cused, even by those who as conscientiously differ from him in opinion, or who suffer from his zeal on that occasion.

Mr. Sharp, like many other great men, had one weak point, which within a few years has influenced many of his reasonings and practices. He was always tena cious of his critical knowledge of the original scriptures, and he had through life been struck with the supposed prophesies contained in the Revelations ascribed to St. John. He believed therefore, from what he deemed unerring sigus, that the millennium was at hand, that wars would cease through miracu. lous interposition, and that the reign of Christ would be established for a thou sand years. Ile had so fully assured himself on this head, that he referred to living personages most of the monsters and enigmatical persons alluded to in the apocryphal book ascribed to St. John, and had fixed for the commencement of the terrestrial reign of Christ on the spring of the year 1811! Though such reveries in an ordinary person would have provoked mirth; yet this good man expressed his opinions with such earnestness, and with such an anxious desire to convince his auditors, and the reign of AntiChrist has been so visible of late years, that his friends were led, at least to hope, that Mr. Sharp might on this subject speak the language of inspired prophecy, It was some supposed connection which he saw between the pope and some monster described in the Revelations, that led him to enter with so much ardour into his late opposition to the relief proposed to be given to the catholics; yet how many good men like him have been the dupes of prophecies !-Newton himself was a dreamer on this subject-every age has been the dupe of them-they have always been the tools by means of which crafty men have wrought on the vulgar and their influence even in this thinking nation is proved by the annual sale of 450,000 of the almanac containing the prophecies of the astrological seer of Royston! Mr. Sharp possessed a very extensive library, wherein a theologian, lawyer, classical scholar, politician, antiquary, or orientalist, might have found ample amusement, suited to their different tastes. His collection of Bibles is esteemed the best in the kingdom.

Though seventy-nine years old, like Cato, he pursued his studies with all the ardour of youth. He became a tolerable proficient in Arabic. But it must be re

den-that he lived a temperate and regular life-and that in him reason always maintained her supremacy over his passions. His declining age, therefore, like the evening of a fine summer's day, was calm and clear. His form was a medium between the thin and the athletic, his stature of the middle size, his countenance clear, his profile aquiline, his disposition cheerful, his gait upright, his nerves steady, and his motions, even when considerably advanced in years, pos. sessed all the sprightliness of youth. His name and actions will adorn the British Plutarch, for the imitation of the old: and his virtues ought to be emblazoned in the British Nepos, as a model for the instruction of the young,

He will always rank with our Hampdens, Marvels, Howards, and Hanways, as ong of the most worthy of his countrymen.

SOME ACCOUNT of the late Rev. HUGH WORTHINGTON, many years in eminent Preacher at Sullers Hall, London.

THE late Rev. Hugh Worthington was born the 21st of June, 1752, O.S. He was the youngest spn of the Rev. Hugh Worthington, A.M. upwards of 50 years pastor of the presbyterian congregation at Leicester, and was descended from highly respectable and eminently pious ancestors. The solid learning and firm principles of this valuable character, were of essential service to his son, who had also the advantage of strong family abilities on his mother's side; she was the eldest daughter of the Rev. Benjamin Andrews Atkinson, aud sister to the late Mrs. Marston, of Fleet-street.

Mr. Worthington's abilities led his father to cultivate them with unremitting care, and the progress he made in classical literature, at a very early age, was equally creditable to the preceptor and the scholar. His talents being united to considerable steadiness and piety, induced his father to devote him, at an early age, to the Christian ministry, and for this pru dent determination (under divine proví dence) numbers will have everlasting cause to be thankful. Indeed few men have been more conspicuous for prudence and propriety of conduct than the father of the deceased. Under these auspicious circumstances was the subject of this memoir transferred from his father's care to that of the Rev. Dr. Ashworth, then tutor of the academy at Daventry. Being then about the age of sixteen years, and

having laid an important foundation in the literæ humaniores, he was qualified to pursue the Hebrew language, and the higher departments of science, with great prospect of success. The lectures in this academy were given with diligence and skill, according to the system of Dr. Doddridge, who presided over it before it was removed from Northampton; and if any one misemployed his time, it was not the fault of his tutors. This being the case, a student proceeding with the abilities and regularity of Mr. Worthington, could not fail to outstrip many of his contemporaries. In proof of this, have ing finished the usual course of studies, he was appointed an assistant tutor; and, as in after life, was so instructive, and, at the same time, so pleasing a companion, as to be generally beloved, though bis firmness was of a nature to command respect. Here he might have continued with great advantage, had not a wise providence destined him to a more important sphere of usefulness.

