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witnessed one, however thoughtlessly he had lived, who was not then deeply impressed that there is an hereafter, and that he has a strict account to render to the God that made him. Happy indeed are those who are prepared for that last hour!

"It is bootless," said he, "to argue those points. I am proof against conviction; and, as to death, oh, gladly would I lay me down and die! I have tried all the boasted resources of life, and have found their hollowness, their deception. I have plunged madly into what is called pleasure, -it soon palled on my jaded senses. I have tried literature, science, travel; thinking, by a change of scene, to alleviate the unsupportable burthen of existence; but, all, alas! failed. I have tried friendship,was deceived, betrayed.-No matter. I suppose I must still live on, still drag on this hated life. My pride forbids; it would be cowardice to resign it by my own act and deed."

As my time was limited, my first visit soon came to an end. He requested me earnestly to see him again soon, adding, that though we differed on religious grounds, he would have great pleasure in cultivating my acquaintance.

I left him, saddened at heart to perceive so many fine talents, so many noble qualities, buried in the grave of infidelity. For in the heart of the infidel, there are no joys, but such as are like scentless flowers, that one plucks to pieces for sport; no passion, save that which is akin to delirium, or debauchery;no medicine of the soul that is healing, but the damning dose of madness or despair. Aye, though calm and impassible may be the exterior of the infidel, a wounded and withered heart exists within.

But I did not despair of his conversion. I commended him fervently to the infinite mercy of God.

One day, in paying my round of visits to the sick, I unexpectedly encountered him in the garret of a poor Irish tailor, who was slowly recovering from a long illness. The poor fellow had a large family,-all too young to aid him. His wife was near her confinement. He was in arrears for rent. And to increase his troubles, his club, from some slight infringement of their rules, withheld their small weekly contribution.

Mr. H had accidentally heard of his distress, and like the good Samaritan, hastened to relieve it. He had paid the rent; given handsomely for their present support; and, what was better than all, promised him employment when his health was restored. Both husband and wife were thanking him with a grateful burst of feeling, as I entered and prevented his escape. This, however, he soon effected. I then learned from the poor tailor that it was incredible the good he did. That a great part of his large income must be given away in deeds of

unobtrusive charity; and that numbers of aged widows, and other poor persons, whom, by his benevolence, he preserved from the cold charity of the workhouse, were praying for him day and night. I had heard obscurely of the good gentleman who did not wish his name to be known. He was the man.

Several other instances of great generosity-of extreme kindness of heart, came shortly afterwards under my notice, and made me more anxious than ever to attempt his conversion. But every plan, however ingeniously laid, failed most signally. He always maintained a chilling and stern reserve whenever religion was mentioned, and immediately forced the conversation into some other channel. Still, I did not despair.

One morning I paid my visit at the usual hour. The servant informed me that his master was very ill, and could see nobody. I expressed my concern, and asked how long he had been unwell, as it was more than a week since I had seen him.

"Why, sir," said the man, "Master went out last night, quite well, and returned home very bad indeed. He could hardly get out of the cab. And what is worse, sir, he has been walking up and down the library all night, and hasn't been to bed. The housekeeper went to him crying, this morning, and begged him to have advice. But he won't, sir."

A tear was in the poor fellow's eye, which shewed that he had a grateful heart, and had a kind master.

I left my card.

About an hour after I reached home, I received the following note:

"Dear Sir,-By all that you hold sacred, come to me immediately. Yours, F. H."

I went immediately, and found him on the sofa in the greatest distress and anguish of mind. His cousin-Mrs B.—was with him, endeavouring in vain to soothe him. He wrung my hand in silence; gave me one piercing glance with his bloodshot eyes, and burst into tears. I was little less agitated myself to see that powerful mind so prostrated.

"Do not," he gasped, "Do not speak to me yet, or I shall die of suffocation. Where is now my boasted philosophy! it is humbled in the dust.”

He was silent for some minutes, and then rallied.

"I am ashamed, sir, for you to witness such emotion, which you may deem unmanly; but when you know the cause, you will hardly blame me. Be seated, sir, and listen as patiently as you can to the tale of a heart-broken man. I also need your service in a work of charity, which must plead my apology for your hasty summons. It is necessary to give you a sketch of my previous life, that you may understand my present position.

"It is now twenty years since I entered Eton; and, to my entrance there do I owe much of my after unhappiness. I soon contracted a warm friendship with young C――, who was the pride of the school. He was three forms above me, and I was four years his junior. He was very athletic, finely formed; was our best cricketer, pulled the stroke oar in all our matches, and was the terror of all the bargemen in the neighbourhood. We were inseparable until he went to Oxford. I, also, in the course of time, joined him at Christ Church. He was there, also, a universal favourite, and we recommenced a warm, and what proved to me, a fatal friendship. Young as he was, he was already a confirmed free-thinker, and spared neither pains nor time in innoculating his associates with his opinions. I long held out, firm against every attack; and argued, as I thought, successfully, against every withering sarcasm which he freely quoted from Hobbes and Voltaire. I had been bred a strict Protestant, and member of the Church of England, and I well knew the pain it would give my mother to hear that her son had become an infidel.

