, to the glad tidings thus proclaimed, unless constantly accompanied with a fearless, distinct, and uncompromising exposition of the parallel truth, that' every one shall receive according to his works.' Her frequent expressions were such as these I have no doubt as to the way of salvation --it lies upon the surface of the Scriptures; and appeals with the force of truth to every heart that is humbled by the conviction of personal guilt: but those who shall receive the benefit of this free salvation, and who shall be accounted worthy to stand before the throne,' are those who, on earth, are meet for heaven, by being truly like Christ:-and am Iare the mass of those of whom we are accustomed to think well--are they like Christ?'

"Entertaining such views, my sister was often distressed with the apprehension that there are indeed few who shall be saved;' and not being able to class herself among the few whose eminent holiness of temper, and of life, and whose abounding labours in the Lord, distinguish them, beyond doubt, as the disciples of Christ, she was long unable to admit the comfort of assured hope."--rp. 176--178.

mother,

66

I am now quite happy -as happy as my poor frame will bear." The following is the account of her last moments :

"When carried up stairs on Monday night, she, for the first time, allowed her sister to do every thing for her. She passed the night quietly; but in the morning felt herself unable to rise as usual:-about ten o'clock her brother read a Psalm, and prayed with her. Soon afterwards she was placed in an easy chair by the bed side. About the same time one of her brothers arrived from London :-- to him she spoke with the most emphatic earnestness, professing, very distinctly, the ground of her own hope, and the deep sense she then had of the reality and imHer voice portance of eternal things.

was now deep and hollow-her eye glazed, and the dews of death were on her features; but her recollection was perfect, and her. soul full of feeling. While thus sitting up, and surrounded by her family, in a loud, but interrupted voice," she saidshadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Though I walk through the valley of the Thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'

Soon afterwards she repeated, with Watts; the same emphasis, the verse of Dr.

'Jesus to thy dear faithful hand

My naked soul I trust;

And my flesh waits for thy command
To drop into the dust.'

Repeating with intense fervour the words—
'Jesus to thee-my naked soul-
My naked soul I trust.'

"Being then placed in bed, all withdrew but her sister; with whom she conversed some time, giving her several particular directions, with great clearness. She then requested that every thing in the room might be put in the most exact order: after this she lay tranquilly an the laborious heaving of the chest: and hour or two; seeming to suffer only from in reply to a question to that effect, said she was quite comfortable.'

6

"In the afternoon she observed her brother to be writing a letter she inquired to whom: being told it was to

That blessed hope, however, it was her happiness, in the sequel, in a considerable degree to enjoy. Accidental exposure to cold, in consequence of protracting an interview with some intimate friends in London, which it was known must prove the last, produced general rheumatic pains, and the rapid prostration of strength. As the closing scene approached, her ble, to hasten her arrival. She had just conversation 66 frequently con- before said- Well, I don't think now I tained expressions of an humble shall see Ann again :--I feel I am dying and growing trust in the fast.' power and grace of the Saviour;" and, on the Sabbath evening previous to her decease, she said to her

Mrs. Gilbert (who, with Mr. Gilbert, was then on her way to Ongar) she gave her opinion as to the best way of ensuring her sister's meeting the letter, so as, if possi

speak so as to be understood; but seemed sensible, till about five o'clock, when a change took place:-her breathing be

"From this time she did not again

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