He owns me for His child, He joined the Baptist church. After a while the preacher before referred to left the village, and this led to our friend becoming unsettled. He was then met with by another Christian worker, who had originated a Gospel Temperance cause, which cause he joined and laboured in connection therewith. From it there sprang some mission services, and eventually a church was established, there being none in the village prepared to welcome the converts that came from the Total Abstinence Society. This fact may appear strange to some readers, but such was the case even in this Gospel Temperance and evangelistic mission age. At length a correspondence took place between the friends and the ministers in the Torquay Circuit, which resulted in the establishment of a society, which still forms a part of the Torquay Circuit. In these mission services and in our society there the subject of this sketch took a great interest; and became a prominent and earnest worker, especially in the musical department, for which he had a natural talent. Able to play the harmonium with great efficiency, and possessing excellent singing powers, he led the choir right well, to which may be attributed in an important degree the success of the mission and work. The talents which he possessed he used to the honour and glory of God in the promotion of any good work. On moving from the room into an iron church which was purchased, he became the chapel steward, which office he held at the time of his death. For a while also he filled the office of secretary to the Sunday School, which is in a healthy condition. As he had a serious illness in the winter of 1884, which lasted several months, he went to Moretonhampstead for change of air. His faith in God and general Christian character rapidly developed amid these circumstances, and letters to friends written during this period show how deeply the love of Christ was rooted in him. Plans for extending the cause of God occupied much of his time and attention. From that illness, however, he never fully recovered; but no serious apprehensions were realised. In July last, while following his occupation as a painter, exposure to the sun brought on inflammation of the brain, rendering him speedily unconscious. His illness was of short duration, but his utterances in temporary gleams of consciousness showed that he considered death was fast approaching, and that for him it had no terrors. He was calmly reposing on Jesus. The writer of this notice saw him once when for some little time consciousness was granted to him, when it was clear that he was perfectly happy. When he repeated "Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His-" "What next?" he was asked. "Gentle breast," he answered. Further interrogations followed, and bystanders learned how sweetly precious the Saviour was to him, and how intensely happy he was in the prospect of death. He suffered much, but on August 4th, 1885, there was ministered unto him the abundant entrance into God's kingdom above. He was buried on Saturday, August 8th, by the pastor of the circuit, the Rev. J. Tremelling. A large concourse of friends attended the funeral. On the evening of the following day the Rev. J. Tremelling preached a funeral sermon to a crowded congregation. On the Monday, in connection with the temperance cause referred to, a memorial service was held, conducted by the writer. "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours and their works do follow them." JNO. F. HAWKINS. MRS. ELIZA PENROSE, LATE of St. Buryan in the St. Just Circuit, died on Sunday, Aug. 23rd, 1885, at the residence of her son, Zion Chapel House, Somerton. For many years she was a member of the Wesleyan Society, and for the past fourteen years has been united with us. Like Lydia, she said unto the servants of the Lord, "If ye have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come into my house and abide there." And like Phoebe, "She hath been a succourer of many." And the Master says, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." W. T. PENRose. HIGHWAYS AND BY-WAYS OF THE CONNEXION. UR last chapter ended with the death of Abel, who was a very distant relative of him who was a keeper of the sheep. and who offered to God a more excellent sacrifice than Cain. Recently on our way to preach once more in the little chapel Ford, we passed near the cottage where Abel breathed his last, and when at we felt very happy as we at the "Stood tip-toe upon (not) a little hill, The air was cooling, and so very still, That the sweet buds, which, with a modest pride, Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside, Their scanty-leaved and finely tapering stems, Had not yet lost their starry diadems We found the thatched cottages of the village, the farm homesteads and surroundings, much the same as in days of yore. We congratulated our old friend the blacksmith that the Squire had honoured him with a new workshop. The old one was the worst specimen of decrepitude, discomfort, and decay that we ever saw. At times you would hardly know whether the smith was within, were it not for the roar of his bellows, and the sound of his anvil. "The smoke of his torment did not always ascend." he did herculean work at the forge, was the rural dentist, and on Sundays in the school taught the young ideas how to shoot. Farmer A- one of the founders and liberal supporters of the little chapel, was with us, though much enfeebled by age, his limbs stiffened and tortured by rheumatism. He was not the only aged and afflicted Christian that we gripped by the hand, who earnestly desired "to be clothed upon with our house which is in heaven.' We missed the village tailor and mercer of Yarn—. "Gathered home." The days of the years of his pilgrimage far exceeded fourscore years. He was a grand old man, and showed us no little kindness. Our epigraph of him is, "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace." The late Rev. W. Clarke, was born not far from the Ford, and it was in the little chapel that he graduated to the full work of the Bible