vanced to the leading-horses. I know no more, and can recall nothing else than a violent crash, and a confused noise; after which I lost all recollection.

"A variety of confused and miserable fancies now successively followed this awful moment-ideas of pain, horror, and anguish, I found myself lying on a bed in a place I did not know, where I saw strangers moving about me; and methought these people occasionally put me to dreadful pain.

"Amid these dark scenes, the knowledge I possessed of religion seemed to minister only to my misery: and indistinct views of death and hell, and an offended God, were presented to my mind.

"At length I was blessed with a long and refreshing sleep; from which I awoke to a clearer view of my situation. I found myself lying in a neat old-fashioned bed-room, the window of which was Gothic, and in part shaded with an eglantine in flower. A narrow chimneypiece and small grate were in one corner of the room; the grate was ornamented with Dutch tiles, and a few antiquated chimney-ornaments of glass were arranged on the mantlepiece. The room was hung with an old-fashioned paper, made to resemble cut-velvet; and by my bedside stood an old lady in black, with a close mob-cap and shawl. She was not looking at me when I opened my eyes, but was speaking in a low tone to a young man who stood with his back toward me, whose tall and graceful figure immediately suggested the idea of Theophilus. I spoke; but do not recollect what I said: on which they both turned to me, when I exclaimed, Oh! Theophilus! He instantly hastened to the head of the bed, and calling me by my name, I repeated, 'Oh! Theophilus!' and, bursting into tears, again lost my recollection.

As it was some time after this before I could distinctly comprehend my situation, I shall not wait to develope it gradually to my reader as it was unfolded to myself, but state it immediately, in order to prevent confusion.

"The house into which I had been conveyed when thrown from the carriage, and where I happened to be at the moment of losing my recollection, had been oc

cupied for several months by Mrs. Townsend, the aunt of Mr. Barret, the old lady whom Theophilus had mentioned to me at Cheltenham.

"Theophilus had purposed to pay her a visit at Christmas, but, from a motive which the reader may easily imagine, having hastened his visit some weeks, he had actually arrived that very morning: but finding the town in confusion by reason of the races, he thought it better to defer calling upon me till the bustle should be

over.

"It was Theophilus whom I had seen springing over the hedge to seize the heads of the horses, who where about to plunge themselves into a deep ravine on the side of the road, but arriving too late, nothing remained for him to do but to raise me from the ground and carry me into the house; where being laid on a bed, it was soon found that I had received such an injury on the head as left only a very slender probability of my recovery. The carriage was dashed to pieces, and Sir Timothy himself carried home with a broken arm.

"From that time, which was many days, I had remained with Mrs. Townsend; my aunt and cousins having only occasionally visited me, while the tender Theophilus watched me with the most anxious care, being now chiefly solicitous that I might be spared to see the error of my way, and be brought to a knowledge of my sin, and my need of a Saviour. Having thus stated the case, I return to my own feelings.

"After the occasion I have spoken of, on which I seemed for a moment to recover my recollection, and had recognised Theophilus, I became delirious again, and remained for a long time incapable of distinguishing the distressing imaginations of my disordered brain from the realities which surrounded me. During this period, I have some idea of seeing Theophilus by me at times, and hearing him address me: but his voice appeared to me mournful and hollow, and his face altered and deathlike. I also had confused recollections of past times, particularly of the very early days of my youth, of my visit to my grandfather, and the places where I used to play with Theophilus; and, as I was afterward told, I spoke of these days, and of things which then took place, in a

manner well understood by the companion of those innocent pleasures. Through this whole interval I was consumed by a dreadful fever, which nothing could mitigate, accompanied with a violent thirst, which nothing could allay.

"Many months passed in this way, during which time I was most tenderly nursed by Mrs. Townsend; Theophilus remaining nearly the whole time at her house, and visiting me many times in the day.

"At length the season arrived, though I knew it not, when it was necessary for him to return to his duty abroad.

