description of his varied endeavours to benefit their souls, is thus given by his worthy biographer, Dr. Gilly :

"It was not on Sunday only, that he went the round of his churches, but he was ever visiting now one quarter, and then another: and happy did they esteem themselves at whose table he sat down, and under whose roof he lodged for the night. When his arrival was expected in certain hamlets, whose rotation to be visited was supposed to be coming round, it was beautiful to see the cottages send forth their inhabitants, to watch the coming of the beloved minister. 'Come, take your dinner with us,'Let me prepare your supper,'-' Permit me to give up my bed to you,' —were re-echoed from many a voice, and though there was nothing in the repast which denoted a feast-day, yet never was festival observed with greater rejoicing than by those, whose rye-bread and pottage were shared by the pastor Neff. Sometimes, when the old people of one cabin were standing at their doors, and straining their eyes to catch the first view of their guide to heaven," the youngsters of another were perched on the summit of a rock, and stealing a prospect which would afford them an earlier sight of him, and give them the opportunity of offering the first invitation. It was on these occasions that he obtained a perfect knowledge of the people, questioning them about such of their domestic concerns as he might be supposed to take an interest in, as well as about their spiritual condition, and finding where he could be useful, both as a secu. lar adviser and a religious counsellor. Could all their children read? Did they understand what they read? Did they offer up morning and evening prayers? Had they any wants that he could relieve? Any doubts that he could remove? Any afflictions wherein he could be a comforter ?>

"It was thus that he was the father of his flock, and master of their affections and their opinions; and when the seniors asked for his blessing, and the children took hold of his hands or his knees, he felt all the fatigue of his long journeys pass away, and became recruited with new strength. But for the high and holy feelings which sustained him, it is impossible that he could have borne up against his numerous toils and exposures, even for the few months in which he thus put his constitution to the trial. Neither rugged paths, nor the inclement weather of these Alps, which would change suddenly from sunshine to rain, and from rain to sleet, and from sleet to snow; nor snow deep under foot, and obscuring the view when dangers lay thick on his road; nothing of this sort deterred him from setting out, with his staff in his hand, and his wallet on his back, when he imagined that his duty summoned him. I have been assured by those who have received him into their houses at such times, that he has come in chilly, wet, and fatigued; or exhausted by heat, and sudden transitions from excessive heat to piercing cold, and that after sitting down a few minutes, his elastic spirits would seem to renovate his sinking frame, and he would enter into discourse with all the mental vigour of one who was neither weary nor languid."

In all respects Neff showed himself the father and the friend of his people. He taught them to improve their houses, to cultivate their lands, and extend their temporal comforts as far as their peculiar circumstances would admit. And the earnestness of his anxiety on their behalf was met with a rich return of gratitude and confidence and affection. In one dis

trict of his parish, more especially, which had been in a more destitute condition than the rest, he felt a lively interest. "From the first moment of my arrival," says he, "I took them as it were to my heart, and I ardently desired to be unto them even as another Oberlin." And so he actually proved. Though he found it impossible to devote more than a week in each month to this half-barbarous district, a change for the better was very soon apparent. Indeed, so extraordinary was the improvement of the peasantry of the Val Fressiniere in social manners and family comfort, no less than in agriculture, as to attract the attention of strangers; and so sensible were the people themselves of the advantage arising from their improved condition, that they looked upon their pastor with the most confiding affection and regard. They had received a counsellor from heaven, and these simple-hearted people appreciated the blessing.

