the world had ever known. Each country was its temple. The forum and the senate, the city, the river, and the road, the gymnasium and the sanctuary, teemed with its associations, and yet the truth, the simple truth prevailed, because the Spirit was in it, and that Spirit gave it life. Again, in the first ages of the promulgation of Christianity, the civil power was its most determined antagonist. Princes joined the priesthood and the rabble to shed the blood of Christians. The Caesars on the throne rallied the armies of the empire to exterminate it from the face of the earth; and yet it lived! Persecution became only the medium of its progress. The lightning which was intended to scathe it only lighted up its beautiful countenance, and, like a lambent flame, played harmlessly about its nobie brow. And it is as efficacious now as it has ever been. It has the same energy within itself; it has the same ever-living Spirit to apply it to the human soul. It cares not who comes to its altar-the man rolling in wealth, but who has found in his wealth no refuge, or the poor starveling, to whom the crust is a luxury, and the spring a fountain of the greatest delight. It cares not who comes to its altar-the child whose infant feet have trodden upon the blossoms of some seven springs, or the veteran whose hairs are whitened with the snows of seventy winters. It bids them all a hearty welcome, and it sends them to their houses justified and rejoicing in the Lord."

For all that we have written in commendation of Mr. Punshon's power to arouse and arrest an audience by the flow of an impassioned eloquence, we think he would attain more power frequently if he were calmer and steadier. He wants, and the hearers want, eloquent pauses and quiet, forcible appeals. Some are likely to go away muttering, "Words! words! words!" They rush in such an impetuous torrent; they foam, and tumble, and roar. Some men's souls need and look for quieter treatment and calmer appeals. After all the pulpit is not intended to afford an opportunity for the display of flowing and gorgeous oratory; it supplies the means for getting at men's hearts and consciences, for rousing them to consider the chief good and doing the will of the Most High. There are times when we feel as though eloquence, as men reckon it, were out of place there, and that man would help us most who had a few plain, honest, gracious, kindly words to speak to us for our good. The rush of an eloquent discourse would be foreign to our tastes and repulsive to our deepest needs. At such times Dr. Punshon has his hardest struggle and difficulty. And we would remind him that they are not infrequent in any church or chapel. It is possible for him to cultivate more simplicity of diction and repose of manner, without taking up those platitudes which, perhaps, it is not after all very remarkable that the pulpit has so largely maintained. We know that he feels the truth of these remarks, for we have the deepest conviction of the reality of his pur

pose, and the sincerity of his work. He himself said to some young preachers in Canada on one occasion-"Of course, you will not descend to become pulpit buffoons, nor savage polemics, nor ecclesiastical posture-masters, nor small dealers in literary millinery; but according to your cast of mind, you may argue, or expound, or declaim, or depict-and the power may rush through the argument, or lurk in the calm statement of truth, or leap from the eloquent words into the sinner's conscience, or through the picture melt the penitent to tears." This we readily admit; but still claim that the excessive employment of any of these qualifications will mar rather than aid the one great object which every preacher sets before him.

Some of Mr. Punshon's perorations are powerful with these elements of usefulness. As, for instance, in the close of a sermon on "Redemption and its Claims":—

"And now, go your way, mingle with what company you choose, employ yourselves in such avocations as you deem befitting; but remember and I bind it upon you to-night as by a spell from which you cannot disenchant yourselves, under whose power you shall pass to your eternity-remember, that the vows of the Lord are upon you. Let the question of accountability and of stewardship be perpetually sounding amid the storms and billows of this lower world, and in all relationships, and in all circumstances, and at every time, and in every place, let it be graven upon your heart of hearts, the solemn and the holy covenant, ye are not your own, for ye are bought with a price,' and should, therefore, glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's."

Mr. Punshon is not a declaimer; and he has been of great service to his own branch of the Church in setting an example which her ministers may cherish with great advantage. The careful preparation and literary skill which are always evident in his compositions, reprove the tendency to fervid emphasis and exclamation which has often been too common in the Methodist pulpit.

ANDREW MARVEL AND HIS FRIENDS.

A STORY OF THE SIEGE OF HULL.

BY MARIE HALL, née SIBREE.

Author of "Sermons from the Studio," "The Sculptor of Bruges," &c.

CHAPTER IX.-ACROSS THE SNOW TO WINESTEAD.

ALICE made her preparations for going to Winestead somewhat regretfully; it was the first time she had ever paid a visit, except to

friends residing in Hull, and she shrank from meeting strangers. Only one thing reconciled her to the change, and that was the hope of drawing her father away from his cares, at least for a little time. He was hungering for news; but it was too early to look for another epistle from Vane, or any other London correspondent. Nothing would have induced the Colonel to leave home just now but a sense of duty; the opportunity had arisen for Alice to mingle with wellbred society; and although, in his eyes, his daughter was everything that could be desired, he thought she might gain more confidence in herself from intercourse with the ladies of Winestead. The Hildyards were one of the oldest families in the neighbourhood, and gathered round them, within their hospitable hall, people of rank and influence.

Janet was proud for Alice to go; and Lucy, who was to accompany her mistress, was vastly pleased with the prospect of seeing great folks, and mixing with other servants, for the Colonel's dependants were well advanced in years, and the kitchen was not very lively for a young girl. The day before they started, Dorothy Crowle looked in to wish Alice a pleasant journey and to say good-bye.

"I am sorry you are going, Alice, just now," said Dolly, "for there is a good man come to the town who preaches to a few people meeting together in a small room. He is a Puritan, of course, and makes me think much of our dear Mr. Marvel."

