mysterious hand that had rent away what was most precious to me. This could not be done in a place where I had before attended divine service: the wound was too recent, too agonizingly fresh, to admit of sitting beside his vacant seat, in the temple where we had so often worshipped to

exist in its individual character? Why not bow to the penal fiat, and suffer the dust to mingle with its original? I like not to see the burial-ground so unfairly apportioned, as that the rich may fence off, from century to century, a spot where no spade can come: while the poor must be often tossed out of their graves, in visi-gether. The path to this retired churchble and loathsome fragments, because of a senseless monopoly maintained by, perhaps, old coffins of many hundred years' date. This, however, is a passing remark.

On

yard lay through a corn-field. When
last I had visited my favourite yew, that
field presented a bare surface, excepting
where a tender blade, more forward than
its fellows, had here and there struggled
through the soil, and looked abroad.
this sad sabbath my thoughts were so
confused under their oppressive weight,
that I forgot the lapse of time; and find-
ing myself in a field of rich ripening
wheat, I turned back, saying, "This is not
the way." The little gate was silently
pointed out to me, and I proceeded. Even
at this hour I must again bless the Lord,
for what He, who comforteth them that
are cast down, then spoke to my heavy
It was not long since the seed of

lamented one: and in the absence of strong evidence (afterwards given) that it had indeed taken root, unbelief was striving desperately within; and asking, "Was there time for it to shoot forth ?" Here was an answer so scripturally beautiful that I am never weary of dwelling on

However interesting in other respects the scene adverted to might be, there was one prime object of attraction to those who visited it: this was the ancient yew, which seemed to be coeval at least with the oldest of man's surrounding works. The tree was singularly fine: its trunk, of large circumference, was so completely hollowed out by age, that to one who entered the natural alcove thus formed, and calculated the thickness of the outer crust, it was matter of amazement how so slen-heart. der a support could suffice for the enor- divine truth had been sown, by the mous weight of branches that shot out preaching of the word to that beloved and above-or even convey adequate nourish- | ment to those branches. Below, it was to all appearance, a blighted, broken, and crumbling ruin above, a noble, vigorous, healthy tree, rich in renovated youth, and overshadowing a wide extent of humble graves. Indeed, the very poorest who could not afford even a wooden memorial | the type. As far as weeks and months of their loss, seemed to claim the ancient yew as a sort of natural protector-a monument planted by Him who careth for the poor, to cover their despised remains. I loved to draw the wild plants aside, and peruse the monumental inscriptions, enclosed within their veil: I loved to trace out the remote dates of those old grey head-stones, with their rude carvings of weeping cherubim: and I loved to ponder on the simple, often very touching lines, traced on decaying boards: but my chosen station was amid the cluster of nameless graves overshadowed by the patriarchal yew.

were concerned, a much longer time had been allowed for the spiritual than the natural growth; and the passage was brought before me with a vividness impossible to describe. It was Jesus himself who had said, "So is the kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground; and should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed should spring, and grow up, he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit of itself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth forth the sickle, because the harvest is On two occasions I visited this spot, un- come." I might have read the passage a der circumstances never to be forgotten. hundred times and not have caught its On the first sabbath after the falling of applicability: but here was the realizathe heaviest blow that ever smote me, I tion-here was the bright golden grain, repaired to that comparatively distant drooping for very richness its mellow church to worship-to bow before the head before me, on the precise spot where

I had so lately seen only a cheerless ex- | stood, a green and flourishing thing, panse of dull grey soil. The wonders of where all else was but wreck and deformcreative power we make light of, through daily familiarity with their stupendous grandeur; but God does sometimes so reveal to the mourning soul the beautiful Jink which his own sweet parables have woven between them and the wonders of regenerating grace, that a voice comes, mighty alike in power and in love saying, "Be still and know that I am God." That voice calmed in a moment the tempest of my soul, and He gave me that day the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Blessed be his name! The dumb boy, whose tearful eyes watched every change of my countenance, immediately marked the alteration: he knew not how comfort had been given; but well did he know whence it came: and as we passed the churchyard gate, he made to me the short, but sweet and soothing remark, "Jesus Christ loves poor Mam."

The other particular visit was for a purpose scarcely less touching: in some points even more so. The hand of death was upon that boy; and his days were so evidently numbered, that another week seemed the utmost limit of his mortal existence. I left him under good care, and bent my way, beneath a cold, bleak wintry wind, to the churchyard, to fix on a spot for his mortal remains to rest in, beneath his favourite yew-tree. The design was afterwards abandoned, and another burialplace selected; but at the time I fully purposed to lay him there. How magnificent did the yew-tree look on that day! Midwinter had stripped every branch beside. Oaks and elms stood bare, with spreading arms, sturdily resisting the gale; and the tall naked poplar waved wildly before its breath. Heavy clouds were drifting, dark and low; while the long, meagre grass clogged with damp, and pressed downward by the sweeping wind, added to the desolate character of a scene that it was wont to embellish with softer loveliness. It was then that the fine outline of the ancient yew appeared in fuller, bolder relief against the sky. Slightly discomposed by the blast, its waving branches only displayed more openly the richness of their abundant foliage. It 34

VOL. II.

