clerical character;-dignified yet simple, pious but not austere. This secured him the affectionate attachment of his friends and the respect of all. In him religion assumed its most attractive and venerable form, and his character conciliated for the body, over which he presided, respect and consideration from the liberal. the enlightened and the virtuous of all ranks and denominations; for they saw that his life accorded with the benign doctrines of that religion which he professed. ly as possible, into that chamber in search of it: He did not find it immediately, and the archbishop overheard his footsteps in the room. Without a word having passed, he called to the clergyman, and told him that he knew what he was looking for; that he would find the book in such a position on a certain shelf; and there it was accordingly found. When we consider that the archbishop was, at this moment, fully sensible of his nearness to the tomb, and that the knowledge that his friends were searching for the volume which explained the established mode of burial for archbishops and other dignitaries of the church, was, above all things, calculated to bring fully and strongly to his thoughts the melancholy and gloomy ideas attendant upon so solemn a service, and those ideas applicable to his The members of his own church, to whom he was in truth a guide and a father-who daily witnessed the kindness, the beneficence and the tenderness of his heart-who, in the purity of his doctrines and precepts, saw the purity of his own unsullied character-who saw him on his death bed, with the meekness, the patience and the cheer-own person, it is impossible to refulness of a saint and a martyr, view the sure and rapid approaches of his own dissolution, concerned not for himself, but anxious only for the welfare of those whom he was so soon to leave-will long remember him with the most profound, heartfelt grief, gratitude and veneration. He taught us how to live-and Oh, too high The price of knowledge-taught us how to die. A single trait will suffice to show with how much truth these lines of the poet are applied —The life of the archbishop was almost at the last ebb, and his surrounding friends were consulting about the manner of his interment. It was understood that there was a book belonging to his library which prescribed the proper ceremonial, and it was ascertained to be in the very chamber, in which he then lay. A clergyman went, as soft strain our admiration, not only of the clearness and precision of his memory, at the age of eighty, but the sublime tranquillity of his spirit, which discoursed of mortality as if he had passed its limits, and regarded the concerns of this world as if he had become already an inhabitant of the other. Death, the terrors of which he had so often dispelled from the minds of others, had no power to disturb his serene and tranquil soul. But long will his bereaved and disconsolate flock mourn the the loss of him, who was the succour and support of the wretched who, when this world could afford them nothing on which to lean, turned to him for consolation as their spiritual father. The closing solemnities with which the body of the late Archbishop Carroll, was entombed on mind, some faint image of eternal duration. The deep tones of the organ and the solemn chant of the choiristers seemed to the excited feeling, not to belong to this world, but to be the welcome of good spirits, who had gone before, and now solemnly saluted him, who descended through the tomb to the bar of eternal justice, to receive the reward apportioned to a good and faithful servant. According to the particular disposition of every one, have we heard the venerable archbishop praised and lamented.-The extent of his knowledge and the enlargement of his mind, fastened upon the man of liberal science. The liberality of his character and his Christian charity endeared him to his protestant brethren, with whom he dwelt in brotherly love. He was a patriot and loved his native land; nor should Americans forget that his exertions and benedictions, as a man and as a Christian prelate, were given to the cause and independence of his country. His manners were mild, impressive and urbane. The vari ous stores of knowledge came from his lips with uncommon classical grace and richness, which he gain Tuesday, brought together a greater crowd than we have ever witnessed on a similar occasion. The great, and the rich, the poor, and the lowly, assembled to pay the last tribute of respect to the memory of this good and illustrious prelate. The chapel which has been so long cherished by his fostering care, was crowded at an early hour, and the multitude who assembled without, seemed rather to indicate that some great public ceremony was to be performed, or some national calamity to be deplored. The corpse of the venerable archbishop, which had laid in state, since the preceding Sunday was now enclosed in the coffin, surmounted by his mitre and pastoral crosier, and surrounded by those emblems which unite the fancy with the heart in solemn devotion. After the celebration of high mass, the procession moved through Saratoga and Franklinstreets, to the chapel of the French seminary, which was designated as the place of interment.