spot of beauty to another, without, for the present, resting upon any, as if incapable of satiating her eager curiosity and wondering eyes. Hitherto disease had made no inroads on our beloved child's constitution. Her cheeks were flushed with health; her limbs were elastic and pliant, and her ardent mind was at its height of vigour. She ascended the steepest hills with agility, and looked upon her more sedate and cautious fellow-adventurers, as they slowly mounted the acclivity, with exultation and triumph.

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The heights of Abraham" were scaled again and again; and she was always the ready companion of every fresh friend, who needed a guide and an encourager to encounter those difficulties, which she had so often overcome. Her taste for what was grand and beautiful in nature was exquisite ; and few manifested greater delight than she did, in whatever presented itself under this aspect. But she did not satisfy herself with merely beholding nature in her sublimity: she descended also with no ordinary pleasure to examine her more minute and

microscopic wonders; and she was ever viewing, with admiration, the almost endless variety of mineral and fossil curiosities, with which this romantic place abounds.

Our out-of-door pleasures were interrupted by one or two wet days; but they did not prevent my dear Hannah from enjoying pleasures of another kind. She had made, at Matlock, a few new acquaintances; and she thought their friendship worth cultivating, by drawing nearer to them in social intercourse. Her agreeable conversational talent, joined with her unassuming and unaffected manners, and her readiness to fall in with their own way of amusing themselves, soon rendered her a favourite with the party; and I believe the lasting esteem of one or two pious and excellent ladies was the result of this accidental acquaintance. It was one of the happy peculiarities of my dear daughter's mind, to cull pleasure from whatever she ⚫ came in contact with. Almost every thing has a dark and a bright side ;—and while some possess an unhappy ingenuity in dis

covering ground for repining under the most enviable circumstances, she could generally find some cause for cheerfulness in those that were by no means inviting. Disappointment never rendered her sullen and unconversable. The wetness of a day, which thwarted a favourite plan, never discomposed her: she would join, indeed, with her friends, and say, "what a disagreeable day it is!" but she never suffered the day to make her disagreeable; she would, on the contrary, rather summon all her powers to disperse the gloom it seemed to bring along with it, by being more than ordinarily cheerful in herself. I am aware, indeed, that these are minute things; but still they are characteristic; and I trust I may be indulged a little, if, with a heart still bleeding at the loss of this beloved daughter, I linger on those excellences of her disposition that made her so dear to ourselves.

One of the objects I had in view, in this summer excursion, was, to pay a visit to some of those places which had been the scene of my juvenile pleasures, and early

education and it singularly fell out that, on the first Sunday of my absence from home, I preached, in the church of my native village, in Nottinghamshire; on the second, in the place where I spent the most years of my scholastic education, in Derbyshire; and the third, in the parish in Lincolnshire, to which I was ordained as a minister. Whilst we were spending our time at Matlock, I took my daughter over to Ashover, a large and populous village about four miles distant: and here I met with an old school-fellow, who introduced me to the Rector. On my telling him that every part of that house, and those gardens and premises were, perhaps, as well known to me as to himself; and that I had spent many years under that roof, as a pupil to the Rev. Mr. Cursham, who had, more than thirty years ago, been curate of the parish, he kindly invited me to take his pulpit on the following Sunday. I confess this invitation fell in peculiarly with my feelings and wishes. The spot revived in me associations of the most affecting kind. It was in that

very house, and in the church which stood opposite, that I had received, if not my earliest, yet certainly my deepest and most permanent impressions of the value of the soul, and the necessity of securing, first, and above all things, its eternal salvation. In that house, I had poured out my heart with the deepest fervour before the throne of grace for the pardon of sin, and the renewing of the mind; and had, with many tears, offered up prayers, the fruit of which I was at this time enjoying. Scarcely was there a building, or a field in that vicinity, which did not speak to me, with a voice irresistibly touching. This spot reminded me, that I had joined myself to God, in an" everlasting covenant, never to be forgotten:"-that, that I had said, “ if I do not remember Thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth :" another, that I had met with such an individual, and warned him to " flee from the wrath to come;" a fourth, that I had held delightful conversation with an eminent christian; and that

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my heart burned within me, whilst he