doubtedly more suitable, and consequently, more profitable than that of others, yet she was never in the habit of censuring or depreciating any. She sat as a learner, not as a judge, and was observable, when the service was concluded, for retiring in silence. At such times she appeared desirous of conversing with none before she had indulged in holy meditation, and conversed in her closet with God. Her fidelity, as an adviser.-Though her disposition was unusually mild and unpretending, yet, when occasion required, she was willing to give her friendly counsel to any that were in doubt and perplexity: and when she had reason to fear that any of her friends were in danger of losing the power of religion, or saw that they were evidently neglecting their eternal concerns, her admonitions, which still, however, breathed the genuine spirit of Christian meekness, were uncommonly faithful, pointed, and earnest. From letters which are yet extant, it appears how well she had learned to conceal the "lancet" of reproof in the "sponge" of insinuating and affectionate address. Her decision of character. She naturally possessed a mind of superior order; and, during her retirement through affliction, she had cultivated it with care and success, especially with reference to the subjects of religion and Christian morality. Her principles were therefore enlightened and firm; nor would she on any occasion, notwithstanding her kind and flexible temper, allow herself to depart from what she deemed to be truth in sentiment, or duty in practice. Her decision was not the result of obstinacy, but of conviction; not the wayward ebullition of self-will, but the homage which she yielded to the requisitions of divine authority. Her patience in suffering.-Conformity to the will of God was what she constantly sought, and in no ordinary degree, attained. During the severe affliction which terminated in her death, she was not only never heard to complain, but she scarcely ever mentioned her sufferings. "I used to wonder," said she one day to one of her nieces, "at what is related in the Life of Gregory Lopez, that for three years successively, he was constantly praying, Thy will be done,' and seldom uttered any petition besides. I now, however, perceive and feel the propriety of it." my "I have lately," says she, in a letter to her sister, Mrs. Brewster, "had such views of the necessity and good effects of affliction and trials, as have tended to cheer and strengthen my mind, and make me think those 'happy that endure.' My first desire for suffering friends is, that they may not be more sensible of the painful, than of the beneficial part of the crucifying process. The former they cannot miss; the latter they may, but need not; since the hand that afflicts is ready to save. I have thought that the first step toward improving by trials of any kind, is, to examine whether we are willing to bear them just in the way they are sent. If we find we are not, let us not be discouraged or even surprised, (for what good is there in us?) but ask this willingness of him who loves whom he chastens, and can as easily instruct as afflict. Another step toward improvement may be, a determined acknowledgment of the hand of God in affliction. Here is a call for the exercise of our faith. Sense leads us to look at second causes, and at those circumstances which seem to us peculiarly to aggravate our sufferings. It is the work of faith to fix the attention of the mind upon the unseen hand and design. If faith be kept in exercise we shall receive the help we need, and feel the happy as well as the painful effects of our afflictions. If the discouraging thought that these afflictions are the fruits of our own unfaithfulness, folly, or supineness, arise in our minds, still let us not fear, but ask that they may produce in us the disposition we rejoice to see in a child whom we reprove or chasten. Would our heavenly Father afflict if he had no hope of our amendment, or no love toward us? Surely not. The language of affliction is the language of love. Every pain may be considered as a persuasive call to die to self and the world, and to enter more fully into the spiritual life which is hid with Christ in God.'" In the unrepining and cheerful submission of Miss S., these views were happily exemplified. Her particular attention to the motions and suggestions of the Holy Spirit.-Of the communications of divine influence under the Christian dispensation, she entertained exalted views. She loved to consider the Spirit as a comforter and monitor, sealing the disciples of Christ, and dwelling constantly in their hearts; and while she was careful not to "grieve" him, she was specially attentive to the "still small voice" of his intimations and directions. She found that the "minding of the Spirit is life and peace. وو "The divine light," says she in another letter," shines at intervals upon my mind, and I rejoice in its effects; but the brightness of its rays is sometimes obstructed by an intervening cloud of earthly objects, or, perhaps in my present situation, by omitting the exercise of that faith which brings light, power, feeling, and energy into the soul. I want what you recommend, a disposition to apply now for divine aid, influence, and unction. When I have these, I can do and suffer in the spirit of a child, cheerfully and patiently, referring only to the will and glory of my heavenly Father; but when, for want of pointed application, I seem almost destitute of these, my attempts to act and speak, with reference to spiritual things, appear to myself so forced and constrained, that it is labour rather than enjoyment; and I painfully feel the difference between acting from mere knowledge, and acting from love. Yet such are the kindness and condescension of my Divine Master, that I sometimes feel the influence communicated, when I am acting from the former and inferior motive;-thus are my infirmities helped and my mind encouraged. But were I always under such a degree of divine influence as I see to be my privilege, I should be more prompt in embracing opportunities to do good, my enjoyment or my abasement in them would be greater, and the effect more powerful; because there would be less of self, and more of the leaven of grace. O how wonderful are the operations of grace upon the mind! How they strip it of all hurtful self-dependance and selfimportance, and yet exalt it to partake of the divine nature!" Her heavenly-mindedness. In the midst of her various sufferings, she devoutly aspired after the "divine presence," to use her own language, "in a future state of blessedness, where our communications with each other will be free from any mixture of complaint or grief, purely good in their nature, and permanent in their duration." On this point the following extract from one of her letters may not be inappropriate. "I have thought lately that the state of public affairs, and the common trials of life, have caused my mind to advert more frequently to eternal things. I think, at least, that the expectation of rest and enjoyment from external objects abates in my mind, but