been a hard task indeed, to have prevented one of such an affectionate mind, from visiting a husband, that appeared like one just rising from the grave. But we requested her to compose her mind to the utmost of her power; as tranquillity and rest still appeared so absolutely necessary, even for the preservation of his life. The interview, as you may suppose, was a very affecting one, and when he began telling her, how happy he had been during his illness, and when she began to weep for joy, we took the liberty to interrupt them, requesting them to wait till after a few days, when he might be blessed with the recovery of a little of his strength, and be better able to tell of those good things, which had been such a consolation to his mind, under such a near approach to the grave.

Wor. I thought it providential, that Dr. Skillman repeated his visit just at that time, and was ushered into the room; for he, being a stranger to such sort of conversation, soon interrupted it; and again urged the need of rest, as being just then peculiarly desirable, and that Mr. Merryman need not trouble himself about religion then, as he hoped his life might yet be spared.

"Well,

Loveg. Yes; and when I told him Mr. Merryman's composure of mind arose from that calmness, which true religion was sure to inspire, his answer was, well, that is all I wish to recommend; let every one be happy in his own way." And after he had written another prescription he left us.

Wor. It is astonishing what a surprising effect was produced upon the minds of the people, as soon as it became circulated through the town!

Loveg. Yes, and the more so, as it was scarcely known that a change had taken place as we were all waiting until that afternoon, under the most fearful apprehensions lest every breath should be his last.

Mrs. Wor. The feelings of your mind must have been

very differently exercised, from what they were the Sunday before.

Loveg. The contrast was astonishing. On the former sabbath, every heart was ready to burst with grief; but on the next, they were equally elated with the strongest sensations of joy. This joy I endeavoured to moderate to the best of my power; but that passage then struck me, as being so immediately appropriate, that I could not refrain from taking it as my text: "Ye were full of heaviness, because ye heard that he had been sick. For indeed he was sick, nigh unto death; but God had mercy on him, and not on him ouly, but on me also, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow."* And while I endeavoured to improve the event that had so elated our hopes, it was not to be described what an ecstasy of joy was evidenced in every corner of the Church. Many, even that were enemies to divine truth, were yet friends to Mr. Merryman, and anxious for his recovery. Old Farmer Bitterman, a near relative of Mr. Spiteful, alone was heard to say, he could not understand, why people should make such a fuss about this Parson Merryman, as though no other clergyman could be found as good as he. But others knew better how to appreciate so good a man, and to rejoice in the hopes given that he might still be spared.

Mrs. Wor. But after the Sabbath, during the rest of your stay at Sandover, I hope he continued to mend, as rapidly as might be reasonably expected.

Loveg. Quite so. He could sit up in his bed, take as much food as was desirable, and talk cheerfully and pleasantly to those who were surrounding him; but at the same time, in such a style, as if he had just come out of Heaven. But he still has a hacking cough, which prevents him from taking as much rest as he

should, and complains of a tightness upon his chest, which still alarms us.

Mrs. Wor. I am afraid then, that all is not yet safe? Loveg. I hope it is.-Though I rather fear the Doctor thinks otherwise; he advises him to light diet, and as soon as he can be removed, a change of air.

Wor. Yes, and that matter is already settled. As soon as he has recovered sufficient strength for the journey, I have made him promise to come over to us; and this will be a great relief to my daughter's mind. She is afraid if he continue at Sandover, the innumerable calls, and affectionate attention of the people, will be too much for him. And then she knows that from the ardent desire of his mind to do all the good he can, he will begin his accustomed services sooner than he should. He hopes in less than a fortnight to make a beginning, of at least one short sermon on a Sunday, though at present he is as weak as a child.

Loveg. I am afraid that Dr. Skillman's prohibition will not be attended to, which is, not to begin any duty at least for a month. But his great perplexity is, to procure a proper person to supply his Church. He talks much of Mr. Brightman, who lost his curacy, by differing from his Rector about baptismal regeneration, and because he could not preach conditional justification.

Wor. He is certainly a very desirable man; but is he not now engaged with Mr. Whimsey?

Loveg. Yes, but I have lately had another letter from him, complaining that he is as badly off as he was before. Mr. Whimsey is a strange wild enthusiast.

Wor. Then does he want another situation?

Loveg. He certainly does, Sir.

Wor. Then he shall be written to immediately, that my dear son-in-law's mind may be set at rest. If he should so far recover as to be able to do the whole of

his duty, yet for a considerable while, he should have all the relaxation and ease his situation will admit of. Besides, a supernumerary clergyman of his character and abilities would be a considerable acquisition in this neighbourhood; and, as my younger children want a little private tuition, he would be just the man for that office.

Thus matters were settled. Mr. Worthy wrote immediately to Mr. Brightman, to engage him for Sandover, and gave him a liberal offer of support: but he could not, in honour, leave his curacy, so early as he wished, as Mr. Whimsey had two Churches to serve.

The best substitute that could be obtained, was Mr. Anything, who would read any sermons that might be put into his hands; so that he passed for something, though in fact he was nothing. But he could not be persuaded to read more than one sermon on a Sunday, as he said, he had not been accustomed to double duty.

Mr. Merryman thus finding, that his Church was but ill supplied, was very unwilling to remove from his beloved flock; at least, until the desired aid of Mr. Brightman could be obtained. But being under a sort of promise to go to Brookfield Hall, he reluctantly obeyed, as soon as the recovery of his health would admit. He had not been there above three weeks, before he regained such a considerable degree of strength, so far as it had been exhausted by the fever, that his anxiety to return was more than could be resisted; especially as a letter from Mr. Brightman informed the family, that he could not be released from his present engagements under three months at the soonest.

But still, while this dear man was most confident that he should be able to resume his accustomed labours in a

short space of time; others had their doubts, lest this fever should bring on a pulmonary consumption; and it is well known, that the human frame cannot be subjected to a more fatal though flattering disease.

As the people 'were ill contented with the supply during his absence; so the reader may suppose the uncommon joy that universally prevailed on his return. But still he left Brookfield Hall under the strictest engagements, not to begin with any further service, excepting one short sermon on the Sunday morning; while Dr. Orderly, with his accustomed kindness, was willing that his Curate Mr. Sedate, as far as he could possibly be spared, should assist him in reading the prayers.

The reader may judge what the congregation felt when Mr. Merryman, leaning upon the arm of Mr. Sedate, accompanied with Mrs. Merryman, first entered the Church, like one recently risen from the dead; and when he got into the pulpit, though struck with the amazing alteration which disease had made upon a countenance, once of such vivacity and health, yet how every hand and heart was lifted up in solemn thankfulness to God, that he was still spared to serve them in the administration of the word of life.

His first text was very appropriate, "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every one whom he receiveth." The affectionate spirit in which he addressed his hearers, words can scarcely describe; while he expressed the feelings of his own mind, during the chastisement, how most graciously he had been supported; hoping that this solemn admonition might be a warning to them all; that his zeal might be quickened; and that on the restoration of his strength he might devote himself with greater diligence than ever for their eternal good.

The slow progress he made towards the restoration of his accustomed strength, throughout the following