followed by an admirable sketch of the character of our deceased friend. But I can do no more than transcribe the subjoined paragraph, which I took down at the time I heard it :—

"When it pleaseth God to visit our friends with a lengthened indisposition before he removes them, we have the pleasure of administering to them the consolations of religion-of exchanging the expressions of Christian sympathy--and catching from their lips some sublime expressions of anticipated bliss. The sufferings, however, which they generally endure are so keen and so poignant, that in many instances we are thankful when the contest is over. But if death comes in an unexpected hour, and bears off a friend without giving us any warning, we are plunged into the lowest abyss of sorrow, because we are denied the privilege of bidding him adieu: yet as a mitigation of our anguish we have this consolation, that he was not called to walk through the dreary valley, being borne as 'on angels' wings' to heaven. In such a case his departure partakes more of a translation than an act of dying; he oversteps the grave, and enters into the possession of his purchased inheritance without having his fears awakened by the solemnity of his removal, or his peace disturbed by the anxieties and distress which it occasions to others. One hour he is with his friends on earth, busily employed in all the duties of his station-the next with his friends in the celestial world, joining with them in their ascriptions of praise to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb. One hour he is mourning here below over the imperfections of his character-the next he feels himself made perfect in purity and in blessedness; and while those who revered and loved him are weeping around his breathless corpse, he is taking his part in the exercises of that sacred temple in which the worshippers serve the Lord day and night for ever."

At last the long expected Wednesday night came, and Mr. Stevens drove me in his gig to Farmer Pickford's, where I found the barn full of people waiting my arrival. His son George commenced the service by reading a hymn, and he read it very well; he then led

off the singing; his brother Harry, a good tenor, standing on his left, and his father, a good bass, on his right. His mother, with two or three younger females, stood behind, and altogether a very effective rustic choir was formed. I selected for my text the 23d verse of the 11th chapter of the Acts-"Who, when he came, and had seen the grace of God, was glad, and exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart they would cleave unto the Lord."

"This, my dear brethren," I observed, "is very likely the last time I may ever meet you, and address you, in this rustic temple, which is as glorious in the eyes of the Holy One of Israel, as the magnificent temple at Jerusalem, which was his local dwelling-place in ancient times. For here he has condescended to visit you, though unseen, and listen to your prayers and your praises; and here the glorious gospel of his grace has proved his power to your salvation. Yes, when you have finished your course, and the conflict is over, and when you have gained the prize of your high calling, your recollections will hover over this hallowed spot, as the spiritual birth-place of your immortal souls; where you were quickened into newness of life; and where 'after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory' (Eph. i. 13, 14). I solemnly charge every one of you to be faithful unto death, otherwise you will die in your sins, and be lost for ever. And how dreadful would such a loss be!"

The service closed in the usual way, and the congregation dispersed. The Farmer introduced several persons to me, who had received spiritual benefit from the sermon on the conversion of Zaccheus, particularly his neighbour Farmer Richards, of whose conversion he had previously given me some account, and who was invited to sup with us. This meal was as sumptuous as the former one. It was soon over; and then before I rose from the table I thus addressed them:-"Great spiritual changes, my dear friends, have taken place in your family since I took my first meal in this kitchen. You," addressing Mr. P., "were then an unen

lightened and an unrenewed man, living without God in the world, without Christ, and without hope; but now, with your dear wife, you have passed from death unto life; have both tasted that the Lord is gracious; are made fellow-heirs of the grace of life; and can rejoice in the hope of your final salvation. Your first-born has long since yielded himself to God, as one alive from the dead: and there sits by your side your long-lost George, unexpectedly restored to you, and made a new creature in Christ Jesus before he came back to receive your parental benediction. And though the younger children are not yet brought within the bonds of the covenant”—(I was here interrupted by the Farmer, who, under an excitement he could not repress, exclaimed, "I think our Sam is, for I saw him on his knees in prayer the other night.”)—“I am glad to hear this, and I trust that he, like his two brothers, will yield himself to God, to be renewed, sanctified, and saved; and that his dear sisters will follow their example; and that all of you will be saved, and glorified in the celestial world." "The Lord grant it may be so," said all. At the urgent request of Mrs. Pickford, I read a psalm, and prayed with the family. It was a solemn service-more solemn than any preceding one, because it was the last. Many wept when on their knees, and some wept when they rose up, to give and receive the final farewell. I hastily shook hands with every one in the room, simply saying, as I went out, "Lord bless you, and keep you. I hope we shall meet in heaven." "Amen!" was the response, given with an earnestness and a solemnity that was almost overpowering.