"I still recollect, amid the dark and hopeless scenes of delirium and mental disorder, the last time that I was visited by Theophilus. He came to my bedside, with Mrs. Townsend, and I remember that he stood looking at me with folded arms, and an expresssion of deep sorrow. Then turning to the window, his eyes being full of tears, 'Oh! Mrs. Townsend,' he said, 'for my sake, never, never, abandon her!' I cannot recall her answer, for I remember nothing connectedly at that time; but I recollect his coming again to my bedside, and looking earnestly at me, whereupon I closed my eyes, having, like most persons in my situation, a dread of being looked at and then probably supposing I was asleep, or thinking I should not understand what was passing, " Farewell, beloved Jenetta,' he said, 'you have indeed destroyed all my earthly prospects; but it was perhaps right that I should meet with this painful disappointment. I now return to my post: may the Lord assist me to do my duty there! Mrs. Townsend, you will never forsake her: I heard no more; and from that time I never saw Theophilus.

"Several years passed before I recovered the injury done to my head, and before I was able to leave my room, or even to reflect and converse without a mixture of derangement. During this period, I was reduced by suffering to a mere shadow; my bloom was gone; I was in constitution become an old woman; my earthly hopes were blasted; and nothing remained for me to desire but always to live with Mrs. Townsend, for whom I had acquired a very tender affection.

"My aunt and cousins had paid so little attention to me during my illness, that I was quite weaned from them; and I dreaded to see Sir Timothy, or any of those who had known me in former days. I therefore gladly left the country with Mrs. Townsend, about two years after my accident, who established herself in a retired situation in Berkshire, where I have resided ever since.

CC Many years are now past, since that awful event which put so sudden an end to my mad career of sin. Since then I have suffered much from bodily disease and mental languor, which prevent my making any peculiar exertion. In this interval I have heard of the death of Theophilus, who lived and died for the glorious cause to which, under divine influence, he had most unreservedly devoted himself; I have lost my kind friend Mrs. Townsend; and am now left alone in the world, feeble in body, and weak in mind: nevertheless, I am more happy than I was in the heyday of health and beauty; for my religion, which was once that of the head and of the lips, is now, by the divine blessing, become a religion of the heart. By the dreadful failure of which I had been guilty, I was emptied of self and brought to see that I was nothing-to see that all my righteousness in former days had been but as filthy rags. I was taught to discover that no confidence was to be placed in any effort I could make to help myself, inasmuch as I had no ability even to control and direct my own thoughts, much less to guide my actions. I was even brought to see, that at the very period of my life when I held the fairest character for piety, I was no better than an infidel; neither possessing that love, nor that fear of God, which could influence my conduct in the smallest degree. Thus, being brought to a conviction of unbelief, I was next induced to cry for help, though I could say little more than 'Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.' I now began to comprehend something of that doctrine, concerning which I had formerly heard so much, viz. that every man in his natural state, before the grace of God and inspiration of the Holy Spirit, has no faith; that all are shut up in unbelief, and that when the Holy Spirit effectually awakens any individual, he first convinces him of sin, and especially of the sin of unbelief.

"I remained a long while mourning and lamenting my want of faith, and counting myself an undone creature: but at length being enabled to throw myself entirely on the mercy of God, I soon was disposed to receive salvation with gladness, as a free gift, unmerited by me, and as a favour which the Lord might have withheld from me without injustice. In proportion as these blessed views prevailed, I found relief and comfort: my understanding seemed to be enlarged, while my conscience was at once enlightened and relieved. My heart was now engaged in the great business of religion-for with the heart man believeth unto righteousness. (Rom. x. 10.) It was made manifest to me, that a vital union between Christ and my soul had taken place; and under this assurance I was enabled to cry out with joy, 'My beloved is mine, and I am his.'

"And now, in measure as my mind became enlightened on these subjects, peace and joy filled my heart; insomuch that I could bless God for all I had suffered, and especially for that overwhelming event by which I had suddenly been stopped short in my career of sin. I now could think even of Theophilus with resignation, yea, and praise my God for all that he was doing among the poor heathen in distant lands. It is true, that some natural tears would fall whenever I reflected upon the circumstances by which our separation had been brought about, and as often as I thought of the acknowledgment which he had made to Mrs. Townsend of his long cherished affection for me, so cruelly disappointed by my folly, for we were to meet no more on earth.

"Seven years are now passed since my Theophilus entered into glory. A traveller told me that he had once seen his grave. It stands alone; no other grave of a Christian brother being near to it. It is situated at the foot of a palm tree, far, far from those who knew him in his early days, and who will never cease to think of him with affection. But the humble and poor people whom he made acquainted with their Redeemer, still, no doubt, show his cold resting-place to their children, and treasure up in their hearts the glorious doctrines which he inculcated among them; since it may truly be said,