ney's family, and continued him there till " his death, a period of no less than thirty"fix years. In the midft of his facred labours "for the glory of God, and good of his ge"neration, he is feized with a most violent " and threatening fever, which leaves him "oppreffed with great weakness, and puts a " stop at least to his publick services for four "years. In this diftreffing season, doubly fo "to his active and pious fpirit, he is invited "to Sir Thomas Abney's family, nor ever "removes from it till he had finished his days. "Here he enjoyed the uninterrupted demon"ftrations of the trueft friendship. Here, "without any care of his own, he had every

thing which could contribute to the enjoy"ment of life, and favour the unwearied pursuits of his ftudies. Here he dwelt in

a family, which, for piety, order, harmony, " and every virtue, was an house of God, "Here he had the privilege of a country recefs, the fragrant bower, the spreading

lawn, the flowery garden, and other ad"vantages, to footh his mind and aid his "restoration to health; to yield him, whenever he chose them, moft grateful intervals "from his laborious ftudies, and enable him

" to

"to return to them with redoubled vigour "and delight. Had it not been for this most

happy event, he might, as to outward view, "have feebly, it may be painfully, dragged

on through many more years of languor, " and inability for publick service, and even " for profitable study, or perhaps might have "funk into his grave under the overwhelming "load of infirmities in the midst of his days; "and thus the church and world would have "been deprived of thofe many excellent fer"mons and works, which he drew up and published during his long refidence in this family. In a few years after his coming

1

hither, Sir Thomas Abney dies; but his "amiable confort furvives, who fhews the "Doctor the fame refpect and friendship as

before, and most happily for him and great "numbers befides; for, as her riches were

great, her generofity and munificence were " in full proportion; her thread of life was "drawn out to a great age, even beyond that "of the Doctor's; and thus this excellent man, through her kindness, and that of "her daughter the prefent Mrs. Elizabeth "Abney, who in a like degree esteemed and honoured him, enjoyed all the benefits and felicities

r

5

"felicities he experienced at his first entrance "into this family, till his days were num"bered and finished, and, like a fhock of

corn in its season, he ascended into the re

gions of perfect and immortal life and joy."

If this quotation has appeared long, let it be confidered that it comprises an account of fix-and-thirty years, and those the years of Dr. Watts.

From the time of his reception into this family, his life was no otherwise diverfified than by fucceffive publications. The feries of his works I am not able to deduce; their number, and their variety, fhew the intensenefs of his industry, and the extent of his capacity.

He was one of the first authors that taught the Diffenters to court attention by the graces of language. Whatever they had among them before, whether of learning or acuteness, was commonly obfcured and blunted by coarseness and inelegance of ftyle. He fhewed them, that zeal and purity might be expreffed and enforced by polished diction.

He

He continued to the end of his life the teacher of a congregation, and no reader of his works can doubt his fidelity or diligence. In the pulpit, though his low ftature, which very little exceeded five feet, graced him with no advantages of appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of his utterance made his difcourfes very efficacious. I once mentioned the reputation which Mr. Fofter had gained by his proper delivery to my friend Dr. Hawkefworth, who told me, that in the art of pronunciation he was far inferior to Dr. Watts.

Such was his flow of thoughts, and fuch his promptitude of language, that in the latter part of his life he did not precompose his curfory fermons; but having adjusted the heads, and sketched out fome particulars, trufted for fuccefs to his extemporary powers.

He did not endeavour to affift his eloquence by any gefticulations; for, as no corporeal actions have any correfpondence with theological truth, he did not fee how they could enforce it.

At

At the conclufion of weighty fentences he gave time, by a fhort pause, for the proper impreffion.

To stated and publick inftruction he added familiar vifits and perfonal application, and was careful to improve the opportunities which conversation offered of diffufing and increasing the influence of religion.

By his natural temper he was quick of refentment; but, by his established and habi tual practice, he was gentle, modeft, and inoffenfive. His tenderness appeared in his attention to children, and to the poor. To the poor, while he lived in the family of his friend, he allowed the third part of his annual revenue; and for children, he condefcended to lay afide the scholar, the philofopher, and the wit, to write little poems of devotion, and fyftems of instruction, adapted to their wants and capacities, from the dawn of reafon through its gradations of advance in the morning of life. Every man, acquainted with the common principles of human action, will look with veneration on the writer who