Christian ministry. "As it was in the beginning, is now, and shall be" with the old farm house at Nole (a curiosity for an artist), with its large bedrooms, oak floors, which, being well rubbed with bees-wax, are always clean and slippery. Under its roof a family reside, deeply interested in the welfare of our Denomination. We were there when farmer T was eagerly "looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." He was well stricken in years, blind, and for a considerable time confined to his bed. Though the natural vision was darkened, he could see a "world of spirits bright," and received an abundant entrance in through the gates of the heavenly city. We were with his brother at the Ford when he entered the valley of the shadow of death, fearing no evil, though the pain of dying was longer and sharper than we have witnessed in others. It was a surprise and a joy to us when at the last London Conference, to be entertained at Kilburn by a family from these "By ways of the Connexion," and to find that Mrs. B was the daughter of him whom we saw die at the Ford. The interior of the little chapel presented one or two improvements. The box pulpit in which we felt cramped sometimes had disappeared, and in its place stood a small and plain rostrum, and there was a pipe-stove to keep the place warm and dry in winter. The condemnation of the pulpit was on this wise. Pastor Lwas preaching one Sunday night with unusual warmth and physical energy, denouncing sin, and reminding the ungodly that they would sink into the abyss below, unless they were converted, when lo, all of a sudden he disappeared through the floor of the pulpit. The congregation was more amused than frightened, and soon the preacher's shining crown appeared above the boarding of the sacred desk. The village blacksmith who was the fixer and stoker of the chapel stove, at first fixed it so near the rostrum that it singed the wood, and the preacher was unable to go through with the service. There should be always warmth in the pulpit-fire even, not strange, stolen, painted fire, but the "Refining fire," thrilling the heart, illuminating the soul. "Come, Holy Ghost, for thee I call, We have had many melting seasons in the little chapel before it could boast of a warming apparatus, and a few since. The best chapel warming we know is earnest ministry, a devotional church, and a full congregation. At B, the rector, churchwardens, and many of the farmers of the parish, at the request of their spiritual adviser, met one night in the vestry, to devise the best means for warming the church. There was great diversity of opinion, but after a long consultation, farmer F stood up and said, "Mr. Parson, Churchwardens, and Fellow Parishioners, I'll tell you the best thing to do to warm up the church." "Well," said the Rector, "we shall be glad to know; and no doubt Mr. F will kindly tell us." "Why, sir, it's this take and send down to the village and have up Jacob Prior, the Bible Christian preacher; he will fill and warm the church for you. I was passing by his little chapel the other week-night and the place was crammed to the door, and many outside wanting to get in, and though it was a cold windy night they were obliged to open every window for ventilation. I propose we have up Prior to warm the church." The meeting was adjourned sine die. We must not linger in these by-ways and "buried paths, where sleepy twilight dreams The summer time away," but we push on up the hill that's long, narrow, rough, and steep to climb, and more difficult to descend in the dark, especially should the pedestrian have more than a normal tendency to obesity. This is a very shaky hill, and has given pain to man and beast. We could say much in praise of the Lodge chapel and of the Afamily that lived so long and so well at the Barton. We are sorry no memoir of Mrs. A- has appeared in our Magazine. She was a queenly, motherly woman, the very essence of kindness and generosity, and so considerate to the poor. The savour of her good name is as precious ointment poured forth. "The memory of the just is blessed." The Lodge chapel was the spiritual birthplace of the late Rev. J. Smallridge, who entered our ministry in 1865, and died almost suddenly at Barrow, January 20th, 1882, with the sweet words on his lips: "Precious Jesus-victory, victory." Our small country chapels have furnished us with many recruits who have endured hardness and proved themselves "good soldiers of Jesus Christ." The way to H-cott Chapel is through long, narrow, deep, and winding lanes, which in winter nights have puzzled and muddled many a preacher. It is a pleasure to know the present chapel is fairly attended and well supported. The old one was made out of an old cob-wall thatched cottage, the top floor of another being used as a gallery. We witnessed here one Sunday evening what we have witnessed nowhere else. The whole congregation, numbering forty-five or fifty, all fell on their knees while we were preaching; fourteen professed to find peace, and many went away weary and heavy laden. The little Society here has seen many ups and downs, and many of its converts have been drawn away to build up other societies. Some of the converts are taking a prominent position in Methodist and other churches of America. Mrs. was a good woman and a liberal supporter of our little Zion, and often expressed her love for God's house by saying she should like to die in the little chapel. She dropped suddenly one Sunday night while entering the chapel, and died without a lingering sigh or groan on the threshold of the house of God. Her sudden death, and the hasty and silly marriage of her husband made many sad; the hard earnings and savings of many years were soon wasted, and the old man's sun went down under a cloud. We know of no prescribed time persons should remain widows or widowers; but surely a year or two ought to intervene, and then all other matters should be duly and prayerfully considered. A sorrowing husband at gave us a golden fee for performing the burial service over his dear departed wife; but we were |