that he would breakfast with me, and afterwards accompany me to Ingram's house, whom I was anxious to visit before my departure, that, if possible, I might persuade him to send for a clegyman, and take such steps with regard to his temporal state as might tend to alleviate his present distress.

Accordingly, after breakfast was finished, we took our road in that direction. When we arrived at the house, I rapped gently at the door, and receiving no answer, thought it probable that the poor man was asleep, and opened the door. He was asleep, but it was the sleep that knows no waking!

His wife was kneeling on the floor, with her head hanging over the face of the dead man, her long dark hair had fallen over both of them, almost concealing their countenances from view,—the child, unconscious of its loss, was sleeping on the pillow by its father's side, and all else in the house was just as I had left it on the preceding evening, save that the fire which was then faintly struggling for existence had, like its master's lamp, gone out, and now gave a greater appearance of desolation to the scene. It was indeed a dreary picture, and when I remembered the statements I had heard yesterday, and reflected that the lips that uttered them were now cold, and the soul that dictated them was gone far hence, to give in its account; and that the body before me must one day rise from the grave, and stand before the judgment seat of CHRIST; and that he had died without the opportunity of a holy and spiritual guide, without the reception of the holy sacrament, without strong faith, or firm and humble hope, when I thought of these things, I trembled. The body was buried at the expense of the parish a few days afterwards, and mother and child are now inmates of an union workhouse.

Conclusion.

PRAYERS AT CHURCH AND
PRAYERS AT MEETING.

A woman who had gone to the meeting-house for twelve years was one day taken very dangerously ill, on a journey she was making between Maidstone and London. She was taken to an inn at Bromley, and thinking she should soon die, she wished to see a minister. The landlord told her that there was no minister but the clergyman of the parish. "Well,” said she, "I am a chapeler, but I dont mind having a little talk with him." So the clergyman was sent for, and soon came. The bed-curtains were drawn, and the room darkened. He talked to her a long time, and she was very much comforted, and then he repeated to her, by heart, the 90th psalm, and the whole of the 5th chapter of the second epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians. She then said that she should be so happy if he would kneel by the bed-side and offer up prayers to Gon for her. The clergyman immediately kneeled down and offered up seven prayers for her; and every now and then she said, "Great com-fort! great comfort! Oh my soul, this is great comfort for thee! Wonderful words, wonderful praying!" At last the clergyman took his leave. She lay very ill for three weeks; and, during that time, the same clergyman visited her and prayed by her side eight times. The landlord's wife one day came up to her to say she had heard of a very fine minister," an independent preacher who lived at Eltham. "No," said the sick woman, "I feel I am in good hands; I wish no one else to see me." Before a month had passed she was well enough to go home, and before she left the village she called on the clergyman to tell him how grateful she felt for his kindness, and how happy his beautiful prayers had made her. She said, “Ah! sir, if people could hear such prayers in church, as you

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have offered up in my sad illness, I should not be a chapel goer." The clergyman said, "My good woman, I thank you for your kind way of speaking to me, and I rejoice and am glad to see you looking so well, but I must set you right about church and chapel. Not one word of all the prayers you heard me offer up to the ALMIGHTY while you lay ill in your bed, was out of my own head. I have been for many years very short-sighted; my eyes are very weak, and I cannot use them at dusk or by candle-light without great suffering; and, on this account, I have long since learned by heart all the prayers of the Church service, and of the services for the sick and dying. The seven prayers which gave you so much comfort were all from the office for the visitation of the sick in our prayer-book; and the other prayers were remembered by me as part of our worship; many of them being collects and sentences from the litany and communion or sacrament service. I can in this way pray without being obliged to open a book." The good woman being very much astonished, clasped her hands, and was almost about to cry. He went up to her, and taking her hands in his, said, "You seem to have been ignorant, all these years, of the worth of our prayer-book; ignorant of the perfect beauty of our church worship, and ignorant of the means of comfort which you have had in your power to enjoy in your parish church.” Yes, sir," she answered, "if these, indeed, be the prayers of the Church, GOD forgive me for having neglected and undervalued them. so long. I thought you had been praying out of your own head all the while, and it was this that made me say, 'Wonderful praying!' for I could not help feeling how much better your words were than Mr. Dobbin's, the chapel preacher." "I give you my solemn assurance," said the Bromley clergyman, "that every word you heard from my lips was taken from our book of common prayer." "Then, sir," she said, "from this day I will never again enter a chapel or meeting-house

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of any kind. The prayer-book shall be my guide, and the parish church my house of prayer; for the Church that worships God in such words, and can supply such ministers to use them for a poor sinner's comfort, must be the place where God's honour dwelleth; and till the day of my death I will be glad when men shall say unto me, 'We will go up into the house of the LORD.'

Now, we have learned from an old meetinger how to think, and speak, and act, about church or "meeting," hired preachers or ordained apostolical priests. From Musgrave's Nine and Two, or Sunday School Hours, p. 181.

THE FESTIVAL OF ST. JAMES.

ST. JAMES'S, ENFIELD HIGHWAY. - On the anniversary of the festival of St. James, the celebration of the dedication of the church of St. James, Enfield, was observed there as a public holiday, as was anciently the case throughout the kingdom. The attempt to revive this custom in the same religious spirit in which it formerly originated, deserves especial notice, for puritanism has entirely destroyed the remembrance of such events among us, and for two entire centuries the real village wake has been a thing unknown.

After a public breakfast at the parsonage, the clergy, vested in surplices and stoles, formed into procession, and moved towards the church, headed by a boy in surplice, carrying a square silk banner, displaying a white cross upon a red field. The church was hung with garlands; and numerous banners with religious devices were ranged along the western gallery, amongst which was a very beautiful one of cloth of gold, with the Holy Name upon it in crimson velvet. The altar was solemnly ornamented with its own peculiar plate, the elements for the holy communion being placed

upon the table of prothesis. Service commenced at half-past ten, the rector, the Rev. J. F. Russel, with the Epistler and Gospeller, the Revs. Dunster and J. M. Neale, taking their seats within the rails; the remaining clergy were seated stall wise. The children of the national schools were in the gallery. The prayers were intoned by the curate, the Rev. T. J. Burton, assisted by the choir. The lessons were read from a

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lettern by the Revs. J. Haskoll and R. Belany. services throughout were performed with the most exact propriety. One point of order, which is very much neglected, calls for notice. Before beginning the gospel, the Rev. J. M. Neale crossed the altar to the north side, where a lettern was placed for the purpose. The sermon, unincumbered by collect, and the usual tiresome formalities, was preached by the Rev. Benjamin Webb, of Trinity College, Cambridge. The holy eucharist was afterwards celebrated, the alms being collected by two deacons.

Service being ended, the children of the schools formed into rank in the church-yard, carrying garlands; boys in surplices, bareheaded, carrying crosses and banners; followed by the clergy and a long line of laymen in orderly procession for the school-rooms, about a mile distant. As the procession moved slowly along the road, the Litany was solemnly chanted by priests and people. At this moment, one might have easily supposed that dissent had no existence, that schismatic divisions were things unknown, that the Church was the alone possessor of the soil.

After dining at the rectory, the company returned to the school-rooms, and were addressed by the Rev. J. Russell, and letters read from Lord John Manners and Mr. Hope, expressing their regret that they were unable to attend. The children then sung the following ballad, written for the occasion, by the Rev. J. M. Neale :

:

I.

A song for the times, when the sweet church chimes,
Called rich and poor to pray,