We retired early to rest, and arose with the sun, on the morning of the Sabbath. The trembling voice of the aged servant of Christ mingled with the early stirrings of the morning breeze, and welcomed, in the animated accents of praise, the blessed recollections of holy time. whole air was serene, tranquil and thoughtful. He seated himself again by the door of his cottage, and remained there, musing and conversing at intervals, until we were summoned to the public service.

His

My attention had been so much diverted from myself, and my mind so interested in the conversation and character of this good old man, that I passed through the trial of my opening ministry with far happier feelings than I had anticipated. When the exercise was concluded, he arose in his place, and reminded the church that the emblems of their Master's love awaited them. "Would to God," said he, in his feeble, tremulous voice, while he turned his eyes around upon the congregation; "would to God, that ye were all disposed and ready to partake of them. My infirmities warn

me that this is the last time they will be dispensed by my hand. Ah, why are ye not all waiting to receive them? For more than half a century have I broken this bread here; I then entreated and urged you all

to come and partake. I have warned, and admonished, and pleaded with you, even unto tears. And yet, how many of you suffer me to leave you, and carry up with me, when I go hence, the sad story that you have no mark of gratitude for a Saviour's love, no obedience for a Saviour's dying command. You are willing to oppress my last hours with the bitter thought, that for many of you I have laboured in vain, and though I have loved you here, I may hardly hope to join you again in the eternal communion with the saints. Dear friends, let it not be thus. I stand here to bid you farewell. Who of you is willing it should be eternal ? Who of you would part, never to meet again? I hope and pray for better things. I will hope that, although we have not set down together here, we shall be permitted to do it hereafter. And let me ask of you for this once at least, this

last opportunity, not to leave me but remain, one and all, and witness, though you do not participate. Who can tell how it may please God to manifest himself to you? Who can tell, while we all join our prayers and devotions for the last time, what influence may descend to bless us? Who can tell but our remaining together now, may be the omen that we shall be prepared to meet in a higher state ?"

The effect of this unexpected address, delivered with quivering lips, and the piercing accents of deep and earnest feeling, was irresistible. Not one of the congregation left his place. The minister descended to the table, and an affecting service ensued, whose deep and touching solemnity I have never seen surpassed. Many there were, who, like myself, received impressions that never passed away. And many, I doubt not, will be found at the Supper of the Lamb in heaven, who, but for that hour's holy and overwhelming feeling, had never sat at his table on earth.

CHAPTER X.

spoke with

It will not be thought surprising that by the scene which I described in the last chapter, Mr Carverdale was entirely exhausted. While the excitement of the occasion lasted, he looked and almost the animation of youth. But, when it was over, he sunk down weak, trembling, and nearly fainting. The old cords had been stretched more than they could bear, and lost their tone for ever. When the people had dispersed, he attempted to rise from his seat and follow them, but was unable. Several of his friends advanced to his assistance. "The light is almost burned down," said he, in a voice scarcely audible; "might it only go out here at the altar, how privileged I should be." Some one expressed a hope that it might be yet continued for a season to the benefit of his church. He shook his head.

"No," said he ;" and

why should I wish it? It is only a flickering, fitful flame. It may brighten a moment to-day, but will be dim again to-morrow,

and cheer no one. a vigorous flame,-a light. I am wasted. God soon to remove me to a place among the stars of the firmament, why should I lament, or why should you? For I have that hope; I thank God, I have that hope."

No; my poor flock need burning, and shining And if it please my

This he said with frequent interruptions, showing that his spirit was stirring, though his body was weak. He seemed unable to say more, and was carried in the arms of his friends to his house, and placed in bed. He fell into a sort of sleep, which the physician declared to be the prelude of death, and which he said it would be useless and cruel to disturb by attempting to prolong life. "The machine," said he, " is worn out, and will gradually come to a stop."

He remained in this state, apparently unconscious of what was passing around him, until I was summoned to the afternoon service. In the same state I found him on my return. In the mean time, the report had obtained currency among his parishioners, that their minister was dying. With affectionate concern they crowded around his