granted, a very pleasing picture of the chief features of the Christian religion. I see many things in a different light from that in which I have been too long accustomed to view them. I am obliged to you for every kindness which you have shewn to me during my sickness; but more especially for the pains which you have taken to correct my erroneous notions of Christianity. I cannot, however, undertake to receive the Sacrament at present; but to-morrow, at twelve o'clock, you shall give me, at least, the benefit of your prayers, and I will myself join with you." I will be with you," I replied, as I rose to go away, "at the time appointed; and, meanwhile, may God send his Holy Spirit to enlighten your mind, and to purify your heart!"

As I pursued my walk in the discharge of other clerical duties, I reflected, with satisfaction, upon the scene which had just passed. We had not, indeed, yet arrived at any practical religious act; but a time close at hand was fixed for a beginning; and a foundation appeared to be laid, which a few days ago seemed utterly hopeless. He had himself mentioned the Sacrament in a most abrupt and unexpected manner. I had said nothing which could have naturally led to it; and I cannot conjecture by what train of thought it occurred to him, or why he spoke of it, as he appeared, for the present at least, to have no intention of receiving it. However, I hoped that his having first mentioned it himself would facilitate my progress hereafter; and I prepared myself by meditation and secret prayer for the probable events of the morrow.

The morrow came, and I hastened to fulfil my en

gagement; but unavoidable accidents kept me on the road a few minutes beyond the hour of twelve. On entering the house I saw at once the marks of some great calamity. Mrs. Waring hurried down stairs to me; consternation sat upon her countenance. I enquired eagerly what was the matter; and was answered that her husband was dying. “Oh! Sir,” she said, "he has been very impatient for your arrival. He has asked again and again if it were twelve o'clock.-Again and again he has expressed a great alarm lest you should not be here in time." I rushed up stairs, much disturbed, and struck with awe at the doings of the Almighty. Here was a striking instance of the wretched weakness of man, and of His irresistible power. Mr. Waring, yesterday so much better and stronger, with the prospect of some weeks at least before him; and so far renewed in the spirit of his mind as to have appointed this day and this hour for the commencement of religious exercises, was stretched upon the bed of death, and now almost a lifeless corpse. His eyes were closed; his face was black and ghastly; his throat gurgled horribly, as the breath forced a passage through it. I seized his hand, and pressed it. He opened his eyes convulsively, and shut them instantly. He attempted to speak, but no intelligible sounds escaped from his lips. Nevertheless his mind was manifestly not yet gone; and I hoped that he still possessed the sense of hearing. I knelt down, therefore, and began in a loud and solemn tone that most beautiful, affecting, and divine prayer, which is prescribed for the sick at the point of their departure. His lips moved, as if he were trying to accompany me. This sign of God's gracious goodness towards him, in the midst of his

dreadful agony, for a moment overpowered me, and of necessity I stopped. He began to speak, and I put my head close to catch his words. He said, "It is very comfortable to me ;" and that was all which I could distinctly understand. It was evident that he did not finish the sentence which he intended; for he began over and over again in the same words. When he had entirely ceased, I resumed the prayer; his lips moved again for a short time, and then became motionless altogether. I grasped his hand, and asked him, if he died in the faith of Jesus Christ. He gave me no sign. Unwilling to witness his last moments, I withdrew; ejaculating to Heaven a petition for the salvation of his soul, and at length relieved by tears.

CHAPTER II.

MR. SAMBROOK-ATHEISM.

As I was sitting at home one rainy day, and earnestly engaged in the preparation of a sermon for the following Sunday, expecting that the weather would have secured me from all chance of being disturbed by visitors, the name of Mr. Sambrook was announced. He was a considerable farmer, with whom I had long wished to have an opportunity of conversing, and which I had totally despaired of obtaining, unless it might please Providence to inflict some lingering calamity upon him. I was well aware that the object of his present visit was entirely secular; but I hoped to extract something spiritual out of it, and therefore put by my papers with great satisfaction, and desired that he might be brought into my study.

A short, fat, rosy man, beyond the middle age, was introduced. His dress and manner were rough for a person having so much intercourse with the neighbouring town; but there was a liveliness and cheerfulness in his whole air and gestures, which induced me at once to think that I might say what I chose to him, consistently with my situation, without the danger of giving him offence. And certainly it seemed necessary that much should be said: at Church I never had seen him; he was accused of acts of

uncommon profligacy, and he was bringing up his family in an absolute neglect of all religion. Having thus estranged himself from my spiritual ministrations, he assumed that he was emancipated from the payment of tithes ; and, in fact, I was compelled to file a bill against him in the Exchequer, which now brought him to the rectory; for he did not love law, although he seldom did what was just without it; and indeed he loved it the less, because it sometimes forced him to do justice.

Did

"I am come to you, Sir," he said, as I rose to meet him, “about this Exchequer business." I desired him to sit down, and I sat down myself near him. “I did not think, Sir," he began again," that you would have been so harsh with me, as to exchequer me."—" I am sorry," I answered, "that you have made it necessary. My lawyer informed me that there was no other way of settling the account. he not write to you upon the subject long ago ?" He allowed it. "How many times?" I enquired. He could not say how many times; but I knew that he had written often. "Have you ever seen him?" I enquired again. "Yes," he said. "When?" I asked. "I think it is a year ago," he replied. "And did you not then fix a time for the settlement ?"—" Why, to be sure I did," was his answer. "But you did not fulfil your promise, I suppose, by the event. Did he write to you again, when the day had passed, to remind you?"-"I cannot deny but he did," said Mr. Sambrook, very unwillingly, and not at all pleased with this system of questioning and answering, which only compelled him to condemn himself out of his own mouth. However, I proceeded. "You went to him, I presume, when matters