-We have never witnessed a funeral procession, where so many of eminent respectability and standing among us followed the train of mourners. -Distinctions of rank, of wealth, of religious opinion were laid aside, in the great testimony of respected from a perfect acquaintance to the memory of the man.-Beside the numerous crowd who filled the streets, the windows were thronged with spectators.-The funeral service for the dead was performed at the chapel of the seminary; and the mind already penetrated with regret and deepest sorrow, felt the effect of those religious ceremonies which performed in the same manner, and chaunted in the same language, and tone of voice through succeeding ages, bring together the remotest periods of 1600 years, and present to the with ancient languages and literature. His charities were only bounded by his means, and they fell around him like the dews of Heaven gentle and unseen. To those who stood not in need of the comforts of life, he administered the consolation of his counsel; and the weight of his character and his reputation for erudition and profound good sense, gave an autho rity to his advice, which the proudest scarcely dared to disregard. The veil of mourning which hid the tears of the afflicted, covered many a heart not of his own particular flock, which felt that it lost an inestimable friend. | he gradually sat like the sun in mellowed splendour.-Death, as if fearfully, attacked him with slow and cautious approaches. The pa ralysis, and consequent mortification of the lower extremities were complete, before his icy touch ventured to chill the heart; and even until the last moment, the noble faculties of the mind retained their pristine vigour. He inquired if a conveyance was prepared to take away his sister and weeping connexions; told them the scene was about to close, and requested them to take rest and nourishment. He gave them his benediction, turned his head aside, and expired. His The character of Archbishop Carroll seemed indeed to be filled up with wonderful care. Educated at St. Omers, he was early disciplined in the exercises of the mind, and deeply versed in classic lore. Becoming at Liege attached to the society of Jesus, he acquired that spirit of action-that profound knowledge of the human heart-that admirable fitness for the affairs of the world, which for 200 years distinguished that order, and spread its power to the remotest countries. When the glories of the Jesuits were extinguish-countenance retained in death the ed with the society itself, he tra- benignant expression of life. His velled over Europe as the friend piety grew warmer as life closed, and instructor of an English no- and the glow of religious hope bleman. Then he viewed the was elevated almost to enthusiasm. manners of different nations-saw "Sir," he said to an eminent prothe courts of kings, and the meet- testant divine, who observed that ings of philosophers, and added his hopes were now fixed on anothe liberality of a true philoso- ther world: "Sir, my hopes have pher and the accomplishment of always been fixed on the cross of a gentleman, to the apostolic dig- Christ." Yet, humility tempered nity of his calling.-Temptation his confidence, and while a numedrew forth the purity of his vir- rous circle who surrounded his bed tues, and like Shadrach he walked of death, were transported with veerect in the flames. He early neration at the moral sublimity of marked the rise of the baleful his last moments, and his joyous meteor of French philosophy, and expectations of a speedy release, mourned when he saw the pes- he called to his friend and associtilence shook from its horrid ate to read for him the " Miserere hair, invade his native land.-But mei Deus-Have mercy on me, O he gathered his spiritual children Lord"-Reversing the wish of under his wings, and protected Vespasian, he desired, were it them in security; and he was per- practicable, to be placed on the mitted to live to see a different floor, that he might expire in the spirit prevail; to witness a great posture of deepest humility, as a revival of religion, and in the Christian martyr, and an humble abundant prosperity of his parti- supplicant to an interceding Sacular church, to reap the harvest❘ viour. of the toil and labour of his life. When he was called to receive the reward of his many virtues, the excellence of his character shone out with fresher lustre, as How do the boasted glories of philosophy fade before the death of such a man-Socrates died with a cheerless and unknown futurity before him-Cato's indignant soul spurned the yoke of imperial | Cæsar, and Seneca opened his veins, and calmly discoursed of philosophy as life ebbed with the purple tide but it was not theirs to know the hope of the Christianthat hope which springs from a life of virtue and a pious soul, and which changes the tomb into the triumphal arch, through which the pilgrim passes into joyful eternity. Died, at his seat in Northumberland county, Virginia, Dec. 1816, WALTER JONES, Esq. aged 70 years. He was by profession a physician, and eminent in his profession; but is better known in his public character; having served for many years, with high credit to himself and his constituents, as a representative in the congress of the United States. He was a man of sterling value. As a politician greatly respected, he was still more valued and beloved as a man. His literary acquirements were of the first order; and there are few men of the present age whose writings and