congratulating her escape, when I slipped down an abrupt declivity, nearly to my neck in snow! I soon recovered, and, after ascertaining the old path, we scrambled away to our comfortable lodgings in Farndale. In going to bed, when half undressed, all being still, the family retired, and my turf fire not out,-I sat down, and wrote the following thoughts, which I put into a

SOLILOQUY.

Millions of

I exist on the surface of this globe. worlds above, below, and around me; but at such inconceivable distances as to appear like sparkling diamonds. What is that space between them ?— that infinite seeming vacuity in which these mighty globes revolve, and, according to astronomers, with a regularity and velocity unutterably astonishing? Is it the abode of spirits? Perhaps so. But how immeasurably profound our ignorance of the essence of spiritual beings! "God is a spirit." Angels and the souls of men are spirits. Fallen angels are spirits. And what shall I myself be ere long? A disembodied spirit! With what a fearful rapidity do the days and years of my life pass away! In this travelling and preaching life, years seem shorter and shorter; months more limited than ever; weeks almost as days when I was a school-boy; days as hours; hours as minutes; minutes as seconds. Lord! help me so to number my days that I may apply my heart unto wisdom!

I then prayed, put out my candle and got into bed.

The Pickering Wesleyan ministers, when I was there, in going what was called "the Dale Round," were from home from breakfast time on Sunday morning until about ten o'clock on the following Friday night. But notwithstanding inconvenience from weather, and absence from their libraries and studies, they had many comforts. I recollect, with thankfulness and pleasure, many nice little rooms, (very homely indeed,) complete snuggeries, where I used to read and think and write to advantage. There is, as the reader will have seen, a difference as to facilities for study. As to kindness and goodwill, I think I may say I found it universal. In every house I met with a kind reception and true Yorkshire hospitality. In fine summer weather a preacher, if he will, may improve his mind by taking his book out of doors. Visiting in the Dales is inconvenient both from the long distances of the houses one from another, and the busy habits of the people. The sick and the dying, however, I always visited, when duly informed about them. It is an utter impossibility for any travelling preacher to visit from house to house like a fixed pastor. That we might visit more than we generally do, may perhaps be admitted. But the heavy censures heaped upon us by people who either do not, or will not, understand the nature and extent of our work, are at once unjust and oppressive.

The return home on Friday night, after the Dale preachings, was attended with comfortable anticipations of seeing one's family. Accustomed, as I had been from time to time, to find all right on my

return, I was not prepared on one occasion of returning for a painful exception,-three children ill; two of them dangerously so; one of them, a sweet little girl, a year and a half old, near death, and a few days after in her grave. Since that time a healthy little boy, born in Pickering, died at the age of two years and a half. But why mention all this? Bereavements are common. Heart-breakings, when sickness and death attack us, are known to thousands. I have touched these tender points in my “Lecture on Paradise," and shall now dismiss the subject; but not without a reflection.

Death in a family makes, and ought to make, a serious and powerful impression. Happy would it be for us if every day it constituted one topic amongst others of secret meditation. All our cheerfulness and allowable hilarity should be qualified, moderated, superintended, and disciplined by wholesome thoughts of death. It is not essential to the vigour of piety to make death the principal subject of meditation. We have the active duties and necessary engagements of life to attend to. The true preparation for death does not consist in mere musings, but in being found in the way of duty. The man who, in imitation of our Saviour, "works the work of him that sent him, while it is day," is prepared for that night of death which "cometh, when no man can work." (John iv. 4.) Mere seriousness is not a preparation for death. Standing alone it can be found in characters remarkable for inactivity and gross inattention to important duties. What will it do for us when we are called

to give an account of our stewardship, and to be judged according to the deeds done in the body? Mere faith is not a preparation for death, that is, if it be a mere mental speculation or principle of knowledge acting on motives of credibility. "These things," says St. Paul," I will that thou affirm constantly that they which have believed in God might be careful to maintain good works. These things are good and profitable unto men." (Titus iii. 8.) While we cultivate seriousness then-I mean the seriousness which springs from a very sincere belief of the gospel and a determination to obey it, let us cheerfully do good, and patiently suffer evil. Let us be generous, affectionate, and good tempered. Let us avoid censoriousness and uncommanded extremes in reference to things having nothing to do with the weightier matters of the law. Let us not be severe in our remarks on the behaviour of good men or good women because they are a little humorous. Let us, above all things, avoid the temptation to make unjust reflections on their piety, and indirectly to punish them. Let us imitate the sweetness and love and obedience of Jesus Christ, our master and our teacher, as well as saviour, and when death comes we shall be found prepared to enter into the "joy of our Lord."

CHAPTER XII.

CHESTERFIELD.

THE only thing very remarkable I have to relate in connection with my two years' sojourn in Chesterfield, is the visit of an American Revivalist. I will yield to no man in intense desire and proper endeavours to promote true religion; and I am not without a hope that in the great day of judgment, when every man's doings and every man's motives shall undergo the searching investigation of an omniscient God, my humble services as an evangelist will be found to have been to a considerable extent efficient. I could now relate numerous instances of sinners converted to God and Christians edified and comforted under my humble ministrations; but, however much I may play, or seem to play, the egotist in other respects, I never liked to talk about my religious successes as a preacher.

The Revivalist's ways of proceeding were altogether strange and extraordinary. He came to this country announcing to everybody, by placards and by other means, his "call to visit Europe." He held religious services for weeks in succession in