not the conviction that there is a true and satisfying rest to be enjoyed by faith here, which at once gives the soul a foretaste of eternal rest, and a preparation for it. What heaven is, I believe is best understood by the enjoyment of divine love in the heart: but what our measure of happiness will be, when not only the soul is purified, but the body glorified, is, at present, among the things which we see through a glass darkly.' But though the revelation which is given of that happiness is partial, it is ample enough to excite desire and hope in the mind, with love to the author of such a revelation, and of such unspeakable beatitudes. We may attain these blessings; we may fall short of them. Let our privilege and our danger stimulate us to diligence and watchfulness, and to a proper attention to the direction given by our Lord, Occupy till I come."" For some years she had been incapable of her former exertions in the more active service of the Lord, and had gradually declined in health: but eight or nine months ago she began to sink rapidly. It was now that her Christian graces seemed to acquire their full maturity. When the writer of this memoir has visited some others in affliction, he has ventured to admonish and teach: when he visited her, he always went to listen and learn; nor could he, on retiring, avoid indulging the reflection, "I have attempted to preach conformity to the divine will, and attention to the influences of the Spirit; but never did I see them more strikingly exemplified." One who visited her repeated those lines from Young's "Last Day :" "In hopes of glory to be quite involv'd, To smile at death, to long to be dissolv'd, Religion! O thou cherub heavenly bright! O joys unmix'd! and fathomless delight! She desired a copy of them, and more than once remarked, "That is just my experience." The day on which she died. August 12th, 1823, she appeared in the very precincts of future glory; she lay in a state of heavenly composure, unable to speak, but looking unutterable things; and, in this state, meekly committed her departing spirit to the bosom of eternal mercy. May that God, "with whom do live the spirits of them that depart hence in the Lord, and with whom the souls of the faithful, after they are delivered from the burthen of the flesh, are in joy and felicity," grant that all who read or hear this record of the triumph of his love, may, "with all those that are departed in the true faith of his holy name, have their perfect consummation and bliss in his eternal and everlasting glory, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."-Wesleyan Methodist Magazine. MEMOIR OF THE REV. WILLIAM BEAUCHAMP. "Should fate command me to the farthest verge Flames o'er the Atlantic isles; 'tis nought to me; In the void waste as in the city full; And where HE vital breathes there must be joy." THOMPSON. GREAT talents are particularly admired where they are applied to useful purposes; society in all ages has presented a grand contrariety of character; but it seldom happens that men of genius are disposed to bring all the faculties of the mind to bear on useful purposes of life, to relieve the sufferings of the human family. The brilliant orator, the intelligent writer, the inventive genius, is too frequently applauded and flattered, or traduced and his designs defeated. But where genius is combined with virtue, with a soul ennobled by the best of principles, the love of God, and the love of man, then benevolent actions become conspicuous, and we can with safety number such persons among the real benefactors of mankind. The country which we here inhabit, settled by all descriptions of persons, gathered from almost all parts of the world; it is here that persons of distinction, of stability and influence, who can in any degree concentrate general affection, and by so doing give a cast to such society, as to bring "order out of confusion," and produce some degree of system among so disorganized a mass; when called off the stage of action, and whilst slumbering among "the clods of the valley," are long remembered by successive generations. Exertions for the accomplishment of such objects may fail, but in time they are always duly appreciated and remembered by the virtuous with gratitude. The settlements of the west, bending their course to the Pacific ocean, are like the progression of those who first peopled the earth; and although, before twenty years shall roll round, we may look for villages of American settlements, formed by those who have penetrated the defiles of the rocky mountains, and established themselves on the north west coast of the continent; yet the names of the "pioneers," like the names of the patriarchs of the east, will be held in remembrance; and it is believed none more so than one who is a teacher of righteousIn the populous state of human society, there are tens of thousands of events which transpire and pass away like the "baseless fabric of a vision :" but the annals of a new country, like those of a new world, are "engraven on a rock," and are preserved from generation to generation. Their successes and reverses of fortune, the events of their life, anecdotes, and all in relation thereto, are open to full view; and for native shrewdness and intelligence, no people under the sun exceed those hardy sons of the west, who, in the process of a very few years, will form a mass of population composed of the greatest people for mental and physical powers that have ever trod the earth. Such are their views of past, present, and future; seated as it were upon an eminence, they look back upon the east, and at one glance survey all the events in the history of their ancestors: When they look to the west, behold! a new world bordering on that in which man first had a being, invites them forward. William Beauchamp, the subject of this memoir, was born on the 26th day of April, 1772, in the county of Kent, and state of Delaware. His father, William Beauchamp, a respectable Methodist preacher, removed in the year 1788 or 89, to the western part of the state of Virginia, and settled on the Monongahela river, and after residing here six or eight years, again removed and settled on the little Kenhawa river, in Wood county, Virginia, where he and Mr. Rees Wolfe, another preacher, formed societies. At an early period of his life, Mr. B. (the subject of this memoir,) had religious impressions made upon his mind; at the age of five years he was deeply awakened, and in the seventh year of his age experienced a change of heart. Having been provoked by one of his brothers, he gave way to anger, and for some time thought he had lost his religion. When about fifteen or sixteen years old his spiritual strength was renewed, and he then became a regular member of the church. Some time after he began to exhort. In Delaware, for a short time, he was sent to a seminary of learning, and acquired a knowledge of English grammar, and some knowledge of the Latin. In 1790, he taught school in Monongahela. At the age of nineteen, he began to preach. In the year 1793, in the 21st of his age, he left his |