"Finding mere argument inoperative, he tried the seductive arts of pleasure. Here, alas, he fatally succeeded. I look back now with bitter regret, to the calm and innocent days of my youth, when I was obedient to a mother's kind and affectionate warnings. Then, religion, though I now know it to be a fallacy, -a delusion,-gave me unspeakable happiness. But regret is idle. At first I stood, like a timid bather, on the brink of corruption, but soon plunged madly in. Drink and debauchery consumed my nights; my days passed in languid feverish exhaustion, only to be alleviated by the same infernal round of nightly excess. At length, after a long career of suicidal excess, I was laid up; human nature could stand no more. Delirium tremens laid its gaunt and spectral hand on my fevered brain. A powerful constitution pulled me through, but for weeks I was helpless as a child. Never shall I forget the mental horrors I endured in my slow recovery. The fear of future punishments haunted me day and night. I felt a miserable, anguished regret at my past consummate folly, and I made many vows of amendment.

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"I was laid up during the long vacation, no one came near me but my scout and the doctor, and I had time for reflection. Term time came, and with it the fast men, my former associates in guilt. Among these, the first who visited me was C. I was glad enough to see him, as I felt so lonely and miserable. I told him the horrors I endured, and that nothing could tempt me to retrace my former steps. He laughed gaily at my fears, derided with the keenest irony what he called the bug-bears of

a weakened brain, and told me when I got on my legs, I would laugh at them as he did.

"By the bye, old fellow,' said he, 'seriously-I would advise you to pull in a little for the present: no constitution could stand the wear and tear you have given yours. I am reckoned a tolerable fast man myself, but you beat me hollow.'

"Well sir, I recovered, and though I lived freely, was tolerably careful of my health. But my good resolutions had long since gone to the winds. As I fell deeper into systematic vice, every early religious impression so tenderly fostered by my kind mother, gradually faded from my mind. The idea of an hereafter became so hateful to me, that I sought with frantic eagerness to dispel every lingering faith on the subject. My Mentor in evil was soon perfectly successful in making me one like himself. He was the president of a free-thinking club, and I was enrolled as an associate. We met at each others rooms every week, and little did the orthodox dons dream of the nest of hornets they were fostering in the bosom of old Oxford.

"I felt more tranquil now. I had neither fear nor hope to disturb or agitate my mind. The present was my only life, and I resolved to enjoy it to the utmost. I soon got disgusted with my former coarse and revolting debaucheries, and became an epicurean in my tastes and enjoyments. It was then that I devoted myself with passionate enthusiasm to music, for which I had always a great fondness. On leaving Oxford I travelled for three years with C- for my companion. We did not confine ourselves to the usual route of travellers, but ransacked the treasures of the East.

"On my return to England I shortly after married. For a while I was intoxicated with happiness. My wife was exquisitely beautiful, and we were devotedly fond of each other. Our tastes too harmonized. I must now tell you, sir, that I then made what I consider the greatest, foulest mistake of my life. My wife was a Catholic, I allowed her at first the free exercise of her religion, and was careful never to express a doubt, never to utter a word against Christianity in her presence. But when we had been married about a year, an irrepressible desire tempted me to shake her trust in religion and in her God. In this, what I now think an infernal scheme, I was zealously aided by C. Our plan of operations was laid-was followed out with exquisite tact. Like the constant dropping of water on stone, an impression was slowly but surely made. She began to be indifferent, then to neglect her religion altogether. So far we succeeded, but no further. We found a woman's heart, a woman's imagination and peculiar susceptibility to religion, a more difficult thing to manage, than we ex

pected. We could not make her a free-thinker, but we soon made her restless and unhappy. I began even to think that her affections to myself were changed. The thought was insupportable-was madness. C was our constant visitor. Under a fatal delusion, I firmly believed him to be a true friend. One day I received a letter from Devonshire, announcing the sudden illness and expected death of my uncle Sir J-D-. He was an old officer, knighted for his bravery, and tenderly attached to me. The letter was written by his medical man, and urged me to start immediately if I wished to find my uncle alive. I was reading the letter to my wife when C- entered the room. I told him its contents.

"Go, my dear fellow,' said he, 'you have no time to lose; and I hope, before you return, Mrs. H- will have recovered her good looks.'

"She had been suffering slightly from indisposition.

"I rang the bell, told my valet to pack up, and order post horses to be ready in an hour.

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I had a short interview with C His heart seemed full of the deepest mine.

6

in my dressing room. friendship to me and

"I am afraid,' said he, Mrs. H- has been moped too much lately, she seems to have lost all her buoyant spirits. Pray write to her often-and write kindly. If I can be of any service to her during your absence, which I hope will not be long, you know you may command me. I am an idle man.'

"I thanked him warmly, begged him to look in as often as he could, and to use an old friend's privilege during my absence. My parting with my wife was painful. We had never yet been separated. She clung to me, embraced me again and again, and burst into tears when I bade her farewell. I never loved her so fervently as I did at that moment, and could have died willingly to have done her the slightest service. I travelled all night as fast as four fleet horses could whirl me along. On my arrival at my uncle's seat the next afternoon, I found to my great joy that he had unexpectedly rallied, and though extremely weak, no immediate danger was apprehended. My interview with him, after he had been prepared for my reception, was full of tenderness and affection. The fine old man was propped up with pillows; his white hair floated on his shoulders; his face, pale and emaciated from severe illness, but lit up with a feeling of happiness and reverent submission; his dark intellectual eye gleamed with delight, when, pressing both my hands in his thin and wasted ones, he told me how glad-how exceeding glad he was to see me.