In the course of his labours, Neff found great difficulty from the imperfect education which the young received at school. He, therefore, resolved to endeavour, as much as possible, to introduce an improved system of education. This, however, might appear impracticable, there being no schoolmasters capable of undertaking the task. Every obstacle tended only the more to rouse the energies of Neff. He resolved to take upon himself the office of schoolmaster,-a circumstance which is thus noticed by his biographer:

"Behold the preacher surrounded by his classes in a miserable stable, correcting the tone of one, the pronunciation of another, and the articulation of a third; patiently dinning sounds and sense into their ears, and making them spell the words, and divide by syilables, and repeat by sentences again and again, until he had put them into something like a fair training. Behold him also, to keep his pupils in good humour, and to mingle something pleasing with the dull routine of reading and spelling, putting aside his books, and giving lessons in music. This was a most successful as well as agreeable expedient; it was soon found that the best singers were also the best readers, and application to the more attractive lesson was usually accompanied by proficiency in the duller acquirement." Encouraged by the success of his exertions in the cause of education, Neff resolved to erect a schoolhouse. The situation chosen for the building was the village of Dornilleuse, and his mode of proceeding is thus graphically described :

"He persuaded each family in Dormilleuse to furnish a man who should consent to work under his directions; and having first marked out the spot with line and plummet, and levelled the ground, he marched at the head of his company to the torrent, and selected stones fit for the building. The pastor placed one of the heaviest upon his own shoulders, -the others did the same, and away they went with their burthens, toiling up the steep acclivity, till they reached the site of the proposed building. This labour was continued until the materials were all ready at

hand; the walls then began to rise, and in one week from the first commencement, the exterior masonry work was completed, and the roof was put upon the room. The windows, chimney, doors, tables, and seats, were not long before they also were finished. A convenient store added its accommodation to the apartment, and Dormilleuse, for the first time probably in its history, saw a public school-room erected, and the process of instruction conducted with all possible regularity and comfort."

Having completed the school-room, the indefatigable pastor commenced his work as a teacher, dedicating his time chiefly to the Normal department of his plan, or the training of schoolmasters, who might afterwards conduct the education of the children on an improved system. The winter of 1826-7 was accordingly spent at Dormilleuse; and such was the anxiety of Neff to improve the pupils who had put themselves under his care, that fourteen or fifteen hours out of the twenty-four were spent in study. The spot which had been selected for this experiment, was the most secluded and dreary of the whole Alpine districts, and the season was remarkably severe and stormy. But nothing could chill the efforts of Felix Neff. He persevered in his good work, until the close of winter called for the return of the little party of students to their different communes. The inhabitants of Dormilleuse regretted the breaking up of a society, which, though small, spread a cheerfulness throughout the secluded village. The account of the parting scene is thus beautifully given by Dr. Gilly :

"On the evening before they took their leave, the young men of the village prepared a supper for their new friends, and invited them to the parting banquet. It was a simple and a frugal repast, consisting of the productions of the chase. The bold hunter contributed his salted chamois, the less enterprising sportsman of the mountain laid a dried marmot upon the table, and one or two of the more successful rangers of the forest produced a bear's ham, as a farewell offering, in honour of the last evening on which the conversation of this interesting group was to be enjoyed. It was at the same time a pleasing, and a melancholy festival, but I do not find, in the pastor's Journal, that either the achievements of their ancestors, who had garrisoned this rocky citadel, and had repulsed numberless attempts to storm it, or the exploits of the chasseurs, who had furnished the festive board, formed the conversation of the evening. It seems to have savoured rather of the object which originally brought them together, and when one of the party remarked,- What a delightful sight, to behold so many young friends met together; but it is not likely that we shall ever meet all together again!' the pastor took the words up like a text, and enlarged upon the consolatory thought, that though they might see each other's faces no more in this life, they would most assuredly meet again in a joyful state of existence in the world to come, if they would persevere in their Christian course. He then gave them a parting benediction, and after a long and mournful silence, which each seemed unwilling to interrupt, either by uttering the dreaded goodbye, or moving from his seat, the valedictory words and embraces passed from one to another, and they separated. The next morning, at an early hour, they were seen winding down the mountain path to their several

homes; they of Dormilleuse gazed after them till their figures were lost in the distance, and the village on the rock appeared more dreary and desolate than ever."