"What is his name?" asked Alice.

"Mr. Philip Nye; mother and I heard him last Sabbath, and I wanted to call for you, but she said I had better wait until we had heard him again, and knew something more of his doctrines. But you must go, Alice, when you come back."

Dolly was still praising the stranger's sermons when the Colonel joined the maidens. "What is making Mistress Dorothy so eloquent ?" he asked.

"I was but speaking of the new minister: maybe, you will have heard of him?" replied Dorothy.

"Ah, yes; Philip Nye is a light that cannot be hid. I am glad he is shining once more in England. Some years ago he fled to Rotterdam from the persecutions of Archbishop Laud. But, Alice, I came to say that Will is sending a cart to Winestead to-day, and your bags must be ready by noon. He rides over himself this evening."

"Why, father, I did not know that Will was going."

Nor I, until this morning. He declined Sir Clifford's invitation when at York, because of his mother, but she wishes him to go, and says that perhaps he may find a wife there."

"Will need not go so far to seek a lady fair," said Alice,

glancing involuntarily at Dorothy, who was adjusting her hood at the mirror.

"So he said himself," replied the Colonel. "Nevertheless, he seemed very well pleased to go when his mother proposed it, and Sir Guy will be glad that he has changed his mind."

""Tis fortunate that Will had to go this evening, father," remarked Alice, when Dolly had gone. "I like him well enough, but I want you all to myself, father; I shall see little of you when we get to the Hall."

Alice woke up early next morning, for, notwithstanding her partial dislike to going, she felt excited by the novelty of a journey, and a little curious about the fresh faces she should see. There was Kate Hildyard, Ralph's sister, of whom he had frequently spoken. She must be a charming maiden, if reports spake truly. Alice wondered, as she stood dressing in the gray dawn, whether Mistress Kate would be a fine lady, and look down upon her simple self, or whether she would be gentle and friendly like Dorothy Crowle. And then there was Ralph himself. Her mind had dwelt so much upon his rival Andrew, and on public affairs, that she had well nigh forgotten Ralph's existence-a fact that would have deeply mortified that gentleman had he known it. This morning she remembered, with an uncomfortable sensation, how he had annoyed her with his civilities last spring. She hoped, however, that, with other ladies in the house, she should now be spared some of his attentions.

Soon after eleven o'clock the Colonel's favourite black horse stood in the courtyard, bearing a saddle and pillion; and, at the stable door, was Simon's stout cob, similarly accoutred, for carrying Lucy and himself. The day was fine, though the snow lay a few inches on the ground; but Alice was well protected from the cold; her cloak and boots were lined with the softest furs, the costly gifts of old Master Rotenherring, a foreign merchant, living in Hull, who had conceived a great admiration for the maiden. A pretty blue silk hood completed her equipment, making so sweet a picture that the Colonel's fatherly pride might be forgiven, as he seated her carefully behind him, and bade his good steed tread firmly over the slippery roads. Leaving them to find their way across the snow, and through the little forest that skirted the Winestead estate, we will look in at the Hall, where they are expected every moment.

Ralph Hildyard had only arrived there the night before, from London, and he had still much to tell Kate of his doings since they last met. The brother and sister had always clung closely together since they had been left fatherless and motherless, and Ralph's contact with the selfish world had not weakened his warm affection for Kate, or led him to withdraw from her his unreserved confidence. There

was a younger brother, Henry; but of late years he had been associated with the friends of Lord Strafford, and all his sympathies were with the King. Ralph was influenced by men of opposite opinions, and so their interests became divided, to the sorrow of old Sir Guy Hildyard, who, like his elder grandson, had a high respect for Pym and Hampden. Henry had excused himself from the Christmas gathering, and his absence was as much a relief as it was a source of regret to the happy household.

Ralph was seated now in Kate's dressing-room, turning her dark curls round his fingers, fingers that almost rivalled her own in shape and whiteness, for the brother and sister were wonderfully alike, with the same dark hair and eyes, and the same Italian complexion.

"I was glad when I heard she was coming," said Ralph, for the third time." Grandfather could not have done me a better service, though he did not know it. But I thought she would refuse; she is so shy before strangers, and the Colonel always seemed too full of business to leave home a day for pleasure."

Perhaps her father wishes her to get used to seeing strange folks," replied Kate. "She can't always be mewed up like a nun if she is as lovely as you say, Ralph; unless she marries an uncouth trader, that will value her only for the ornament she will be in his house."

"Come, Katherine, you think too ill of these merchants. All the learning and politeness isn't confined to the noble and gentle. I have seen merchants in Hull that would put some of our courtiers even to shame by their good manners and knowledge of books. Think of the De La Poles of Hull, who married into the royal family, and rose almost to the throne itself; the haughtiest noble in England could not surpass them in dignity of manner, or goodliness of person. And in these days I see no worthier men than those who frequent Colonel Lister's mansion."

"Well, 'tis something rare and new for Ralph Hildyard, who is as proud as any living gentleman of his ancestry, and of the rich blood that flows in his veins, to be trumpeting the praises of mushroom knights and wealthy traders; this merchant's niece has surely bewitched you;" and Kate laughed rather scornfully.

"Perhaps she has. But, Kate, the times are changing now, and if we would see peace and order restored to this land, it is not on the nobles and gentry we shall have to depend; but we must look to these traders that you despise, who take life earnestly. If the laws are broken, they suffer most; their liberty and trade is taken away. They are often not rich enough to get redress, and yet many of them will give up everything rather than submit to injustice. I am inclined to think, sometimes, that to have such a