tians, many years ago, built and endowed a chapel close to their own doors, placed very prettily in a kind of park at the foot of the rising ground, on which the Elizabethan mansion stands; it is a quiet though not a retired place of worship, and must strike the passing traveller, for its little unpretending tower is shaded by a beautiful back-ground of some fine old trees, forming, as an approach to it, and from their tops meeting together, no bad resemblance to the long-drawn gothic aisle of a venerable cathedral. This worthy clergyman had been the minister of it for all but forty years, and though, strictly speaking, he had nothing to do with the parochial duties of the place, yet the three incumbents of the parishes were glad to put their respective parishioners under his spiritual guidance; and I am sure, whilst I lived amongst them, he discharged the duties intrusted to him as if he had been their own appointed pastor. I scarcely know what feature in the character of this excellent clergyman to fix on, to bring him, as he should be brought forward, to your readers, but I think it may best be summed up as a whole in this short compass of a sincere and singleminded minister. I know not that he was eloquent (as the world would call it) in the pulpit, but he was what was infinitely better (nay, to which all human eloquence is but "as the sounding brass or tinkling cymbal"), he was earnest and "serious in a serious cause," and well understood "the weighty terms that he had taken in charge." He had just completed what he had long wished to accomplish-the enlargement of his chapel, of which expense, I have but little doubt, he bore no inconsiderable part himself; however, he felt that it was in a good cause, and that it was not money expended in vain. He had of earthly comforts no small share-an affectionate and amiable daughter, and a sufficient income; but alas! one of these blessings-the amiable daughter, was, to the bitter grief of her parents, snatched away "long before her hour, almost from the first blossomfrom the buds of joy," which threw a sad cloud over their midway course of life, but which afterwards subsided into a quiet resignation to the inscrutable decrees of an

all-wise Providence; but not depriving them from enjoying the society of a large circle of long-proved friends, and, I need not add, that to this circle of friends the doors of their hospitable mansion were always widely open; and that their purse, too, was as widely open to administer to the wants of their poorer neighbours; in short, both rich and poor respected him while living, and lamented him when dead; and as an outward mark of this respect, on the day of his funeral, the shops of the village were generally shut up, and on the Sunday afterwards most of the congregation appeared in mourning in the chapel; and those who could not put it on, had that within which passeth show. Such, Mr. EDITOR, are the short and simple annals of this worthy pastor. I said at

the first that I could not seize on any striking feature in his character to bring forward, but I now recollect that there are some beautiful lines of our own Christian poet Cowper, applicable to him, with which, I think, I cannot do better than conclude:

"I would express him simple, grave, sincere ;
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain,
And plain in manner, decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture; much impress'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men.
Behold the picture! Is it like ?"

And I may safely answer, that I really and truly believe that it is like this excellent man.

I remain, Mr. EDITOR,

A Lay Member of, and a Well-wisher to, the
Church of England.

THE FOUNTAIN OF SILOAM.

SILOAM is a fountain under the walls of Jerusalem on the east, in the valley of Jehoshaphat, between the city and the brook Kidron. It is no doubt the same as Enrogel, or the fuller's fountain'. There are two basins; the pool of Siloam, of which we read in John ix. 7, and beyond it the fountain of Siloam, connected by an underground conduit. The former is supplied by the latter. And have these waters flowed on ever since the day, when Jesus said to the blind man (having anointed his eyes with clay), "Go wash in the pool of Siloam?" Have they been instrumental to the wonder-working power of the "Son of Man?" O! delightful reality to be assured of, when seeking the stream at its fountain. Passing the village of Siloam, overhanging the valley on the right, we reached the fountain. It is at the bottom of a deep cavern, partly artificial, as I conjecture, and approached by two flights of steps, formed in the rock itself, worn almost dangerously smooth by frequent use. We found many Arabs, men and women, busily employed in drawing up water in skins, standing up to their knees in the fountain; sheep, camels, and other cattle from Siloam, were waiting around to receive their portion. We descended, but were prevented tasting those waters "that go softly," by reason of the defilement which the Arab employment occasioned. But it is something to have been thus permitted to gaze on them.

From "A Pastor's Memorial of the Holy Land."

By Rev. J. FISK.

Is any among you afflicted? let him pray. Is any merry? let him sing psalms."-James v. 13.

WHEN the heart of the Christian, with sorrow opprest,

Finds no respite from anguish, no season of rest;
When the troubles and cares which attend upon life
Fill his spirit with sadness, and hard is the strife;
If then he appeal to the mercy of God,
His cry will ascend to his Father's abode,
His soul will be freed from the depths of despair,
And sweet consolation attend on his prayer.
When the mercies of heaven illumine his path,
And peace and prosperity smile on his hearth;

1 Joshua xv. 7, xviii. 16. 2 Sam. xvii. 17. 1 Kings i. 9. VOL. XXIV.

When blessings surround him-renewed with the day;
When his heart lightly beats, and his spirit is gay;
Then let him address, as in reason he should,
All honour and power to the Giver of Good,
And in hymns of rejoicing his voice let him raise
To the Throne of his God in thanksgivings and praise.
For in joy and in sorrow, whichever befall,
He should look to the Lord as the Ruler of all;
Acknowledge his power, rely on his love;
By faith and obedience his gratitude prove;
And then will the Spirit of Peace in his heart
Take up its abode, never more to depart,

Till it guide the freed soul through the regions of air, The bliss of the saints and their glory to share. J. J. B. PATIENCE AND PERSEVERANCE IN TEACHING REWARDED.

SIR,-I think that an instance of patience and perseverance in Sunday School teaching may not be uninteresting to your readers, especially those who are Sunday School teachers, and may be an inducement to persevere in cases which they may at first think almost hopeless.

Ellen L, of T. A. Sunday School, is the instance which I allude to. She is the youngest of a family of six, two of whom are decidedly idiots, another very much wanting in intellect. The father and mother are both very defective in intellect. When Ellen was first admitted into the Sunday School, she seemed a most unpromising scholar, with a most vacant idiotic countenance, For the first four years she did not know one letter from another, and seemed so utterly hopeless, that I said to the Teacher I was afraid Ellen never would learn, and that she had better not come to school. In reply to this the Teacher said, she should like to try a little longer. By patience and perservance she finally was taught her letters; and now she can read her Bible very well, find her places in the Prayer Book at Church, and writes a very tolerable hand. She has now been in the Sunday School nine years. In the day school she has been two years, where she has learnt to write. Ellen has always been very regular at school, not missing school even in the most inclement days of winter, when few children ventured from home. With such an instance of triumph over apparently insurmountable obstacles, let no Sunday School teacher despair.

I am your's, &c. F. H. S. M.