and anxiously called him by name.

Unable to obtain any answer, she rushed in a state almost distracted to the house for assistance. She was readily attended to the spot, but before reaching it the spirit of Rodney, of her only friend on earth, was gone for ever.

We do not attempt to paint her grief. You who have seen the grave close over all that of earth you loved, or who even in this world. are separated from all you hold dear, can alone enter into her feelings. At early morn and late by night Millicent would steal to sit alone by the grave; and to have seen her there you would have thought her comparatively happy; for there it was she felt nearer the only being for whom she had ever loved life. She was never known upon any occasion to mention his name; and apparently her spirits had lost little of their natural vigour. But she had been deeply wounded, and, though she concealed her feelings, she was totally destitute of all comfort, and often the thought of her desolate condition would make her pass many an hour of bitter agony. Of the mighty consolations of religion she

knew only the name. Christianity, at her aunt's house, wore too austere a garb to be at all pleasing to youth; and Millicent, while she heard much of the excellence of religion, and saw little of its effects upon the tempers or actions of its professors at home, unwisely despised it; nay, almost wholly rejected its holy truths. In place of mildly reasoning with her on the mistaken notions she had adopted, Lady Ashton seldom saw her without a severe discourse upon her irreligion; and often was she made to read the denunciations of God's wrath against the ungodly. The Bible thus became to her a dreaded book; and though conversant with its history and familiar with its language, its real import was as unknown to her as to the inhabitant of some distant region where the light of the blessed gospel has never shone.

Some few Christians there were who occasionally came to visit Lady Ashton, to whom Millicent could not deny the appellation of consistent. She felt that they treated her with marked kindness; seldom spoke to her upon religion-more willing to convince her

that she was in error by endeavouring to evidence that Christianity was the rule of their conduct. When they did address aught to her concerning Jesus Christ and his glorious gospel, it was not in the language of superior attainment, but that of the possessors of a treasure, in which they anxiously wished that she might share. Of this number was the rector of the parish, Mr. Vernon, a man of truly valuable character. He perceived with sorrow the erroneous method of Millicent's education, and had endeavoured to expostulate with Lady Ashton on the subject, but in vain. He hoped-he sometimes hoped that religion did dwell in her heart; but deeply did he mourn over Lady Ashton's great worldly-mindedness-her little self-denial-her false liberality; and deeply did he regret that these were often displayed before so acute an observer as her niece Millicent.

Mr. Vernon was apparently between forty and fifty years of age; his countenance intelligent and benignant, deeply marked by care, but extremely prepossessing; his manners were agreeable and gentle; his conversation

evinced the happy, though rare, combination of great refinement of mind united to great power of intellect. He did not think it sufficient to set forth on the first day of the week doctrines which had no influence upon his conduct-his life was a practical exemplification of these. By Christians of different denominations he was respected and even beloved. This was not the effect of any compromise on his part of one iota of what he believed to be truth. He was ever zealous for the honour of his Lord and Master, and boldly wielded the sword of truth in defence of that cause which he deemed it his highest honour to advocate. Against error, however plausibly advanced or ably defended, he raised his voice -not that of harsh censure or unmeasured blame, but the language of kind, though powerful expostulation-of christian entreaty. He had been resident in the parish of Ashton many years, and many had been the fruits of his ministry. His path through life, however, had been one of severe trial; and from being the father of most promising children, they had been torn from him when rare at

tainments and hearts imbued with piety had given the parents every reason to hope that they would live to be the bright crowns of their old age. But such was not the will of God, and Mr. and Mrs. Vernon were left childless. They did not give way to morose and desponding grief; they knew that the same Lord who loved them had in mercy stricken them; and they looked upon their bereavements, and all their deep afflictions, as incitements not to consider earth as their

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abiding city," but to look beyond, to that city whose builder and maker is God. Doubly zealous, therefore, in the work of the Lord, they pursued their way, hand in hand, seeking to know more and more of the love of God, and by every means in their power to spread this knowledge abroad.

.

It was more than a year and a half after the death of Rodney Ashton, that Caroline Aylmer was married to Mr. Kenyon. Mr. Vernon had learned with much regret that it was Lady Ashton's intention that Millicent should accompany her sister abroad to finish her education; and, having seen many bane