the same time, 'tis this very association, which makes all you say, so deeply interesting to me," Agnes replied.

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Suppose nurse," interrupted Mrs. Greville, "that instead of talking more now, you were to lend Miss Hope, the interesting manuscript, you once lent to me?"

"I think that will be best, ma'am," and she took it from a drawer, and placed it in Agnes's hand, saying

There, my dear young lady, his own words will give you a better insight into his character, than my poor language can convey. This paper was written by himself, and being found after his death, the executors were going to throw it away as a useless thing, (they saw it was no business matter, you know, miss ;) but I begged them to give it to me, which they did. It is not a history of himself; it is a story of some of those who had interested him in the parish; but no one can read it, without discovering the mind of him who penned it."

"Thank you, thank you, nurse. It will be a treat to read it," said Agnes.

"I think you will be interested in the facts themselves, as well," added nurse. "I have often and often seen the various persons there spoken of." Mrs. Greville and her niece now left the nursery, and the latter ensconced herself in an easy chair in the diningroom, to peruse the manuscript, whilst her aunt sat down to some needle-work.

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CHAPTER XXII.

I AM an old man. Nearly threescore years and ten have passed over my head; time has thinned and silvered my hair, furrowed my cheek and brow, and bent my form; but memory is vigorous, and the incidents I am about to narrate, are as fresh before my mind, as if they had taken place but yesterday. As I sit in my comfortable arm-chair, close to the window of my study, I gaze on the lovely prospect without, the pretty lawn immediately by, the grand and towering height of mountain-pass which bounds the view on either side; for my habitation is situated in a snug valley, surrounded on three sides by precipitous steeps. Further on, the landscape widening, displays a fine agricultural land, and the undulating grounds, belonging to the lord of the manor.

On a spot of rare beauty in this domain, I cast my eyes. I see the grey turrets of an ancient castle, ivy-covered and time-honoured. The sight of this old place brings back to my mind so forcibly, scenes connected with my earlier days, that I could sometimes fancy myself again young in age and feeling. But no, I am in reality the lonely old man, widowed

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and childless! Yet it is not of myself that I am going to write, or of my own personal sufferings : I am harrowing up my feelings, by returning to by-gone days, because I think that a slight sketch of the history of one bright being who crossed my path, may prove instructive to some young reader, as it may induce her to endeavour to do as she did, and live not unto herself, but unto the Lord.

Not far less than fifty years ago, I entered this sweet, peaceful hamlet, as curate in the little church of L, and well do I remember how joyously I undertook my duties. Charmed with the wild beauty of my Welch mountain home; pleased with the sweet Vicarage which I was to inhabit, as the Vicar himself was absent; and delighted with the teachable spirit of most of my parishioners, it seemed like a little heaven on earth, and I valued it the more, as I had just come from the noise and bustle of a large town.

The very day after I arrived, I was honoured by a visit from the squire of the village, the greatest person then there, as the lord of the manor was abroad. He was a most benevolent-looking man, about five-and-thirty years of age, and he welcomed me so kindly, and was so pressing in his invitation, that I should frequently visit the Hall, that my heart quite warmed to him. He said that his lady would have accompanied him, but that she had lately been confined, and was still a prisoner in her room. I agreed to dine with him that day, and he accordingly in

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sisted on my returning with him at once.

This I did, and from that period I date the commencement of a friendship, which only terminated with his life, about ten years back; terminated for a season, only to be matured in a world where there will be no more partings.

Mr. Seymour (for that was the name of my new friend), introduced me to his three elder children, beautiful boys, of four, five, and seven years of age; but the infant, a little girl, was not yet visible. I felt happy and delighted as I sat with the father and listened to his interesting account of how things were progressing in the parish, or gamboled with the dear little ones, who came into the dining-room after dinner.

My predecessor, who had left in consequence of having been presented with a living in Herefordshire, was a truly excellent man, and had been so earnest in his Master's cause, that morality and religion thrived in this sequestered village. It might truly have been styled the 'happy valley,' for God was served there, and no brawls disturbed the reigning harmony. Blessed, peaceful spot! and happy man to have been permitted to spend so many years of tranquillity in it; for, spite of affliction's waves, which will ebb and flow in every corner of this lower earth; I have been happy-happy in the richest sense of the word, for the Lord has ever shed the light of His presence around me, and that light has penetrated even through the thickest clouds of trial.

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About a fortnight after this my first visit, I was requested by Mr. Seymour to christen his infant daughter. I was to call at the Hall previously to going to Church, to be introduced to Mrs. Seymour. It was a lovely summer morning, and I thoroughly enjoyed my picturesque walk up the side of the mountain. At the distance of about a mile, on a sloping bank, and backed by an embowering wood, stood Mr. Seymour's residence. The boys had run down to the lodge to meet me, and gaily conducted me to their mamma, who was seated in the drawing-room.

She was a remarkably pretty young woman, fair, slender, and elegant, with a gentle voice, and graceful manners, and the kind welcome she gave me, told that her heart like her husband's was warm and generous. I kissed the soft round cheek of the lovely babe on her lap; and after a short conversation, it was time to go. I handed Mrs. Seymour into the carriage, nurse and baby followed, and little George, the youngest of

the trio.

Young as he was, he had been for some Sundays a regular attendant at church, his parents thinking him quite old enough to practise duties; and not too young, but that he might learn something in the house of God. "Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings" the Lord "perfects praise ;" and He often opens a very young mind to understand His will to a great degree.

But to return. I walked down to the church with