December, 1799, to February, 1808, the family was located at Portsmouth in New Hampshire, and after that period at Boston where she deceased.

The subject of this memoir, though blessed with a religious education, ever aiming to live in the discharge of all good conscience, an exemplary communicant in the episcopal church of her native place, was, during the most of her life, in bondage through fear of death.

About a year before her release from the body, she was violently seized with a disorder, which baffled the skill of the physician, and she made up her mind, that the time of her departure was at hand. At this distressing period, she experienced the goodness of that Being, whom it had long been her earnest endeavour to serve. All fears of death were totally banished. She was perfectly resigned and willing to leave the world. She spoke with the utmost calmness of the event, which all supposed to be near. She reposed with unshaken confidence in the grace of God and gave her farewell counsels and benediction to the objects of her affection around her.

A wonderful relief was suddenly, as it was unexpectedly, obtained from the threatening malady and she was soon raised to a comfortable measure of health. She spent much of her spared life in reading and meditation, enjoying the comforts of religion, till called to a happier state.

About a month before her death, she was attacked with a disease, which, during most of the resi

due of her days, much affected the powers of her mind; yet she had many lucid intervals, when she spoke of her dissolution without a fear, and looked forward with delightful anticipations of that rest, which grace has secured to the people of God. She found a satisfaction and joy, in the religion she had long professed, which the world could neither give nor take away.

On the wednesday evening before mrs. Wormsted died, she was free from bodily distress, had the full exercise of her reason, and was in a most happy frame of mind. In conversation with a near friend, who sat by her, she said, I love my children as well as any body can, but I can willingly leave them to go to my blessed Saviour. Oh, how I love my dear Redeemer! The friend said to her, you seem to feel as if you could adopt the language of the psalmist, which he began to repeat, whom have I in heaven but thee; she caught the words from his mouth and finished the passage, pronouncing it with an ardour, an emphasis of expression, which showed that she cordially felt its full import. Speaking of her mo ther, she said, that she was a very pious woman. The morning and evening sacrifice of prayer and praise constantly rose from her family altar. She brought her up in a very strict manner, and was an excellent pattern of holy living to all her children and domesticks. She particularly remarked, that her mother spent a great deal of time in reading the Bible, and then said, I wish that I had lived more as my mother did; but I trust in the all sufficien

oy of my dear Redeemer. At another time, she said. I cast myself at the feet of my Saviour. I look to him for the salvation of my soul. She renounced all her own works of righteousness and looked to the blood of atonement as the only source of hope. A little before the last scene, speaking of her composure, and perfect freedom from the fear of death at that time, when she knew that she could remain but a little longer, and at a former period, when she had no expectations of living another day, she said, can it be, that God will cast me off; that I musi, after all this be a castaway? No, I trust in the merits of my dear Redeemer.

In this heavenly temper of mind she continued, whenever indulged with her reason, till the moment she expired. On monday evening, the 25 of September, perceiving that the last conflict was at hand, she requested a friend to pray with her once more. She then called for her grand daughters and told them she must leave them, that she was going to the sternal world, so far as could be understood, and attempted to give them her parting counsels. Her voice faltered. The pangs of death were upon her, but its sting was destroyed. Her eyes were immediately turned towards heaven. Her noble countenance, always remarkably expressive, indicated a foretaste of the unutterable joy, on which she was about to enter. In a few moments, she was gone, without a struggle, without a groan, and the glow of rapture still beamed in her face!

In her last sickness, mrs. Wormsted mentioned

that the remains of her ancestors, who deceased in her native place, were carried into the episcopal church, where a sermon was delivered and the burial service performed; and that it was her desire, that her funeral solemnities might be performed in the same way. The rev. Asa Eaton, of Boston, attended her with pastoral fidelity, during her last sickShe requested him, to preach at the time of her interment, on such a text as he should think proper.

ness.

The remains of this best of mothers, this kindest of friends, this beloved disciple of Jesus, were accordingly carried into Christ Church. Mr. Eaton delivered a very appropriate and comforting discourse from these words, unto you, therefore, who believe, he is precious; and performed the burial service, in a solemn and impressive manner. The mortal remains were then removed to Marblehead and deposited in the family tomb.

The following acrostick on mrs. Wormsted was written by the late Jonathan Mitchell Sewall, esq. in 1802.

Muse, for thy Martha, prune thy choicest wing
And, in celestial strains, her praises sing.
Resplendent nature in this fav'rite join'd
The charms of person with each grace of mind.
Humour and wit with sense and reason blend,
And satire's shafts fly thick, if fools offend.
When she in spightly conversation leads,
Or in quick sallies of gay mirth proceeds;
PEN. I VOL. III.
M

Resistless graces silence all, who hear;
Mute ev'ry tongue, and list'ning every ear.
Skill in each duty of domestick life,

The tender mother now, as once the faithful wife,
Each virtue, that adorns a female breast,
Distinguish her in crowds, and make her worth
confest.

CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

527. Note.-The venerable puritanick fathers of New-England, having fled to this western world to enjoy the sweets of religion pure and undefiled, early made provision for the literary, scientifick, and pious education of their offspring. The first school, of importance, was established at New Towne, now Cambridge, in the vicinity of Boston, about the year, 1637. NATHANIEL EATON, a man of learning, was appointed the head of the institution. His severe and arbitrary mode of discipline so disgusted the young gentlemen, committed to his care, and his employers, that, in a about two years, he was set aside by order of the general court. He after. wards went to England and was extremely inimical to Massachusetts; but, as the late doctor Eliot remarks in his Biog. Dict. his power and influence were small compared with his malicious humour.

Strictly speaking, mr. Eaton, though unworthy, was the first president of the college in Cambridge. Hence, in reference to this fact, Holyoke is styled, in his epitaph, the eleventh president of the same institution. His character was so reprehensible,