had been called to experience such heavy trials; a look which probably induced Nanny, as she gave me her arm on quitting the house, to say, with a smile of sweetest meaning, "For a little moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee.”

A couple of weeks passed away, and the time of my departure drew near: the good rector was attacked by a severe cold, and Nanny kept him rigidly confined to the drawing-room, lest he should indiscreetly pursue his usual custom of speaking to the poor people from the open window of his study. One day the hero of my simple story desired an audience, and certainly seemed a little confused on finding it was not to be a private one: had we been aware of his object, I must premise that we should have withdrawn. He came to inform the rector, that though Kate's health was now restored, he thought her strength was by no means equal to support the constant annoyance to which her grandmother's unpleasant disposition and feelings subjected her; that he had, therefore, engaged a girl to live with the old woman and attend to her, and considered it expedient that their marriage should take place at once, and Kate be established in her own quiet abode.

The rector was quite of his opinion, for he said he saw no use of unnecessary procrastination; but, looking rather earnestly at poor John, he added—

I suppose then, John, your mind has undergone no change on this subject?'

The young man coloured, and then grew pale. For once, at least, Nanny and I were not pleased with the rector; but after a pause he answered.

'However I might have changed, sir, my promise was passed, and unless Kate had changed it would

'I never was a Papist in heart, Miss Nanny; and long ago I would have left the mass, but from the time I began to think that John and I fancied each other, I resolved it never should be said I turned Protestant to get him, or that he had anything to de with it; but when I thought it was all over with us both, I could not die easy till I had spoken the truth that was in my mind, and I sent for his reverence on purpose, and told him I wished to die a Protestant, but he would not let me speak of it just then, because my poor grandmother was hard enough on me without that, and he thought me too ill to bear more: and he told me the first object was to seek to know that my heart was changed and my sins forgiven; and indeed Miss Nanny I was so taken up with this, that I did not think it was so much consequence whether I was considered to die a Protestant or a Romanist, and so the days passed over till we heard that there was hope for us yet, and then I told his reverence, that if God was still so good to us, and that John came back, I would never let him be brought into trouble any more about me, but make it clear to all that I changed of my own free will, and that too when it was all one to me whether I did so or not.'

The next Sunday the rector, who had never since that which immediately followed the unhappy Dogherty's death alluded to the distressing circumstances of this little parish history, preached a very beautiful, and rather applicable sermon, from the words Iwith which I shall close it: " Keep innocency, and do the thing that is right, for that shall bring a man peace at the last."

55

FOR THE NEW YEAR.

THE opening of another year

Has dawned upon the view;

The rapid chariot wheels of time
Begin their course anew.

With swiftest glance the mind surveys

The days of former years;

And each event that mark'd their course

Like some past dream appears.

What mingled shades of joy and grief

Their varying scenes unfold;

The history of each passing year

Seems like a tale that's told.

Days, months, and years have come and gone,

Their rapid course is past;

But in that course they hasten on

One solemn hour-THE LAST.

Our days are swifter than a post,

They fade like shades of even,

And yet a vast importance hangs

On every moment given.

They fly, but what a weighty charge

Our passing moments bear,

They waft our inmost thoughts to heaven,

And stamp the record there.

J. J. C.

THE CHURCH AS IT OUGHT NOT TO BE.

'FIE! fie! naughty Charlotte Elizabeth!' says the Leeds Intelligencer of December 7, when condescending to dissect the remarks we felt ourselves bound to make on Dr. Wolff's recent 'Journal.' Naughty people must not be allowed to sit in judgment on their own case; but in this free England the naughtiest person, yea, even a Lady Reviewer,' may put in a defensive plea against any charge, and subpoena witnesses on her behalf. We do not, however, intend to enter the lists with the Gentleman Reviewer of Leeds; we will merely say that we do not retract or regret a syllable of what was written in our afore-mentioned article: neither shall we follow the advice so goodhumouredly given by our truly dear and truly honoured friend, Dr. Wolff, in his pleasant letter to the editor of the Christian Observer; where adverting to the same notice in our Magazine, he recommends our going to Oxford, and arguing the point with Messrs. Newman and Co. with a confident assertion, that IF they be Papists, which,' he parenthetically adds, they are not,' they will make Charlotte Elizabeth a Papist in five minutes. We would be sorry to stake our Protestantism on that 'IF,' although we are ready to admit that we are as likely to be converted to those gentlemen's views in five minutes as in five years. With regard to Dr. Wolff, if there be a man on earth whom nobody can help loving, he is that

man. Dissent we may, from some of his views; but there is that in his character which, if a critic dipped his pen in acetic acid, to trace a rebuke for Joseph Wolff, would sweeten it to honey before it touched the paper. With this feeling we always speak of. him, think of him, pray for him; and even if he were so inoculated with the virus of Froude as to become the very reverse of what he is, we should only hate the disease the more, for having infected one we love so well.

Besides, Dr. Wolff is not in earnest when he rails at ladies: it is only a little of the native playfulness that always distinguished him. Let any one turn over the leaves of his book, and see if one word in it recurs oftener than that word 'Lady,' or with more unvaried proofs of the endeared estimation in which he holds it. No, Dr. Wolff did not mean to scold us; but the Leeds Reviewer does: he taxes the 'unchristian English lady' with making a hit at the Puseyites,' which he says is as ill-judged as it is abortive.' Now whether it be abortive or no, we hope to make many such hits; and if we fall short of our aim, the Puseyites must take the will for the deed; as evidently they do when bestowing such a thumping on the naughty person whose attempt, they say, proved abortive.

We are now going to give them the benefit of a reprint, in our pages, from a journal which has set forth with graphic skill the recent accomplishment of what they regard as a great step towards a 'return to the ancient discipline of the church of England.' We copy it from the Staffordshire Gazette, and if the contemptible puerilities of the thing provoke a smile of derision, let it be borne in mind that it is by such