found another alehouse nearer at hand, not so disreputable as the Bull, nor frequented by men of such dangerous principles: where, however, it was equally possible for him to indulge his former habits of drunkenness. To these he had by little and little returned; his pale countenance marked the gradual decay of his health in consequence; and, in fact, the old disorder was now revived, and raging with violence, had confined him to his bed. Margaret, meanwhilewhether her constitution was now no longer stout enough to endure the usual fatigue and exposure to the night air and cold; or whether she drank more gin than before to support her failing strength, was breaking apace, compelled to relinquish the markets, and herself laid up in the same sick-chamber with her husband. In this situation my curate visited them, having been previously informed by me of all the remarkable features of the case.

But, to be short.-He found them both humble and penitent; he administered the Sacrament to them at their own desire; they recovered; that is, not to their former vigorous health, but to the power of pursuing their business, although with diminished activity, and with constitutions manifestly broken; they came again to church; and thus, once more, as there was no extraordinary difficulties now to be encountered and to intercept their course, there was a fairer prospect than ever that they might fulfil all my wishes. I marked their conduct, therefore, with an attentive eye; I spoke kindly to them, whenever I met them; I encouraged and exhorted them to persevere; but still they did not ratify their vows at the altar of their Lord and Saviour; this last important step was still to be taken, and, if intended, was still unaccountably delayed.

One afternoon, passing by their door at an hour when their work was generally at an end, I saw them both within; and thinking that I might wait, perhaps, for a long time before another so favourable opportunity presented itself, I went in; and a chair being offered me, I sat down at once. The shyness and uneasiness which this visit might have been likely to create in them, was partly done away by my having often already spoken to them on the roads; and I endeavoured to expel what remained, by beginning my conversation with them in the following manner. They were standing to do me honour; so I said courteously, "Sit down, my good friends; and, if you are at leisure, we will have a little talk together, as we used to have formerly; but not a word must be uttered about former things. They are past and gone; we should lose time in reverting to them; and our chief concern is with the present circumstances. I bear no ill-will towards you whatever, and I am very desirous to help you if I can. Sit down, I beg of you."

At first they hesitated to take their seats; but, at length encouraged by my apparent kindness, and especially by my offer to bury all ancient grievances in oblivion, they sat down, and thanked me with much seeming cordiality; still, however, there was a cloud upon their brows; a sort of unpleasant apprehension as to the subjects which I might be about to discuss with them. I was determined, therefore, to let them know the worst at once, and I said, "My main business with you, good people, is to ask you whether you do not intend to take the Sacrament in the church at the next celebration of it." The husband was silent, and I concluded that

the difficulty was still with the wife. This woman perplexes me, I thought with myself. Is it an extraordinary awe and reverence for the Sacrament which keeps her from it; or slight and contempt of it; or carelessness and indifference? She would have persuaded me, if she could, that the first was her reason; for being aware that it was necessary for her to say something, she asked me, with much apparent humility and earnestness, whether I did not think, that a due reverence and awe of the thing might, unhappily, be diminished by a too frequent repetition of it. "Mrs. Turner," I answered, " you assume a fact not proved, that there may be a too frequent repetition of the Sacrament. There may be a frequent repetition of the Sacrament, undoubtedly; but that there may be a too frequent one, is not so clear; or, perhaps, if rightly considered, is scarcely possible. Tell me, however, what you would think a too frequent repetition of it. Would you think so of taking it monthly, and on the great festivals besides ?" "That, I believe, Sir," she replied, "would be as often as it is possible to take the Sacrament in this parish.' "It is true," I said; "but formerly it used to be administered every Sunday here in England; and in other countries, in the primitive times, it was administered every day; and what is more, we have good reason to conclude from Scripture that during the lives of the apostles every Christian partook of it. Indeed, for many ages after the apostles there was such a strong disposition in all Christians to partake of it, that they thought it impossible to do so too often. Their reverence, and piety, and gratitude, induced them to think, or rather to be quite certain, that they could not too often

renew the memorial of their blessed Lord, and of his sufferings and death for them; that they could not too often praise and extol him, as well as his heavenly Father, for the wonderful dispensation of mercy by the Gospel; that they could not too often repeat their vows of abiding by the Christian covenant, and of amending their lives; that they could not too often be pardoned for their sins, or receive fresh accessions of grace from the Holy Spirit; in short, that they could not too often enter into a communion of Christ's body and blood, without feeding upon which there would be no spiritual life in them. These were their sentiments, Mrs. Turner; and I do not imagine, that, whilst these sentiments animated the breasts of Christians, a due reverence and awe of the Sacrament was ever weakened or destroyed by the frequency of celebrating it. But what has all this to do with you and your husband, Mrs. Turner? You have never received this holy Sacrament but twice in your whole life, and both times privately; you have never once received it publicly, and in the proper place. You have not received it, therefore, either frequently, or too frequently; and I should suppose that, if you considered the matter at all, you would hardly affirm, that the receiving it once in church, after receiving it twice at home, will expose you to the danger of undervaluing it. At least it would be better for you to try the experiment of receiving it once publicly, and then to consider the effect of it. Indeed I fear that if you were to search your own heart as God searches it, you would find lurking there a very different reason for your reluctance to take the Sacrament in the church, than that which you have just insinuated to me. I suspect

you

very strongly that there is something or other in your affairs at variance with God's commands, which you cannot bring yourself to abandon, and which, therefore, be assured, whether you take the Sacrament or not, will be the cause of your eternal ruin. When took the Sacrament on your sick-bed, you probably thought that you might never recover; and so it was then very easy for you to renounce all iniquity. But now you are come back to life, and the business of life, you are come back also, I fear, to all your ancient habits. These I wish you to break through, whilst you are in health; and not merely to renounce them when you are sick and likely to die; and I recommend to you the constant habit of receiving the Sacrament at the altar, not in the presence of God only, but of your fellow-creatures also, as the most probable means of inducing you to renew your good resolutions; to bind yourself to the performance of them; to obtain sufficient strength to do so; and thus, in the end, to save your soul. Ah! my poor Mrs. Turner," I continued mournfully, is but a mockery of God, and your Saviour, to fly to them when you are dying; to neglect them when they have heard your prayers, and restored your health. If sickness and the fear of death overtake you again, which must be the case, unless you are suddenly cut off at a single blow, will you fly to them again, and call for the heavenly food, and expect it to nourish your soul, and fit it for the heavenly dwelling? Will it be your passport thither, when thus taken, do you think?"

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Here I stopped. I would have said much more, if the state of my two hearers had not rendered it

VOL. III.

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