At the age of sixteen, the morning of Horace's life was clouded by the sudden death of an only and beloved sister. This unexpected blow gave a new current to his entire existence, and brought home so forcibly to his mind the transitoriness of all earthly things, that he resolved henceforth to make the concerns of eternity the chief object of his being. Nor did this resolution, as, alas! so many do that are formed under the agonies of bereavement, flee away like the early dew and the morning cloud, when time has assuaged the bitterness of those first pangs, and the sun of prosperity again shone out. The resolve to choose the better part remained stedfast and abiding.

A proud and a happy and a solemn day it was, an era in his life, the impression of which was never to be effaced, that in which Horace Fleetmore entered holy orders, and attained the goal of all his wishes, the long-coveted honour of being 'an ambassador for Christ.'

About a year before this event he had been introduced by his Oxford friend, Charles Grey, to the family of the latter, and an attachment had sprung up between him and the sister of his college companion. The young people had not very many opportunities of being together, even after Horace's ordination, their homes being in distant counties, and the young man much engaged: but where there exists congeniality of feeling, and especially on the one point of only real and surpassing importance, religion, intimacy soon ripens. The image of Anna Grey began almost insensibly to mingle in all Fleetmore's projects of future usefulness. His imagination pictured her as the active fellow-helper in his

parochial labours, the gentle dispenser of those 'sweet charities' which are peculiarly a woman's province; and he felt thankful for the Providence that had brought him acquainted with such a one, and preserved him from the anxiety and distraction from his duties, which the search for a wife after he had entered on his ministry might occasion.

As for Anna Grey, her affection for her brother, and deference to his opinion were such, that long before she saw Horace her admiration was excited, and her interest awakened, towards a character which was the constant theme of her dear Charles's praise. The young man was never tired of descanting, with all the glowing enthusiasm of friendship, on the perfections of Horace. How you will like him, sister!' was the conclusion which invariably wound up every fresh eulogium. They met-and Charles Grey was right.

It was spring, and London was fast filling with the busy multitudes that throng its crowded streets, and thunder over its echoing pavements, and sweep round its noble parks and squares. The eternal din of the great metropolis-that hoarse rumbling roll that all day long resounds,

like the loud roar

Of ocean dashing on its shingly shore,'

and ceases not to vex the drowsy ear of night,' had fairly set in. Mr. Grey had a house in town, where he always removed with his family for three months in every spring, and during these three months on former occasions there was a suspension of intercourse between the Greys and Horace Fleetmore, who seldom visited the capital.

Now, however, the case was altered. The young clergyman had been offered the cure of a large and well-attended chapel in the west end, which he decided on accepting, until the living destined for him by his uncle, the Bishop of —, should fall vacant. Charles Grey was overjoyed at having his friend so near him, and his sister, in the frequent opportunities which increased intimacy afforded, became more and more convinced that her brother's glowing descriptions were but faint sketches of a character, so rare and excellent in every respect. The more she knew him, the more fervently did she return the affection he expressed for her.

Horace Fleetmore had been upwards of a month in London before the person he was appointed to succeed resigned the duties of his curacy, and he had therefore not yet officiated at the chapel. None of the Grey family had ever heard him either preach or read prayers, and it may be imagined they looked forward with no little interest to the first Sunday on which he was to do so. The religious feelings of Charles Grey were ardent and sincere. He was proud of the talents of his friend, and of the gifts and graces with which the latter was so richly endowed; but it was his zeal for the glory of God far more than the partiality of affection that gave these gifts their paramount value in his eyes. Whatsoever things were lovely and of good report, all that was graceful, and attractive, and fair, Charles Grey earnestly coveted to adorn and beautify the cause he had at heart. Everything that was calculated to make religion winning in its aspect, to recommend it to others, and cause it to be loved and admired, he would have pressed into the service.

No wonder that with these feelings so ardent and strong, he gloried, as he did, in the rare qualities of his friend. The graceful figure of the young man,the faultless beauty of his classic features, tinged as they were with that saddened and tender expression, the nameless interest which sorrow ever leaves behind it,

the rich deep tones of his musical and most persuasive voice,-the beaming smile and winning earnestness of those dark intelligent eyes-all these external advantages Charles Grey regarded as so many additional means to glorify and adorn the religion of which their owner was the minister. His heart swelled at the thought that all were consecrated to the service of him for whom the fairest and loveliest that earth contains is too poor an offering. He regarded his friend as one of those vessels of gold or silver in a great house, of whom the apostle speaks, (2 Tim. ii. 20, 21,) “a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the master's use, and prepared for every good work:" and he felt a holy jealousy that this fair vessel should lose aught of its attraction, or tarnish in its lustre; but, on the contrary, by maintaining the highest polish of which it was capable, it should be the more meet and worthy of the temple in which it was placed.

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As might naturally be supposed, the things of eternity were a frequent topic of conversation in Mr. Grey's family when the young clergyman was present. Oh! how he would kindle while on this subject! Out of the abundance of his heart did he then indeed speak, as with glowing enthusiasm, every feature brightening with animation, the natural eloquence with which he was so peculiarly gifted gushed unrestrained in warm and beautiful flow. At these mo

ments, Charles Grey and his sister listened and gazed with delighted admiration; but while her more concentrated and womanly feelings experienced a pleasure that referred alone to the bright and beloved being before her, Charles felt a desire in accordance with the largeness of a man's comprehensive mind, and longed that multitudes could be present to hear the one thing needful advocated with such surpassing ability.

chapel, Charles

The week that preceded the Sabbath on which Horace was to officiate for the first time at appeared interminable to Anna Grey. was scarcely less impatient. At length the day arrived; the hour for divine service approached, and twenty minutes at least before the bell stopped, the Grey family were installed in their pew. When the vestry door opened, and that the handsome figure of Horace Fleetmore, attired in his robes, was seen advancing with graceful dignity up the aisle, the young girl hardly dared to look towards him, lest the proud admiration that throbbed at her heart should betray itself in her countenance. She involuntarily held her breath to catch the first sounds that fell from his lips; while Charles remained with his eyes rivetted on his friend, eagerly awaiting the fulfilment of his high hopes.

The service commenced. Was it possible, or did their senses deceive them? could that really be Horace Fleetmore, the devout, ardent, enthusiastic Horace, who was now uttering the heart-stirring words of our beautiful Liturgy in a manner so cold, and lifeless, and constrained, it seemed as though he neither felt or even understood what he was repeating? The service proceeded, and still there was no