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how you expose yourself to the same hazards, or make it necessary for God, if he would save your soul, to correct you here with some grievous calamity; to stretch you on a sick-bed with racking pain; to compel you, by the terror of approaching death, to submit your diseased limbs to the knife and the saw; and after all to strike you down in the middle of your course by such a blow as makes all the wicked to tremble. This was the appearance of things in your father's case; this is the way in which the people explained it to themselves; this drew them to the funeral, and held them there in a silent reverential awe of the doings of God. Let it not, I beseech you, be thrown away upon yourself, Mr. White; it seems to have made a wholesome impression upon others, and it would be strange if it made none upon you, for whose warning God chiefly intended it."

We were still standing opposite to the grave, and just at this moment the church-clock struck nine. To my ears the sound was solemn enough, clanging away, and breaking the deep silence and repose which reigned amidst the repositories of the dead, and reminding me of the lapse of time which swallows us all up in his devouring gulph. To my companion it was nothing, as it seemed, but the simple measure of the passing hours. He counted the strokes, and, probably unmoved by other considerations, he reckoned only how long he had been there, and how long he had to stay till the dawning day released him.

I prepared to be gone: for I knew that I should be wanted at home; so I said, "Your father neglected the church, Mr. White, and hitherto you have followed his example. Do you expect God's blessing

upon your labours, if you give him no public honour; if you never come where he promises to bestow a peculiar blessing upon those who worship him with the heart; if you never join in any of his sacred ordinances, which are the means by which he conveys his blessing to us?" "You may depend upon seeing me there very soon, Sir," he answered. "I am glad to hear of your good intention," I said: "and you may assure yourself of this, that, whilst you live without a God, it will not bring you any real profit, if you should drive the best trade in the world; whereas, on the other hand, if you serve him faithfully, and repose upon his providence, you will be one of the happiest men alive, although your trade should go to wreck and ruin. Never forget this. It is true as God is true."

Upon this I left him to meditate upon my paradox. To him, in his infant state of religious knowledge and feeling, what I had pronounced confidently was, without doubt, the greatest of paradoxes. However, Sunday after Sunday passed, and I saw him not. I spoke to his mother, whom I found out in her new abode; I spoke to his wife; I met him himself, and upbraided him again and again; he made excuses, and renewed his promises as often; but to this day, two months since his father's death, he has never been to church. Yet he always says, "Next Sunday, Sir, you will certainly see me there; I have made all my arrangements to be able to come next Sunday." No doubt, the service of the church must be peculiarly irksome to one who has not been brought up to it from his youth, and who lies in ignorance and wickedness. He cannot understand what is said there; much less can he feel it.

§ 4. Mrs. Brockbourn's Daughter.

WHILST this intercourse with the White family was in progress, a newspaper first informed me of the trial and acquittal of Jacob Brockbourn, as it had done before of the murder imputed to him. I was anxious to know what he would do with himself; and I soon learnt from John Harwich, that he had returned to the service of his former master. In fact, by the newspaper account, it was the evidence of his master with respect to his sobriety, industry, and regularity in his business, combined with that of Mrs. Martin as to his indulgence towards his wife, and her not complaining of him in her last moments, which preserved him from an untimely and ignominious end. How other circumstances, so strong against him, were got over and disregarded, I cannot tell. "Have you seen him yourself, Harwich ?" I enquired, "Yes, Sir," he answered; "I saw him on the same day that he was tried at night. He came to thank Mrs. Martin for her evidence, which saved him, I believe." "And how did he behave?" I asked. "Oh! he takes on him sadly, Sir," he replied. "He cried that night like a child, Sir; and he is very low every day from morning to night." “I am glad to hear it," I said, " and I should like very much to see him. I might, perhaps, be of use to him, if he would come to me. Could you speak to him for me, Harwich, and tell him my desire ?" "To be sure I

could, Sir," he answered. "Where does he live? I asked. "Oh! he lives, Sir, I understand, at the Three Cranes." "That is a great way," I said, from your house, Harwich; I cannot trouble you to

go so far." "It is nothing for me, Sir," he replied; "I will be sure to go to him, and tell him.”

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Having made this provision for a conversation with the acquitted murderer, for several days I was in constant and anxious expectation of his appearance at the rectory; but no Jacob Brockbourn was nounced to me, to the great disappointment of my whole family as well as myself. At length I called at the Three Cranes in person, and several of my children were with me. This pot-house was kept by a Mrs. Pastor, with whom I had lately established an acquaintance by visiting a sick lodger. It happened that she came from Brockbourn's parish, and had perfectly known both him and his poor wife for many years; which was the reason that she now gave him a shelter in his distress, when others were afraid or ashamed to do it.

When she came to me at the door, "You have got Jacob Brockbourn here for a lodger," I said; "have you not, Mrs. Pastor ?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered," he is here of a truth." "Is he within now?" I asked. "No, Sir," she replied; "he is out at his work. He goes early in the morning, and comes back after work is done in the evening; then he gets his supper, sits a little while, drinks his pint of beer, and goes quietly to bed. He is very sober, Sir, and orderly." "This looks well," I said; "and is he as much depressed in his mind by sorrow, as they tell me that he is?" "It seemed so, Sir," she replied; " and I thought there was no occasion for him to take on him so grievously; so I began to joke him, like, and to make merry with him about it, Sir." "Did you indeed?" I said. "I am sorry for that... A man who has done what he has done should never

"Why, I

be otherwise than in a serious mood." never will believe, Sir," she answered, "that he meant to take her life. And, as to a good beating, she richly deserved it, Sir. I knew her from a child, Sir; and if these children were not here, I could tell you such stories of her; but it would not be right to speak out before these children." In fact, the children were all pressing close round us, and listening with the very utmost attention to catch every word that she uttered. Nothing could exceed their eagerness to know all the history of Jacob Brockbourn; and, now that I am writing it, together with all the transactions which sprung out of it, they snatch the sheets from me, sheet after sheet, and sometimes before the ink is dry. "No, indeed," I said, 66 you must be careful what you tell us. But there is no need to tell any of those bad stories; I can imagine them easily enough." Mrs. Pastor, however, was not satisfied with leaving the business to my imagination; so she drew me gently within the doorway, and put her mouth close to one of my ears, and whispered softly, "Why, Sir, she would do any thing with any ragged fellow, man or boy, for a glass of gin; and, then, Sir, you must guess the consequences. These were the cause of her death, not the bruises on her head. She burst something in her inside, and that killed her. She said so herself, Sir, to some who stood by her, and were pitying her on account of the bloody wounds, which was all that they could see. Ah!' she cried, it is not those; the death-wound is here,' laying her hand on her body."

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Having heard all this, "Pray, Mrs. Pastor," I asked, "how came Jacob Brockbourn to marry a woman with such bad diseases, and such wicked

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