Coming to London in the midsummer vacation of 1773, soon after he received the honourable appointment abore no ticed, he preached there, and in its vicinity, with much popularity, and particu larly at Salters' Hall. By the congrega. tion of this place he was invited to be their afternoon preacher, and assistant to the Rev. Mr. Spilsbury, their pastor, whose age and infirmities required such help.

The preceding ministers of the congregation were men of considerable abilities, and Mr. Worthington's immediate predecessor was the very learned Mr. Hugh Farmer, author of an Essay on the DemoDiacs of the New Testament, and several other works. Mr. Worthington was settled at Salters' Hall at Christmas 1773, and on the death of Mr. Spilsbury, in March, 1782, was in the following month unanimously chosen to succeed him as pastor.

During the interval between his coming to London and being chosen pastor of Salters' Hall, his health suffered greatly from close application to the duties of his profession, and to the studies connected with it, and at the same time, as his friends were very apprehensive of his falling a victim to consumption, he was compelled to devote less time to study.

In the summer of 1782 he was married at Greenwich, by the Rev. Dr. Burnaby, archdeacon of Leicester, to a near relation of Mrs. Burnaby's, Susannah, eldest daughter of the late Rev. Sumuel

Statham, formerly of Loughborough, but at that time of Nottingham, who had long been connected with Mr. Worthington's father in the closest bonds of friendship. This union, which commenced with the approbation of every friend of both families, proved to the parties a source of happiness for many years; Mrs. Worthington being in every respect calculated to be a pleasant and sensible companion. It was not their good fortune to rear a family, both their children dying very young.

From the time of his marriage to long after Mrs. Worthington's decease, which happened in March 1806, he resided in Highbury Place, Islington. The continued hospitality of that house, and the extensive benevolence of its inhabitants, now occasion painful feelings of regret, and the loss of which will be severely felt. Mr. Worthington's benefactions were both many in number and great in value; as a specimen of the rest, one of 501. a year is now acknowledged, which began some years ago, and was only terminated by his death, when the want of it ceased. His extensive charities did not permi him to increase his paternal fortune, though he is believed to have left it unimpaired.

Mr. Worthington undertook the morning duty of the congregation in Hanoverstreet, Long-acre, in the spring of 1796, until the vacancy could be supplied; and as the society were desirous to retain him as long as they could, he continued from time to time till 1806; Dr. Winter and Dr. Philipps being successively pastors during that period: after this he frequently gave his services.

Those who well knew Mr. Worthington, could not accuse him of indolence, espe cially when they consider his constant engagements; these were much increased by his readiness to oblige many wanting literary and other assistance: to this may be added, the private pupils who had occupied much of his attention, though he merely received them to oblige his friends, and to gratify his love of communicating instruction.

Ile published but little, chiefly occa sional sermons, which were favourably received. But the writer is aware that some years since he had composed more than eleven hundred sermons, indepen dent of many he had destroyed.

In his public services, his merits are well known: in some respects he is allowed to have been unrivalled; he was above mediocrity in ali. In prayer he had a quick conception, great fluency of expression,

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expression, and much fervour. His style of reading was highly impressive. In preaching, the peculiarity of his manner, and the excellence of his matter, were very interesting, fixing the attention, without appealing exclusively to the pas sions. His abilities raised him above dependence upon his notes, which if he generally used in the former part of his sermon, he seldom or never did in the application, or practical improvement.

His liberality and candour were very eminent, as were his loyalty and piety. He never had robust health, and for the last three years had been gradually declining. In this time he had twice lost some blood from his lungs; yet, as he had long been spared, and was able to preach till a fortnight before his death, hopes of prolonged usefulness were entertained, though from the excessively intermittent state of his pulse, recovery was judged impossible. It had been for a considerable time his intention to resign his charge at Salters'-Hall at the conclusion of the fortieth year of his settled ministry, if his life had been spared, and that period would have been accomplished at Christmas next. He preached the last Sunday of his being in London, with but little abatement of spirit, though amidst increasing weakness; and a few days after went down to Worthing for change of air: there his conversation dwelt much upon devotional subjects. After attend. ing public worship on Sunday the 25th of July, and spending the day with more than usual serenity and comfort, he retired to rest about his usual hour. In the

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course of the night, he alarmed the friends who had accompanied him to Worthing, by informing them that his bleeding was coming on again; when they immediately went to his room, and found him sitting up in bed, expectorating blood. was perfectly composed, and after addressing a few words to them he expired, committing himself into the hands of his Creator. Thus was he mercifully released from a world of sin and suffering, without one day's confinement to his bed, ending his usefulness but with his life, according to his earnest wish.

