justified in discontinuing the use of any of the books which had been employed in the school, and substituting others, yet there could be no harm, as Mr. Flavel said, in adding one or two. In particular he recommended some very nice-looking books of the Religious Tract Society, as rewards to the children; and was even so kind as to present me with a dozen, very neat and pretty, at a halfpenny each.

"They get their things up remarkably well, and cheaply too," said he. "You will perhaps like to have their address for future occasions. It may save you some expense." Of course I took the address, and thanked Mr. Flavel for his kindness: never once reflecting, that if the contents of the volumes were not sound and scriptural, they were not worth even the halfpenny which they cost.

Our intimacy daily increasing, Mr. Flavel most condescendingly ventured (as he said) to request that I would preach a charity-sermon at his church, on the occasion of the Queen's Letter for the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge; an office which I undertook with pleasure, and, I believe, gave satisfaction both to Mr. Flavel and his congregation.

There was one individual, at any rate, who was satisfied with my performance. This was the Rev. Theodosius O'Brien, Mr. Flavel's curate. At the particular request of this gentleman, I called on him at his lodgings before setting off homewards.

"My dear sir," said he, grasping my hand with cordiality, "allow me again to express how much I have felt gratified by your admirable discourse. I do not know any one whom I should be more pleased to see occupying my place in the pulpit."

Mr. O'Brien, it should be observed, was reckoned a crack preacher at Market Ashford, and greatly admired, especially by the unmarried ladies. His sermons furnished an important subject of conversation in a country town, where topics were scarce. And though there was an anti-O'Brien party amongst some of the more staid inhabitants, yet, on the whole, he was looked on as decidedly a very popular man. The condescending expression of his approval, therefore, was very satisfactory. Laudari a laudato viro is certainly a feather in one's cap; and of course I could only express my gratification.

"You will certainly make a capital preacher in time," said my new friend. "But allow me to add," he continued, "that I do not quite like your doctrine."

"How so?" said I, somewhat disappointed, and not quite recognizing his authority to blame, although I had no objection to his praise.

"I'll tell you my notion of the true sort of doctrine. I make it a rule that three parts, at least, of every sermon which I preach shall be on Christ crucified."

"Nay," said I, interrupting him, "St. Paul determined to 'know nothing save Christ, and Him crucified.' I trust that my sermons are not only three parts, but entirely devoted to that all-pervading doctrine. And surely we cannot do better than follow the example of St. Paul himself, and may safely preach on all the topics which he introduces; all of which, he declares, are connected with that which is the centre of his system."

"You do not understand me, sir," said Mr. O'Brien, with the greatest coolness, and all the air of superi

ority which his celebrity at Market Ashford warranted. "The whole Christian scheme lies in a nutshell. You should stick to the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans. If you did not know a word of Scripture besides, that would be enough. I have it all at my finger-ends. First, you know, the corruption of man, Jew and Gentile, all under sin; none righteous, no not one; all our righteousness filthy rags; then salvation, full and free, offered to the worst of sinners, according to the predeterminated counsel of God. This is the plan, sir; stick to this, and you are sure to be right. Down with the sinner, and exalt the Saviour. Besides, sir, I find it very useful, in preaching extempore (which, I observe, sir, you do not do), to have something always to come back to. Sometimes, indeed, I take a ride on the black horse in the Revelations. I did so a Sunday or two ago; and you should have seen how the people pricked up their ears "Better to prick their hearts," thought I. "Have you ever read Dwight ?" said my Irish friend, rather abruptly, after a short pause.

I answered in the negative.

יי!

"What! not read Dwight? If you don't know Dwight, you know nothing. (I felt much flattered by this remark.) Dwight's system of theology contains all that is worth knowing-every subject is treated as it should be. A man who knows Dwight's theology knows enough for a bishop."

Dwight, it should be observed, was a very good man in some respects, but an American dissenter.

Mr. O'Brien then took down one of five wellthumbed volumes, which constituted nearly the whole of his library, and begged that I would take it with

me to read. "I cannot let you have the others until you have done with that, as I am wanting them every day."

I promised to read the volume as soon as I could make opportunity.

"And do you find," I asked, thinking that my new friend might assist me in my difficulties-" do you find that the people who attend your preachingsthe people of Market Ashford, I mean-lead godly lives, and avoid that tittle-tattle and jealousy for which country towns so generally have the credit ?"

"I am sorry to say (but you must not tell them who said it) that there is not a more gossipping, tale-bearing, quarrelsome set in England than the people of this town. There is scarcely one of those who praise me most to my face in whom I can place the slightest confidence. I can assure you, sir, I am heartily sick, and wish I was well rid of them."

It did not seem to occur to Mr. O'Brien that the condition of his parish in these respects was any test of the benefit of his preaching. His only notion of the use of preaching was to obtain the admiration of a large congregation; and I afterwards heard that his popularity had been somewhat on the decline.

"I will tell you what," said he, looking very mysterious; "I have got a little scheme for you and me. What do you say," he continued, drawing his chair nearer, and speaking in a lower tone, as if he was afraid some one should hear "what do you say to trying your fortune in London ?”

"In what way?" I inquired.

"Why suppose you and I were to go and take a chapel between us ?"

This he said with the greatest earnestness.

I an

swered, that I had not any intention at that time of leaving my present situation.

"Why, how much do you get?" asked Mr. O'Brien.

I stated that I had a good house and fifty pounds a

year.

“Och, a poor fifty pounds a year!" said he, with a sneer; “why, I'd warrant that if you would go with me, we'd make 6007. a piece the first year. I'll tell you what, sir; we'd fill all the pews in a fortnight, and bring the people from all parts of London."

"I should be sorry to draw people away from their own parishes, and interfere with the congregations of other clergymen."

"Other clergymen! I'll tell you what, sir; we'd preach them all out of their pulpits in no time."

As I had no ambition to preach my brother-clergy out of their pulpits, I declined accepting Mr. O'Brien's flattering proposal. Yet it certainly had a little effect on my mind; it made me rather vain of my preaching, and ambitious scenes began to float in my head.

Mr. Theodosius O'Brien was quite in earnest about his scheme; for, not many months afterwards, he packed up his Dwight, and set off for the metropolis, with a view to exercise his functions as a popular preacher for which occupation there is no denying that he had a good deal of talent, being fluent and confident, his voice good, and his person handsome; though it must be confessed he was very scantily furnished with the doctrines of the English Church.