Joe tried to eat and drink, but the food seemed to choke him. He was nervous and excited. After an ineffectual effort to compose himself, he laid his head on the table and wept like a child. After a while, Simeon persuaded him to bathe his head in cold water, and he eat and drank with good appetite. When he went away, the kind-hearted host said,

"Try to do well, Joseph, and you shall always find a friend in me."

The poor fellow pressed his hand, and replied,

"I understand now how it is you kill bad neighbours." He entered into Mr. Green's service the next day, and remained in it many years, an honest and faithful man.

MEMOIR OF TAMAR FAUCETT.

TAMAR FAUCETT, was born at Pennybridge, near Ulverston, in the year 1836. In her infancy and childhood she evidenced a most amiable disposition, which made her a favourite with all who knew her. She never manifested any thing like obstinate self-will, or peevishness of temper. She honoured her parents, and in all things obeyed their commands. Her fine amiable disposition made her much beloved by her teachers, both in Lancaster and Preston. In the latter town, she attended the Wesleyan Methodist Association Sunday-school for about four years; and by regular attendance, diligence in learning, and good behaviour, justly obtained the regard and esteem of her teachers, and of all who were connected with the school. She was particularly delighted when the Itinerant preacher visited the school, and was profited by his addresses to the children, and she greatly loved him in return.

It was during last autumn that the instructions she received at the Sunday-school and chapel, were blessed to her conversion. The evidence of her change of heart was so clear, that her conversation about Jesus, the Bible, and religion, was more like that of an experienced Christian of ten years standing, than that of a girl of fourteen years

of age. The Spirit of God testified so clearly to her spirit that she was his child, that her parents, and several of our friends who visited her, were edified and delighted by hearing her speak of her enjoyment of religion, and of her heavenly home. How true are the words of Jesus, "Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes."

By working in a factory, it is believed, her health became impaired. In the latter end of last year, she perceived that disease was making an attack on her constitution. She, however, attended school and chapel as long as she was able. Not being able to go to school one Sabbath morning, she was much cast down; but on her mother promising her that she should go to chapel in the evening, and, if able, should remain to see the sacrament administered, she was much cheered. Accordingly, in the evening, she attended chapel, and though she was much fatigued, no persuasions of her mother's could induce her to leave the chapel until she had seen the Lord's Supper administered. It was a precious season, and she got much good. After this, she lingered on through the month of December and January; being sometimes better and at other times worse; but enduring all her sufferings with most exemplary patience; never once expressing a wish to get better; being only anxious "to be with Christ which is far better."

She greatly desired the conversion of her sisters and brothers, but especially she longed for the conversion of her father. Often she prayed for this, and sometimes in a most loving manner would speak to him about the welfare of his soul. He greatly loved her, and it is hoped, that her prayers will be answered; and that she may have the happiness of meeting the whole family in heaven.

In the beginning of February last, it was evident to her friends that she was fast sinking. They had done all in their power to save a life which was to them so valuable; but it appeared that nothing could stay the march of death. On being informed that her kind teacher, Miss Isabella Moore, was likely to go to heaven before her, Tamar re

joiced at the thought of meeting her teacher in heaven: but God has spared the teacher, and taken the scholar to himself. I saw her frequently during her illness, and especially during the last few days of her life. On the evening before her death, her mother inquired whether she would like to see Mr. Thompson? Tamar was just able to answer, "Yes." I visited her, and found that she was fast sinking into unconsciousness; but her soul was full of heavenly love, faith and hope. I prayed with her, and commended her to God, amid many tears of weeping friends and family relations. Her face was radient with smiles of sincere regard and happiness. She did not speak afterwards, but gradually and calmly fell asleep in Jesus, on the 7th of February, 1851. The Sunday following I spoke of her happy death in the chapel and Sunday-school, and many tears were shed. May impressions then made lead many to the possession of true religion. Preston.

J. T.

THE MAN IN THE FUSTIAN JACKET.

