forcement of the moral duties of the Gospel, than to the consideration of the subtle points of theology. His compositions for the pulpit were, as I think, formed chiefly on the model of Massillon and Flechier, in whose writings he was conversant. He conscientiously adhered to the Church of England from principle, and had an aversion to all dispute and controversy. He maintained and recommended, publickly and privately, every doctrine which upholds legitimate government, and prevents confusion political and theological. He loved his country, he loved her laws, her ordinances, her institutions, her religion, and her government, for he knew that they have made, and still make, England to be WHAT IT IS. He abhorred every troubler of the state, the specious reformer, the obstreperous tyrannical demagogue, and the disorganizing sophist. He dreaded also the influence and the principles of the Romish church, and, however they may be softened or explained away by modern statesmen, he depre cated their encouragement, or their revival, among us; but he loved that toleration and freedom which the church and constitution of England, steering between opposite extremes, grant with evangelical discretion to every sect of Christianity, however distinguished. Indeed it may be said to his honour as a clergyman, a scholar, and a man of uncommon attainments, that he was moderate, enlightened, indulgent, and liberal. "Nullius obscuravit gloriam, nullius obstitit commodis, nullius obstrepuit studiis; dignitates non ambivit; quæstum non venatus est." When he was a child, his constitution was delicate; but as years advanced, by care, by exercise, and afterwards by foreign travel and change of scene and of climate, by a scrupulous attention to his person, and to a neatness never exceeded, and by an even placid temper, his frame acquired a strength, an alacrity, and a springy activity which, I think, accompanied him to the last, and gave a zest to his pursuits and vigour to his faculties. But on all the labours, the troubles, and the enjoyments of our nature the night, in which no man can work, advances fast; and, however un willing, we must all hear "The due beat Of time's slow-sweeping pendulum, that marks The hour was now approaching rapidly when his sun was also to set: for an unperceived decay was, undermining his constitution, and many a flaw hinted mortality. Yet it must be confessed that, with all his cheerfulness of temper, with every internal assurance of a well-spent life, and with every assistance from philosophy and from religion, Mr. Nicholls, like many other good and blameless men, could never sustain in thought the shock of final separation from the world, without a visible reluctant emotion when he spoke of death. But ere we make any remark, surely we may ask, who is sufficient for these thoughts? Can we answer, one of a thousand? However, if there were any weaknesses about him (and who is exempt?) I think one of them was that of flattering himself with an extended prospect of long continued health and strength beyond what is permitted to man: Quæ facili sperabat mente futura Arripuit voto levis, et præsentia finxit. His appearance, indeed, never bespoke his age: and in the best sense of the word, I think, he was always young. of In the spring and summer of the year 1809, Mr. Nicholls was attacked by a species of cough, the nature or the cause of which he could not ascertain. His countenance, during that period, sometimes bore marks of great indisposition and of a tendency to, what is called, a breaking up the constitution. But still he continued his accustomed occupations; he enjoyed, as usual, the company of his friends, and he promoted their happiness. But his infirmity evidently increased, yet without any alarm or apprehension of its fatal tendency. I think indeed that he had by no means a distinct view or expectation of his dissolution, either in the beginning or in the progress of his malady. A very few days before that termination, which was so soon to take place, he returned home, much indisposed, to Blundeston, where he re ceived every assistance from his faithful and afflicted domesticks, and experienced every affectionate attention and relief from a physician* for whom, I know, he uniformly and constantly expressed his esteem, and in whose care and skill he placed a confidence unlimited and unvaried. But his complaint, which was bilious, increased beyond the reach of art; a dissolution of strength, without a pang which tortured or a pain which exhausted him, succeeded; and from the sudden bursting of a blood-vessel, he breathed out * Dr. Girdlestone of Yarmouth in Norfolk. L |