the commencement of his last illness; he went to meet his young friends, even when he was scarcely able to address them; and they frequently called upon him in his sick chamber, to receive his pious instruction. The words which he spoke, and the prayers which he offered up in behalf of the scholars and teachers of his school, a short time before death, will not soon be forgotten. I beg leave, in connexion with this, to mention a little incident related by a friend who was present, which happened upon a Wednesday evening, when he was accustomed to meet his more advanced pupils for religious instruction. One of them had been idling, and disturbing some of the rest, when he was calling upon them in the most affectionate manner, to persevere in the ways of truth and godliness. He quickly perceived it, and naming the scholar, said, "I cannot see you, but remember God sees you, and will not forget what you do;" and, when concluding the exercise with prayer, he prayed for her in the most fervent and affectionate manner. Indeed, whenever he spoke on religious subjects, it was with a pathos peculiar to himself.

He was a zealous friend to the Religious Tract Society. He aided its funds as far as his ability reached, and at the same time, used his utmost endeavours with those who were rich, for the same purpose. He took every opportunity of distributing tracts, both in town and country, and has been known to convey them into families, where he thought they might be useful, and, when he dared not put them into their hands, to leave them under their doors. It was usual

for him, when on a journey from home, to have a parcel of tracts always in his pocket, that he might bestow them in the places he visited, or give them away to persons whom he might meet with on the road; such was his zeal for the propagation of the Gospel, and so indefatigable was he in his efforts for the good of his fellow creatures. When engaged in his daily work, he was seldom to be found without tracts, and was accustomed to distribute them among the servants where he was working. Upon an occasion of this kind, he had been employed for several days in a gentleman's house, where he had frequent opportunities of conversing with the servants. One of them appeared particularly trifling, and quite unwilling to enter upon any serious conversation. He one day put into her hands some suitable tracts, and requested her to read them, which she promised to do. It was not long before he saw a considerable change in her behaviour, and she listened with more attention when he spoke to her upon religious subjects; she also enquired what church he attended, and expressed her astonishment, that one who was blind could know so much about the Bible.

The deceased will live long in the remembrance of those who were benefited by his salutary counsels. Many who were in perplexity concerning the path of duty betook themselves to his advice, and he frequently was the means of restoring peace to the troubled mind. He entered into all the feelings of others, in the most sympathising manner; he wept with those who wept, and rejoiced with those who rejoiced, and frequently pointed out the path of duty, and removed

difficulties which appeared, to the dejected mind, wholly insurmountable. He was particularly affectionate in waiting on the sick, and frequently sat at their bed-sides, speaking to them the words of consolation, and praying with them. He was very faithful in the case of any of his brethren, who had forgotten their duty to God and his people. It is much to be lamented, that this duty is too much neglected by brethren in the church-fellowship; they see others fall, and are not careful to help them, and point out the evil of their conduct. The deceased, however, was an eminent pattern of faithfulness to his brethren; he set the evil of their conduct in so prudent, and at the same time, in such a forcible manner, before them, that he had often the comfort of reclaiming them from the error of their ways, while at the same time, he cleared himself of the blood of those who would obstinately go on in a course of sin. We would not, however, be considered as holding up the subject of this memoir as faultless; far from it. None was readier than he to confess sin; but it may with truth be affirmed that his faults, so far as they were known to man, were few, and his virtues many.

I now hasten forward to speak of the wondrous love of God manifested towards him, at the period when he was near the termination of his earthly career. He had been nearly six months afflicted with a disease, which was supposed to be an affection of the stomach, and was quickly wasting away; during a great part of that time he was confined to his room. I should mention, that in the prayers I have already referred to, he was particularly mindful of his own

school, and he afterwards expressed a particular desire that the Christian friend whom he had procured to teach in his place, would continue in the school; he also desired his sister to collect what tracts he had, and give them to Mr. A—, to go on with in the school, and to hope for the divine blessing, as the Lord would certainly countenance his own ordinances, though, perhaps, not immediately. It may surprise some, that he was able to speak so much when he was so weak, and near his dissolution. All his friends who visited him that day, were astonished at it: they had formerly seen him when he could scarcely reply to them, but now, when, in reality, he was on the verge of eternity, he spoke as he was accustomed to do when in health. Surely we must see in this the hand of God, and that he himself spoke truly, when he said, "the Lord hath opened my mouth, that I might speak to his praise." He was enabled to converse until within a short period of the great change, which took place about seven o'clock, on the morning of the 16th of December, 1809, when he breathed his last, aged thirty-two years.

AUTHORITY.

The Life of Kay. Glasgow, 1816.

MR. FRANCIS LINLEY,

THOUGH blind from his birth, became a most excellent performer on the organ. Nor were his abilities confined merely to the science of music, as he was a charming companion and acute reasoner, and well acquainted with the works of the most eminent authors, ancient and modern. Having completed his musical studies under Dr. Miller, of Doncaster, he went to London, and was the successful candidate, among seventeen competitors, for the place of organist of Pentonville Chapel, Clerkenwell. He was soon after married to a blind lady of large fortune; but, having subsequently sustained great losses by the treachery of a friend, he made a voyage to America, where his performances and compositions soon brought him into notice. He died, shortly after his return to England, at his mother's house at Doncaster, on September 13th, 1800, at the age of twenty-nine. Being a freemason, by his own request he was attended to the grave by the master and brethren of St. George's lodge, in that town.

MR. JOHN AXE,

WAS organist of Whiston, near Rotherham. Although blind from his birth, his abilities were of a very surprising kind, having a correct and superior knowledge of mechanics, music, &c. of which his works will remain a lasting memorial; such as the chimes in the borough church of Hedon, in Holder