His remains were brought up from Worthing to his house in Northamptonsquare, on the 31st of July, and were re moved to Salters'-Hall the evening before the funeral, which took place on the 6th of August, attended by some of the relations, several dissenting ministers, and many of his most respectable congregation, in 18 mourning coaches, and about 12 private carriages, to the burial-ground in Bunhill-fields, where the body was deposited with the ashes of Mrs. Worthington, and inany of his maternal ancestors and relations. The funeral was conducted entirely at the expense of the congregation, as a proof of their unabated and affectionate regard to their pastor, whose popularity through the long period of forty years suffered no decay. The solemn service was performed by the Rev. Mr. Taylor; and on the following Sunday, the Rev. Dr. Lindsay preached a very able funeral sermon, at Salters'Hall, to a crowded audience, for the most part in deep mourning.

MERRY ANDREW.

NDREW BORDE was an itinerant physician in England, about the year 1547; he attended markets and fairs, harangued the populace from the hustings of his booth, and made so strong an impression by his comic powers, that he was called the merry Andrew. Since his time quack-doctors have usually travelled with the accompaniment of a punch and a dancing girl, whose feats of drollery and activity served to convene the populace preparatorily for the doctor's ha. rangue in behalf of his nostrums, or to amuse the impatience of those who were awaiting the opportunity of private consultation. These travelling ciarlatori have mostly been Italian Jews; they are MONTHLY MAG, No. 245.

Oui, par toi de Satan la puissance est brisée;

Mais tu n'as cependant pas encore asséz fait:

Pour nous oter du diable entierement Fidée,

Bekker, supprime ton portrait.

ANAGRAMS.

Anagrams are said to be ominous. The anagram of Napoleon Bonaparte is Leno, pone bona rapta: but the anagram of negotiations is 0, I get nations.

SINGULAR DEDICATION.

King James the first published, in 1611, a pamphlet, which he dedicated to Jesus Christ. The puritans arraigned this as an indecency; but we frequently dedicate temples, and why not books, to the memory of the illustrious and sainted dead. No act of worship implies a greater spiritual devotion.

PANEGYRIC OF AN ACTOR.

Tindal, alluding to a line in Pope's Messiah, said of Garrick: The deaf hear him in his action; the blind see him in his voice.

ANECDOTE OF MIRABEAU.

When Mirabeau was giving to the

minces of Berlin, he subjoined: If we had now the Jesuits, we would let them loose against the Illuminees. Rival excesses, he thought, were formed to worry one

another.

LINES,

WRITTEN DURING AN ILLUMINATION

YE

FOR A VICTORY.

"ES, let the thoughtless crowd re-
joice,

And celebrate the victor's name;
The saviour of a falling land
Such honours justly may demand:

But ne'er be mine the hero's fame;
For ever is the wreath he wears
Bedew'd with Pity's tenderest tears,
She mourns the gallant and the good,
Fall'n in the wasteful field of blood;
She hears the friend's, the parent's sigh,
The wretched orphan's moan,
She marks the widow's redden'd eye,
By death bereav'd of every tie,

Left in the world alone; The batter'd town, the ravag'd plain, The cot, the palace, rear'd in vain ; And sees the warrior's sanguine step in vade

The fairest of those scenes a God of peace has made.

No, if the stream of life must flow
From many noble hearts laid law,

Before the laurel decks the brow,
It never shall my temples twine!
If misery thus must mark his way
To whom the public triumphs pay,

I would not wish such glories mine. The voice of Praise 'tis sweet to hear, But not when bought with Pity's tear; Nor wreaths, nor honours, should I prize, Purchased, Religion, with thy sighs.

Blest power! who hast to mortals given
Their noblest hope--the hope of heaven→→→
Thou teachest micn in peace to live,
To love, to cherish, to forgive.
But careless of thy kind beliest,
Man, man, destroys his brother's rest;
In vain thy righteous laws impend,
We deem those great who most offend,
And all our chiefest praise bestow
On him who fills the world with woe;
Yet still be mine thy faith sublime,
That trusts and triumphs over time.
And let me seek that crown alone,
Thy patient votary calls his own,
Ambitious of no other fame
But that which gilds the Christian's name.
S. DACRE