tial to all the true followers of Jesus Christ. Now, there ought to be no wavering-no halting between two opinions, where an immortal soul is at stake. There should be not only an abstinence from all evil, both in APPEARANCE and REALITY, but a fixed determination to promote the glory of God in the holiness of our own lives and in the eternal happiness of others. Every thing we do, or say, or think, is either GOOD or BAD in the sight of God: the Scriptures speak of nothing as being indifferent; but, on the contrary, an APOSTLE hath told us, that "WHATSOEVER is not of faith is SIN," and our SAVIOUR himself has said, "He that GATHERETH NOT with me SCATTERETH ABROAD.'

I charge it, therefore, upon the consciences of my young readers, that they suffer not the things of this world to possess that place in their hearts, which ought to be conceded only to the things of another. They must be determined, through "evil report and good report," to "know the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom he hath sent."

O may God enable both them and me to discharge our duties faithfully, "not with eye-service, as men-pleasers, but as the servants of God; doing the will of God from the heart!" O that he would teach us to "trust in him with all our hearts," and in "all our ways to acknowledge him;" and that he would make us "so to pass through things temporal, that we finally lose not the things eternal."

C

OLD CATHARINE PRESCOTT.

THE wisest of men, speaking according to the unerring dictates of the Spirit of God, has declared that "the hoary head is a crown of glory, if it be found in the way of righteousness." This is one among many other passages of the inspired writings which may serve to rejoice the heart of an aged Christian, and to excite the ardent desires of his younger brethren in pursuit both of that and of a brighter crown, even a crown of glory which fadeth not away, reserved in heaven" for the whole family of God.

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If the time of youth and manhood has been spent in idle, hurtful, and sinful pursuits, to the neglect of God and the eternal interests of the soul, we have the testimony of facts to convince us how seldom it happens, that persons thus abusing their day of mercy become savingly converted to God in their old age. All those engines through which the Holy Spirit usually operates upon the heart, I mean the faculties of thought, memory, judgment, and affection, seem comparatively cold and dead, and it appears to require almost miraculous power to fetch the aged wanderer home to God. The

era of miracles, however, is passed away; but nothing is "too hard for the Lord;" and, though few in number, there are not wanting instances wherein, as far as human judgment can decide, the hoary sinner has exchanged his character for that of the saint, and has been enabled to "bring forth fruit even in old age."

It is my present intention to bring forward one such instance in the person of CATHARINE PRESCOTT; an instance, the relation of which will not, I hope, be entirely lost upon my aged readers, nor especially upon those of my aged friends, who, from inability to read for them-' selves, have been hitherto obliged to trouble other persons to read for them.

She was born at Denbigh, in Wales, in the year 1708, or perhaps earlier. Her maiden name was PRICE. I have endeavoured to obtain the exact day of her birth from the parish register, which, through the kindness of the Rev. Richard Howard, the Rector, has been diligently searched for that purpose, but without success. She was put to service, in the place of her nativity, at a very early age, and grew up without being possessed of any knowledge of the art of reading; as (to use her own expression) there were none of those blessed Sunday schools in her days.' When about twenty years old, she went to live with a family in Liverpool, in which situation she continued about twelve years. She afterwards went to

live in the family of the Rev. Mr. Farington, at Croston; and, upon her marriage, she went to reside with her husband, RALPH PRESCOTT, at Atherton, near Leigh, Lancashire.

After she had been married eight years, her husband died, when she again went, for a short period, into the service of Mr. Edge, of Moss Side, near Leigh, in the year 1752; but finding that her only surviving child, a daughter, was not very well attended to by those under whose care she had placed her, she left her situation and took a small cottage in Leigh, and kept a bakehouse. She continued there until 1795 or 1796, and then came to reside, along with her daughter, at Manchester, where she continued until the time of her death. She was always esteemed an honest, frugal, industrious woman, and in her latter days was supported partly by her relations, and partly by some friends who had witnessed or heard of her honest and upright conduct in her several situations.

During the period of her residence in Manchester, she regularly attended the daily prayers at the Collegiate Church, where she was kindly noticed by some of the clergy; but, as she afterwards expressed herself, she could not so heartily enter into the public worship of God as she wished, because she could neither read her Prayer-book, nor distinctly hear all that was said.' She continued to attend at the church until she had passed her hundredth

year, without ever having been able to read a word in any book whatever, having a form of religion, but being destitute of its power. She had long wished to learn to read: but either through shame, or for want of invitation and opportunity, she had not taken any steps towards attaining her object. At last, however, she prevailed upon herself to look out for a teacher; and as her own account of the manner in which she began will be more interesting than mine, I will relate it in the words she herself used when I asked her to give me the particulars.

Why, you see, when I used to go to the Old Church, many of the folks that used to come 'would sometimes offer me a book, and, dear heart, I could not read; and I was ashamed to refuse it: and, besides, there was a very 6 pretty psalm they had used to sing, and I thought I could like to learn it—but then I • could not read. So I came home one day; ⚫ and I told my daughter that I was determined to learn to read; but she thought it was too late. However, I went to a neighbour, and asked him if he would learn me a lesson, and he promised he would. Accordingly I ' went to him every day, and when I had tired ⚫ him with one lesson I would have gone to ' another neighbour for another; and in this way I got on by little and little. When they were building the Lancasterian school in this