Next year they again assembled, but, through the kindness of friends, in circumstances of greater comfort than before. Neff, however, found that his health was gradually declining. The severe labours and privations to which he had been subjected, began to prey upon a constitution never remarkably robust. In the winter of 1827, he performed his various duties with great difficulty. A total derangement of the digestive organs had taken place, and the internal pains to which he was in consequence subject, were greatly aggravated by a severe accident which he had sustained in the knee. When his pupils had returned at the end of the second session, if we may so term it, of the Normal institution, Neff feit that his disorder had greatly increased, his stomach had entirely lost its tone, and refused to receive any thing but liquids.

It now became evident that an immediate removal from the severe climate of the Alpine region was absolutely necessary. For a time he felt very reluctant to separate himself from a people among whom his labours had been so signally blessed. At length, however, after travelling over the greater number of the villages, to bid an affectionate farewell to his flock, he set out for Geneva, with the view of deriving benefit, if possible, from his native air. The relief from his sufferings, which he rather hoped for than expected, was partially granted. Taking advantage of intervals of apparent restoration to health, he uniformly exerted himself in some pious work, which most frequently led to a relapse.

As a last resource, he was advised to try the effect of mineral waters; and accordingly he resided for some time at Plombieres. While there, he preached regularly to the Protestants of the place. Having experienced a considerable revival of his strength, he returned to Geneva. On his arrival there, however, he began gradually to droop. His spirits failed" him, his body became emaciated, and it was but too evident to his friends that his stay on earth would be short.

"It was most heart-rending,' said a spectator of his sufferings, to behold him, thus pale and emaciated, his large eyes beaming with an expression of fortitude and pain; covered, from head to foot, with four or five woollen garments, which he was obliged to change frequently; submitting, in silence, and with the greatest calmness, to the application of the moxas, a painful operation, which was constantly repeated; suffering the pangs of hunger; counting the hours, and at last venturing to

An Indian or Chinese moss, used in the cure of some disorders, by burning it on the part affected.

take something; then waiting with anxiety till the food, such as it was, should digest, and thus passing all his days and nights during a long succession of relapses, and of physical prostration, which we sometimes looked upon as a relief." "

Even in the utmost extremities of his distress, his Alpine. flock dwelt much upon his mind. He was now quite aware that his labours among them were for ever come to a close. Still, even on his death-bed, he pressed upon them, by letter, the precious truths which he had been privileged to urge upon them from the pulpit. And when unable to write, he employed his mother as amanuensis, to whom he dictated two letters, addressed to his beloved flock. Though unable, for want of room, to insert either of these beautiful and impressive letters, we cannot refrain from presenting our readers with an extract of the touching reply of the simple peasants of the Alpine valleys, to a letter which had been sent to prepare them for the mournful tidings which his friends would too soon be called to communicate.

"It is we, it is we, who are the cause of your long illness. Had we been more ready to listen to you, you would not have had occasion to fatigue yourself in the deep snow, nor to exhaust your lungs, and all the powers of your body. Oh, how much pain has it cost you to teach us : Jike our good Saviour, you forgot yourself for our sakes. Dear pastor, sensible of the affection you have always manifested towards us, we desire, with all our hearts, to be useful to you. We can say, with truth, that if our lives could be of service to you, we would give them, and then we should not be doing more for you than you have done for us. May the Lord bless you, and grant you patience in this long trial. May He shower upon you a thousand benedictions from on high, and recompense you for all the pains you have taken of us! Your reward is in heaven : an immortal crown awaits you. We will conclude by entreating your prayers in our behalf; unworthy as we are, we do not forget you in ours. Every family, without exception, from the heights of Romas to the foot of the Influs, salutes you, and you will see the names of some of them in this letter. We are your unworthy, but entirely devoted brothers."

The closing scene was now fast approaching,-it was in complete harmony with the whole course of his life. "Tell me not how the man died," was once the saying of a pious minister, "but tell me how he lived.' We have seen "how holily, and justly, and unblameably," Felix Neff spent his laborious and useful life. Let us attend him in his dying moments, and listen with devout eagerness to the latest aspirations of this man of God.

"We had the satisfaction," said a narrator of the dying scene, ❝ of being much with him towards the close of his painful. career, and we never heard a murmer escape from his lips. He was grateful for the affection shewn towards him, and re