scientiously refused every accommodation, both in diet and apparel, which was produced by their labour. He was upon a religious visit to his friends in this nation, and has left a wife and family in America.

.

Extract of a Letter, dated 2d of 1st mo. 1831. "I wrote you last week; since which the old year has taken its leave of us, and the new one been welcomed in its place. How many who began the year with us, as likely as we to see its close, have been called, from time to eternity!

"While, with ceaseless course, the sun
Hasted through the former year;
Many souls their race have run,

Never more to meet us here.

Fix'd in an eternal state,

They have done with all below;
We, a little longer wait,

But how little, none can know."

With what rapidity, the last year has winged its flight. Though it has been a year of general health, yet thirteen of our neighbours have died. “The places which once knew them, will know them no more, forever." But, how soon they are filled by others! and in a short time, ours will be so too! We shall go the way of all the earth; and, except among a very few dear Friends, it will quickly be as "though we ne'er had been." Is it not a humbling thought, that "we shall pass away, and be forgotten, and the world be neither wiser nor better, for our having been inhabitants thereof?"

WILLIAM SHARPLESS, Printer,
No. 2 Decatur street, Philadelphia.

FRIENDS' MISCELLANY.

The memory of the just is blessed.-Prov. x. 7.
Gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost.

John, vi. 12.

VOL. I.

OF THE

LIFE AND RELIGIOUS EXERCISES

OF

JAMES HAMTON,

Late of Bucks county, Pennsylvania.

TOGETHER WITH

DIARIES, SOLILOQUIES, ESSAYS, & LETTERS,

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

Introduction.

The following miscellaneous work was originally intended, by the author, for his own improvement. Being of a thoughtful turn of mind, and at times favoured with strong desires to experience a growth in true wisdom, he was induced, in his retirements, to

pen

down such occurrences as made a strong impressions on his mind, in order to receive instruction and improvement, from a frequent review of them. The Narratives of his youth, the Reflections, the Diaries and Soliloquies, were written with this intention. But, apprehending himself led in his arduous journey towards renovation, somewhat differently from many others, he has, in hopes of affording some way-marks to the poor desponding traveller who may come after, been made willing to submit them to the inspection and use of survivors. As the author's sole. view in wishing them ever to be made public, is the good of souls, he will avoid, as much as he conveniently can, introducing any private history, or account of himself, which doth not appear pretty intimately connected with that great end. But as this work may fall into the hands of some, who would wish to be informed something respecting his parentage; it may not be improper, briefly to say, he was born of reputable parents, Benjamin and Ann Hamton;* his father being a farmer in Wrightstown, Bucks county, and a useful and respectable member of religious society. His mother was a tender-spirited, virtuous woman, who endeavoured early to impress on the tender minds of her offspring, the true principles of religion. He was born the 29th of the 2d month, 1764.

• Some of the family write the name Hampton.

NARRATIVE I.

A Review of the first stage of Life, to the fourteenth year.

1768.-I well remember being very early impressed with ideas of good and evil, and of the existence of an Almighty, benevolent Being, who made the world, and all things in it; and who protected and rewarded good people. I also had some terrific notions of a cruel, wicked being, who kept bad men in a doleful place of perpetual torment. This was about my fourth year. I even then saw something of the beauty of goodness, and deformity of vice. As I grew older, the passions gathered strength; I was excessively fond of play, and thought hard of restraint; was peevish, and troublesome to my mother, when she prudently restricted me from the undue indulgence of these youthful follies; and was often disobedient. I was also, very early, sensible of an inward principle convicting me of the evil of my ways.

1770. I learned to read about the seventh year of my age. When at school, among idle, wicked boys, I increased much in vanity and folly, but was preserved from the grosser crimes of quarrelling, swearing, lying, &c. My excessive fondness for play, made me often importunate for leave to go out on first-days, in the afternoon, to associate with the boys of the neighbourhood. With this liberty, I was sometimes indulged, though highly unfavourable to innocence. I loved vain talk, jesting, and laughter, and was much applauded for the acuteness of my wit, by those who, from their age and situation, ought rather to have reproved my folly. Thus injudiciously excited to a

foolish emulation, the shoots of lightness and vanity took deep root in me, much to the injury of every plant of virtue. O how many bitter sighs and tears has it cost me, to get even measurably clear of these corrupt and degrading propensities.

1774.-About the tenth year of my age, a war breaking out between England and America, and Friends being generally opposed to the measures, and suffering much in many respects, the schools dropped, and thus I was kept much at home. Here, secluded from temptations to folly, I grew more sober and thoughtful; loved reading and writing, and spent much of my leisure in such exercises. The books I chiefly read, were, the Bible, Sewel's History, with the Journals, and other writings of Friends. Being fond of writing, I used to copy many instructive passages, which I met with in reading, and afterwards frequently perused those selections. Thus it pleased Divine Providence to visit me. I was not vile or very wicked, but very rude and vain; and for this I often felt strong convictions. If I obtained leave to go abroad on first-days of the week, to play with my companions, I returned in the evening with a heart covered with dejection; being made sensible, by a superior Power, that I was not spending my time as I ought.

As I read the lives and sufferings of pious men, my mind was often much affected, and made sensible of its imperfections. Once, as I well remember, I had been reading some religious book, when retiring alone, I shed tears of contrition, and entreated the Great Father of the Universe, to remember them, and to take me under his care and protection. At this time I had a clear sense of what was my duty, and