ity. How could I look upon this noble spread of unwithering branches from a poor, decayed, broken trunk, that seemed only fit for firewood, without recurring to the "far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," that God was preparing for my dying boy, out of the light afflictions" then working the destruction of his mortal frame, that his spirit might flee away and be at rest. There was a sublimity in that scene and hour, to which no effort of man's hand or head can attain. It was the grandeur of a new creation, rising from the emphatic wreck of all below it and around finding a congenial element in the very breath that blasted the fairest things of earth, and typifying what we are so slow of heart to believe-the persevering grace bestowed by the Giver of every good and perfect gift, on the souls that he has brought out from regions of sin and death. "Son of man, can these bones live?" was the question that made trial of Ezekiel's faith, when he looked round him on the dry and bleaching fragments of mortality, scattered in the valley. In like manner it might be asked can this aged, decayed trunk, scarcely retaining substance enough to support its upright position, shoot out the spreading bough, and toss the vigorous branch on high? Even so, likewise, is he who, convinced of the plague of the heart, finds that from the crown of his dead to the sole of the foot there is no sound part in him, but wounds and bruises and putrifying sores, tempted to doubt, can God bring a clean thing out of what is essentially unclean? Can he make perfect his strength in weakness like mine? But the dry bones lived, and stood up, an exceeding great army, marching cheerily onward to Canaan. The shattered yewtree-the wreck of unknown centurieslooked down in broad and flourishing vegetation, upon many a successive race crumbling among its roots: and the arm of the Lord, almighty to save, is never shortened, nor his power straitened towards the sinful children of men. No feebleness of body, no prostration of mind, can let him when he wills to work. However degenerate the vine of a strange

plant may be before him, he can graft it with a noble vine, wholly a right seed, and crown it with luxuriant fertility.

of the forest advance an irresistible claim to preference. The burning rays of a sultry noon, reflected, as it were, from the highly tinted petals of blushing roses, golden lilies, and the countless varieties which emulate their glowing hues, are almost insupportable, unless some friendly shadow be cast from those patrons of the vegetable world. But who, at such op

that wide-spreading foliage which is the pride of our English scenery? The flattest prospect is animated by it; the most dull, tame outlay of ploughed fields derives life and beauty from its intersecting hedgerows, if here and there a well-grown tree start up to break the level of their verdant lines.

My last view of the stately old tree-for I never revisited the spot--filled me with such rejoicing thoughts; naturally leading to the glorious mystery of the body's resurrection from its sleep in the dust. Every grave before me was the visible portal of a mansion containing many chambers:-pressive season, can resist the charms of who could tell the number of the departed, within the confines of that ancient place of sepulture! Who could conceive the awful reality of the earth disclosing her dead, and each individual rising with his own body, to give account of the things done therein, during his sojourn here! There lay the worshipper of beings who could not save him: the poor victim of delusion, whose last cry was to some patron saint, and his strongest hope rested in the masses that should be offered for his deliverance from purgatory. There lay the formalist, whose barren orthodoxy might serve the purposes of self-deception to the verge of the grave, but could carry its fictitious aid no farther. The blasphemer was there, the drunkard, the extortioner, yea, the suicide, whose own hand shut fast the door of repentance against himself. And there, too, was the humble believer, who, counting all things but lost for the excellency of the knowledge of Jesus Christ, won Christ, and will at the last day be found in him, having the righteousness which is by faith of Christ Jesus, and needing nought beside. At such a time and place, how inestimably precious does the gospel of salvation appear! Blessed be God, that gospel is now proclaimed in the antique village church, and its glad sound rustles through the branches of the vener-us; no ravaging hand has brought desoable yew.

There is yet another touching reminiscence connected with the scenery, on which I love to dwell; but the particulars must be reserved for a future chapter.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE CADET.

LOVELY as is the family of flowers, there are times when their more stately brethren

But when the towering monarch of the wood throws high and wide his bold arms, preserving around him a circlet of cool fresh green, where all beyond is parched; or when, from the ridges of hilly ground, dark files of these veteran guardians look down on some peaceful village, the antique little cottages of which have been crumbling away, while they rejoiced in augmenting strength, girding in, with unmoved fidelity, race after race of the sons of men; I think I could be content to pass the longest summer day unenlivened by the smile of a single flower, in meditating on the by-gone years, not merely of my own insignificant span, but of the generations that have appeared and vanished since those plants attained a growth entitling them to the name of trees.

Oh, how strongly do they plead against the thoughtless ingratitude of my people! They seem to say, "Peace has been within our borders, plenteousness within our palaces. No feller has come up against

lation within our rural reign. The Lord has been the defence of our country; the Lord is our lawgiver and our king, He has saved us. Ascribe unto the Lord the honour due unto his name." Thus, lifting their graceful heads on high, they seem to say; but feeble and cold is the response, if any be made to their appeal. Israel was commanded to preserve a special remembrance of her national deliverances -yea, the soul that neglected so to do, was to be cut off. Memorials were instituted, and pillars set up, that no Jew might look thereon without rendering

thanks and praise for the wonderful works | played on his open brow; while the dimthat his fathers had so declared unto him. Their not keeping these great works in remembrance was an especial charge against them; and can we stand guiltless before God, when we behold the monuments that tell of centuries past, through which we have experienced a succession of preservations, deliverances, privileges not to be paralleled in any other land, yet glory not God in our hearts, neither are thankful!