and some were unwilling to move in a sphere so extensive, and which began to be branded as irregular, and to meet great opposition. Many, however, persevered in their services, and were content to bear the cross. In order to provide proper persons for the work of the ministry, her Ladyship now retired to South Wales, and erected a chapel and college in the parish of Talgarth, Brecknockshire The chapel was opened in 1768. The college was provided with able teachers, and soon filled with students. From that retirement, Lady Huntingdon despatched the requisite supplies for the increasing congregations under her patronage; and as the calls were often urgent, her students were too frequently thrust forth into the harvest, before they had made any considerable proficiency in the languages or in sacred literature, in which it had been her intention that they should be instructed. Few of them knew much more than their native tongue; yet, being men of strong sense and real devotedness to God, their ministry was greatly blessed, and the accounts of their success animated her to greater exertions. They were itinerant-moved from congregation to congregation in a rotation; and her correspondence with them, to regulate and provide a constant supply, was a labour to which her active spirit alone was equal. The seminary in Wales ceased at her ladyship's death, the lease being just expired, and no endowment being left, as her income died with her.

Her Ladyship still devising plans for the diffusion of the Gospel, especially in places where Satan had his seat, erected, in the year 1769, a chapel at Tunbridge Wells, so much frequented at that time by the great and gay of the metropolis, and still a place of fashionable resort. Nor was the metropolis itself, that emporium of error and dissipation, forgotten by her benevolent and ardent mind. A large building in Spa-Fields, called the Pantheon, had been erected for entertaining parties of pleasure, especially on the

Lord's-day. The Rev. Herbert Jones and William Taylor, two clergymen under the patronage of Lady Huntingdon, engaged the place for religious worship; and it was opened, July 6, 1777, with a sermon by the former clergyman on the appropriate text, Gen. xxviii. 19, "And he (Jacob) called the name of that place Bethel; but the name of that city was called Luz, at the first." The place will contain more than two thousand. This chapel, however, soon became an object of dislike to the strict members of the Establishment. Accordingly, a suit was instituted by the minister of the parish of Clerkenwell, in the consistorial court of the Bishop of London, against the two clergymen who officiated there. To that spiritual court they were summoned, and were forbidden to preach there any longer, on pain of expulsion from the Church. They chose to obey God rather than man; and Lady Huntingdon having purchased the chapel, several clergymen seceded from the Established Church, and put themselves under the protection of the Toleration Act. These clergymen drew up and subscribed a confession of faith; which was afterwards signed by all the ministers in her Ladyship's connexion, and by candidates for ordination. The first six were ordained in SpaFields Chapel, March 9, 1783, by the Rev. Messrs. Wills and Taylor. The doctrines taught in all the Countess's chapels are strictly evangelical, and the episcopalian mode of worship is adhered to, though some alterations are made in the Liturgy, and in the offices for baptism and burial.

Some years afterwards, Lady Huntingdon purchased another large place in Whitechapel, which had been intended for a theatre, and was constructed accordingly. No material alterations were deemed necessary; and it was, perhaps, proper to shew, by substantial and permanent signs, the triumph of wisdom and goodness over folly and vice. The dressing-rooms for the actors were converted into a

vestry, and the pulpit is erected on the front of the stage. The pit is filled with the poor, to whom the gospel is preached; while the galleries exhibit the more respectable hearers. The place will hold five thousand persons; it received the name of Sion Chapel. These were her Ladyship's principal chapels.

There are several others of less note.

Though Lady Huntingdon devoted the whole of her substance to the Gospel, yet, it is not a little surprising how her income sufficed for the immense expense in which she was necessarily involved. Her jointure was no more than twelve hundred pounds a year; nor was it till after the death of her son, a few years preceding her own, that she had the addition of another thousand. She often involved herself in expenses for building chapels, which she found it burdensome to discharge; but Divine Providence brought her always honourably through her engagements, and provided a supply when her own was exhausted.

Lady Huntingdon's person, endowments, and spirit, were all uncommon. She was rather above the middle size: her presence noble, and commanding respect; her address singularly engaging; her intelligence acute; her diligence indefatigable; and the constant labour of her correspondence inconceivable. During forty-five years of widowhood, she devoted her time, talents, and substance, to the support and diffusion of the Gospel. To the age of fourscore and upwards, she maintained all the vigour of youth; and though, in her latter years, the contraction of her throat reduced her almost wholly to a liquid diet, her spirits never seemed to fail her. To the very last days of her life, her active mind was planning still greater and more extensive schemes of usefulness, for the universal spread of the gospel of Christ.

Her most distinguishing excellence was, the fervent zeal which always burned in her bosom, to make

known the gospel of the grace of God. This no disappointments quenched, no labours slackened, no opposition discouraged, no progress of years abated; it flamed strongest in her latest moments. The world has seldom seen such a character. Thousands and tens of thousands will have reason, living and dying, to bless her memory, as having been the happy instrument of bringing them out of darkness into marvellous light; and multitudes saved by her instrumentality, have met her in the regions of glory, to rejoice together in the presence of God and of the Lamb.

But it may be asked, Was she a perfect character? This is not the lot of mortals on this side the grave. When the moon walketh in her brightness, her shadows are most visible. Lady Huntingdon was in her temper warm and sanguine: her predilections for some, and her prejudices against others, were sometimes too hastily adopted; and by these, she was led to form conclusions not always correspondent to truth and wisdom. The success attending her efforts, seemed to impress her mind with a persuasion, that a particular benediction would rest upon whomsoever she should send forth; which rendered her choice not always judicious, though seldom have there been fewer offences in so extended a work. She had so long directed the procedures of her ecclesiastical connexion, that she too seldom asked the advice of the judicious ministers who laboured with her; and bore not passively contradiction.

For many years, Lady Huntingdon had two female companions, who lived with her on terms of the most cordial friendship, Miss Scutt, and Lady Ann Erskine; the latter, sister to the Earl of Buchan, and to the two famous counsellors of that name. These ladies, particularly the latter, co-operated with the Countess in her work and labour of Christian love. Both were constantly present during her last illness. In the month of November 1790, Lady Hunting

don broke a blood-vessel, which was the commencement of her last illness. Being then asked how she did, by Lady Ann, she replied, "I am well; all is well! well for ever! I see, wherever I turn my eyes, whether I live or die, nothing but victory." As death drew nearer, though it was delayed for some months, she often repeated with great emphasis, "The coming of the Lord draweth nigh! O Lady Ann, the coming of the Lord draweth nigh!" adding, "The thought fills my soul with joy unspeakable, whether I shall see his glory more abundantly appear, or whether it be an intimation of my own departure to him." At another time: "All the little ruffles and difficulties which surround me, and all the pains I am exercised with in this poor body, through mercy, affect not the settled peace and joy of my soul."

To a friend who called on her a few weeks before her death, she said, "I see myself a poor worm drawing near to Jesus. What hope could I entertain if I did not know the efficacy of his blood, and turn as a prisoner of hope to this hold? How little could any thing of mine give a moment's rest to a departing soul! So much sin and self mixed with the best, and always so short of what we owe!-'Tis well for us that he can pity and pardon; and we have confidence that he will do so.-I confess, my dear friend, I have no hope, but that which inspired the dying malefactor at the side of my Lord; and I must be saved in the same way, as freely, as fully, or not at all." He replied, "Madam, I cordially join you, and feel with you, that though our lives may be devoted to the work of Jesus, and our deaths the consequence of his service, it is not to these sacrifices we should look "for comfort in a dying hour." She replied, "No, verily ;"—and enlarging, on the idea of the mixture of infirmity and corruption which tarnished all our best-meant services, she added; "That a sinner