Do you know, reader, what the sunshine of the heart is, when the sky looks so blue, so bright, and so beautiful, that you cannot choose but climb up above it with your thoughts and desires, that you may be nearer the throne of the Eternal, to pour forth, for unnumbered mercies, your thankfulness and praise? A half hour of such sunshine is enough to make us patiently endure a half year of dreariness and gloom. I am now in a cheerful mood, and will therefore relate to you my uncle's account of the man in the fustian jacket. O! how I loved to hear him tell the tale! Again and again did he repeat the story, and always with as much life and spirit as if he had never told it before. You shall have it, as near as I can remember, in his own words:

"It is an excellent thing for a man to be diligent in what he undertakes. If business is to answer, it must be attended to. If a plan is to succeed, it must be followed

up with spirit. You shall have an instance of this. I will tell you of the man in the fustian jacket.

"Soon after I came to live in this house, as I was painting the palisades of my little garden to the front, a man in a fustian jacket stopped at the gate. You have a pretty little garden here, sir,' said he, and it looks all the better for the fresh paint on the palisades. I live just round the corner, and if you should ever want colours of any kind, I should be happy to supply you. I have ivory-black, dropblack, blue-black, and lamp-black; very good browns, purple, Spanish, and Vandyke, and though I say it, nobody has better blues, ochres, and umbers. Those who deal with me say I am famous for my gamboge, king's-yellow, and chrome-yellow; and as for vermillion, both English and Chinese, white-lead and flakewhite, Brunswick-green, emerald-green, and mineral-green, there is none better than mine to be had.'

"No sooner had I told him that no colour of any kind was wanted by me, than he thanked me civilly, again spoke of my pretty garden, and went on. 'I wish,' thought I, rather hastily, that he would keep his gamboge, king's-yellow, and his vermillion to himself—what do I want with his colours?'

"The very next morning, as I stood in my little garden, again came by the man in the fustian jacket, carrying a large jar. How nice and fresh the shower that fell in the night has made your garden, sir,' said he; 'I am taking a jar of my neat's-foot oil to one of your neighbours. If any thing in the oil way should at any time be wanted, linseed or boiled, common train, seal, sperm, or Florence in flasks, I shall be happy to serve you; I live only just round the corner.'

"What does the man mean?' said I to myself, when he was gone, pestering me with his linseed and boiled oil. I want none of it. I am not to be compelled against my will, I suppose, to buy his greasy oils. Why cannot the man keep quiet?'

"Rather warm, sir,' said the man in the fustian jacket, as he paused for a moment, on passing by in the middle

of the same day. Rather warm, sir! Not exactly the day for hot joints, but better suited for cold meat and pickles. I am running with a pot of pickles to the house with the green blinds yonder. If you are fond of pickles, sir, my capers and cucumbers would just suit you; but I have all sorts-olives, both French and Spanish; onions, gherkins, walnuts, French beans, cabbage, capsicums, and cauliflower. I live rather handy for you, sir-only three doors round the corner.'

me!

"Yes,' thought I, you live handy enough to torment One would think it would be quite time enough to tell me all about your capers and your cucumbers, your capsicums and your cauliflowers, when I ask you; but that will be some time first, I promise you. 1 begin to be sadly out of temper.'

If you

"On the evening of the same day, just as I was enter ing in at my garden gate, once more went by the man in the fustian jacket. Almost time to light up, sir,' said he; I somehow forgot, when I was out with my basket this morning, to leave four pounds of candles at one of my customers, and so I am taking them now. should want candles of any kind, sir, you will find in my store dips, fine wax, spermaceti, cocoa-nut, composite, and metallic wicks, excellent. Perhaps sir, you will give me a trial some day; for I am, as I may say, a sort of neighbour of yours, my shop being only just round the corner.' "Hardly could I keep my temper while he was talking to me, but when he was gone I gave way sadly. He will be a daily plague to me,' said, 1, and I wish that I had never come into the neighbourhood, or that he and his tallow candles were a hundred miles off.'

"I was pulling up a weed or two on the following day in my little garden, as Betty came out to the door with her broom to sweep the steps, and at the same instant I heard the voice of the man in the fustian jacket, who, as usual, was on his way to take some article or other to his customers. You deserve a garden, sir,' said he, for you keep it so nice and tidy. Your girl, there, knows how to handle a broom, I see. I sell brooms, sir, and