afternoon. I saw that the last stage of the journey was reached; the end was not far away.

6

He pointed to an old box standing on the table. I took it to him; he bade me unlock it, and take from it a paper. Read it, Charles,' he said. Charles took the paper and read it: it stated that he had fifty pounds more than he should require, after providing for funeral expenses. Would Charles. take it to the next quarterly meeting of the circuit, and place it at the disposal of the brethren for the good of the circuit? The little furniture and household chattels he wished to be divided between certain persons whose names were mentioned in the paper; but his tools he gave to Widow Bentley's son, who was serving his apprenticeship to the shoe trade, and would soon be out of his time. He then asked us to sign the paper as witnesses. I and the minister complied with his request, and when prayer had been offered, we prepared to leave; but before doing so, friend Staines told us it would not be long before the messenger would be there. 'Before to-morrow's setting sun, I shall be in glory. I have no pain ; I have not a shadow of a doubt; it is calm, and my peace is deep, yes, very deep, and "it passeth understanding."

We went to the chapel that evening, rejoicing that another from our Society would soon walk the plains of light. At four o'clock next morning, as the colliers were about to begin their daily toil in the pit, old Zebedee entered into his Master's joy. 'Old man,' I exclaimed, ' we shall meet thee in the mansions of light, for surely thou art gone home, and art now experiencing "that bliss for which" thou didst pant, "in thy Redeemer's breast." "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man is peace."

IF

CHAPTER XXV.

OLD METHODY JANE.

F the old lady had not Methodism on the brain, she certainly had something equivalent in her heart; for did not a great man say some years since, that Methodism is Christianity in earnest'? Old Jane's 'Methodism,' or 'Christianity,' was of a very earnest type; it was as warm in winter as in summer. I know not the quantity or kind of fruit she bore when she was a younger tree in the garden of the Lord; but this I know, she brought forth as rich and ripe clusters of fruit in her old age as any person of my acquaintance; and the chief cause of this was, she was planted in the courts of the Lord's house. Ascertain the number of meetings that would be held in the chapel during the week, and you could calculate on seeing Jane in a certain place at a certain time, without fail. We are afraid the old clockwork type of Methodism is dying out very fast

Old Jane was very much like a swallow during the day, flitting from one part of the village to another, carrying her knitting, with which she was

always busy. I have often wondered if the old lady did her knitting through the night, as well as in the day. I mean, did she knit in her sleep? From what we could see of her, she never wearied of knitting; and she seemed just as unconscious of what she was doing as she would be if asleep. At six o'clock old Jane was in a certain place. If any persons called to see her at her lodgings, as they sometimes would, and, not finding her at home, would ask when and where they would be likely to find her, the answer would be, 'Stand at the chapel gate at six o'clock this evening, and without fail you will see her there.'

The old lady was well stricken in years when I knew her; but for regularity and punctuality I have never seen her surpassed. Our old clock always reminds me of old Methody Jane.' It might have been my grandmother's and grandfather's clock for aught I know to the contrary. Old Jane's excellent qualities were best seen by contrast, the same as the old clock's. I have always set a higher value on the old time-piece, since I saw it tried side by side with another, of more modern pretensions and a great deal more showy. The new one would strike at a rapid rate, while the old one would tell out the hour with deliberation, and what appeared a long and painful groan-O-n-e, t-w-o, t-h-r-e-e. A stranger, on hearing the old clock strike, would say, 'It will never keep time; when compared with the other, it is valueless.' But it was just the reverse. As soon as the hour had passed, the old clock said, 'O-n-e;' while the flashy one would be five minutes late, or had stopped altogether.

Old Jane was never late; never stopped. She

performed her religious duties with the regularity and exactitude with which she did her knitting. And the old lady's experience was always in keeping with her knitting. You did not find her wasting time in picking up stitches. She did not drop her stitches in religious matters. How much time is lost in dropping stitches! Religion with some persons is very much like the work of some whom we know in the knitting line. They are always dropping and picking up stitches. Old Jane did not go over her work twice. She made sure work as she went along.

Two shillings and sixpence a week, with what she could earn by her knitting, was all she had to depend on; but who ever heard her murmur? or who ever knew her fail to pay her class and ticket money? Old Jane had always been in easy circumstances. She very often got as low as sixpence, and sometimes lower; but, The lower it got, the better it seemed,' she would say. How near God must have been to the widow, when He kept her, and her son, and the prophet, day after day, month after month, on the handful of meal!' It did one good, when faith was low, to converse with Jane on the dealings of her Father. She had no one but her Father God; and in Him she had a Saviour and a Comforter. She would like to know where the person lived on earth that was happier than she was, or better off; her cup was running over all the time.

Most of her neighbours had some earthly relations to confide in-parents, brothers, and sisters; and some had children; she had none, but she did what Peter advised, 'cast all her care' on the blessed Saviour; and He cared for her,' and had done so

ever since she could remember, when she was left an orphan, and an old aunt had brought her up.

'I have hours of conversation with Him,' she would say; and I am quite put out with myself at times, because I get tired of talking to Him. But there, I don't know when I leave off, for I am talking to Him in my dreams. Bless Him, He is "about my bed," as well as "my path; and if I cannot talk to Him and keep awake, He will allow me to talk to Him in my sleep. Jacob got a great deal from Him when he had the hard pillow for his head to rest on; he saw more than he had ever seen awake. I am His, waking or sleeping, living or dying.'