When the Farmer came to button the apron of our gig, he again took my hand; and he said, as the tear fell from his eye, "The Lord be praised for sending you to taste my ale and cream cheese, and you be thanked for coming. I hope you will pray for me, that I may stick close to the Lord, with all my heart and soul; and I hope you will always pray for our George and his brother Sam, when the wind gets up. Good night, gemmen; a safe ride to Fair

mount. Farewell."

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

NE morning, while at breakfast at Fairmount, I was surprised by a note from Mr. John Ryder, requesting the favour of a call from me, at Aston, before I returned home. The reader will remember Mr. Ryder* as a suitor of Miss Denham, and the affecting farewell of the latter to him on her death-bed.

"There is a mystery in this," said Mr. Stevens, "which I cannot account for. I have not seen Mr. Ryder for many months. Miss Denham's death was a dreadful blow to him, and since then he has never recovered his wonted spirits, but become quite a recluse, neither paying nor receiving any visits."

"Who can tell?" I remarked; "her death may issue in his spiritual life. I will send a reply, saying that I will call on him to-morrow evening."

"He is a noble character," said Mrs. Stevens; "and a young man of great intelligence and most amiable disposition. I trust his affliction has led him to direct his attention to the only true source of consolation. Indeed, I have some grounds for hoping that this is the case, as I understand he has been very regular in his attendance at church for some time past."

On going to Aston the following evening to call on Mr. Ryder, I unexpectedly met him, and we walked together to his house. After thanking me for my promptness in thus responding to his request, he proceeded to disclose to me, without much reserve, the deep perplexity and strongly excited state of his mind on the question of personal religion; asking me, at the same time, for my advice, and how he should act to obtain relief from his perplexities and depression of spirit.

He frankly confessed that prior to the death of Miss Denham, for * Vol. i. p. 420.

whom he had long cherished a most ardent attachment, he had imbibed some vague sceptical opinions against religion. Her dying farewell, however, both astonished and confounded him, particularly the last words which she addressed to him:-"We now part, but I hope not for ever. Death, which is now removing me, may soon call for you; and then I hope you will find that consolation in the death of a despised Saviour, which it has pleased God, very unexpectedly and undeservedly, to give to me." "I never,” he remarked, "heard her say anything like this before. She was now entering the dark unknown world; but it appears that she derived consolation from the death of Jesus Christ. How is this? said I, as I withdrew from the chamber of death; and how can it be? I have said thousands of times since. However, what I saw and heard on that awfully appalling occasion left an indelible conviction on my mind, that there is a something in religion suited to humanity at the most momentous period of its history. But what is that something? I said to myself. Is it a hidden mystery which the great teacher death alone can explain; or is it possible to get the mystery explained before death comes? This is the emphatic question I wish you to solve, as my happiness both in this world and the next depends on its solution."

In token of his sincerity, he told me that he had altogether withdrawn from the gay world; regularly attended his parish church, and had taken the sacrament several times. He now read the Bible, and other devotional books, in preference to novels and periodicals; and went through a regular form of private prayer, both morning and evening. He closed by saying:-"But, like a man surrounded by a thick mist when crossing some wild moor, I know not whether I am going right or wrong-I can obtain no satisfaction."

I was about to reply to this communication, when our arrival at Aston, and the appearance of Miss Ryder, to whom I was introduced by her brother, put a stop to further conversation on the subject for the present. We now entered the house, and while tea was preparing, Mr. Ryder proposed that we should take a turn round the