conversation possessed more of that Attic salt which distinguished the Popes and Addisons of the last century. His death is deeply regretted, no less by his immediate connexions, than by a large circle of friends and acquaintances. Died, at Lempster, N. Hampshire, on the 17th December, 1816, Mr. JOSHUA Воотн, aged about 55. His death was occasioned by the bite of a cat about six weeks previous. The cat attacked him when in bed, and wounded him in his face; he drove her from him, and she immediately left the house-and, on her route, attacked a number of persons, some of whom she wounded, and was at length killed in an adjacent town. Mr. Booth and his family, not considering the circumstance to be alarming, neglected making use of any means to prevent its dreadful effect, and on the 15th Dec. he was attacked with the characteristic symptoms of the hydrophobia. Medical aid was immedi ately resorted to, but to no purpose; the fatal disorder soon became visible to every spectator, by the dread of every liquid; the sight of which would produce the most excruciating spams. He took but very little or no nourishment, although he retained his senses until the last; cautioning his friends and neighbours to keep at a proper distance from him that he might not do them injury. Philadelphia, Nov. 1816. Died, at his Botanical Garden, called Upsal, two and a half miles from this city, Mr. BERNARD M'MAHON, well known throughout the continent and among the botanists of the old world. Mr. M Mahon came to this city, from Ireland, about twenty years since, and from his previous experience and industry, and great enthusiasm in the profession to which he was bred, he has rendered very emiment services to the United States, (more, indeed, than all who had preceded him,) by applying the principles of agricultural science to the varieties of the climates of this continent; pointing out the errors which had retarded improvement, he contributed to the comforts, and the most delightful of human recreations, planting the shrub, and nursing the buds into bloom, and tendril into vigour. His book of Gardening is a precious treasure, and ought to occupy a place in every house in this country; its principles are eternal, and its instruction fruitful of advan- | tage. His theory of planting, has removed the difficulties heretofore deemed insurmountable in the production of QUICKSET hedges, from the WHITE THORN; he urged, that he learned it from nature, who scattering stone fruit on the surface of the earth opens the stone by the frost, and the earth to receive the kernal by the thaw-following this observation, he laid his white thorn seed, or the dried haw on the smooth surface of the ground upon which he proposed to plant, preparing the soil only to suit the operations of nature. It was his desire, while living, to be useful; and it is in conformity with his usual mode of thinking, that we think fit to notice, at the same time that we notice his demise, his practice in an invaluable branch of knowledge, which many may see on this occasion, who have not before heard of it. Died, on the 31st Nov. 1816, at Kennet, (10 miles from the borough of Wilmington, Delaware,) CHRISTIANA WEBB, in the 94th year of her age. She was the last of the 17 children, of Daniel and Jane Hoopes. Her father and grand father came from England, with William Penn, in the year 1682. Of those 17 children, eleven averaged upwards of 80 years. The aggregate ages of the whole was 1036 years. Remarkable as these circumstances are, they are, perhaps, not more than that throughout this long period all of them had their dwellings, died and lie interred within twenty miles of the last residence and burial place of their said ancestors. at the advanced age of 100 years and 3 months-her remains were removed to Newbury, her native place, and interred with her ancestors, at the bridge lane burying place. The deceased was greatgrand-child to Mary Brown, the first white child born in the ancient town of Newbury. Her living descendants are two children, 6 grandchildren, 15 great-grand-children, and 30 great-great-grand-children. She lived a widow upwards of 66 years, and enjoyed her mental faculties to the last-and her health was continued to her to such a degree that she was able to walk about the room till within a few days of her death, when at length worn out by age, she resigned her protracted life to the hands of Him who gave it, and "was gathered in to her fathers like a shock of corn full, ripe." Died, at the Creek Agency, on the 6th June, 1816, Colonel BENJAMIN HAWKINS, Agent for the Indian affairs. He was one of those revolutionary patriots who had spent in the service of his country, to which no man was more devoted, nearly his whole life. At an advanced age, and with a constitution greatly exhausted, he continued to discharge with undiminished zeal the important and perplexing duties of agent, as well as commissioner for marking the limits prescribed to the Creek nation by the late treaty. With a philanthropy worthy of all praise, he had relinquished the enjoyments of polished society, in which he shone conspicuously, with the sanguine hope of civilizing our savage neighbours. This was a favourite object, which for years engrossed almost exclusive Died, in Salem, N. H. Decem-ly his attention. Partial was his ber, 1816, Widow SARAH MORSE, success in effecting this purpose, |