It was the uniform custom of this truly apostolic pastor, every year, at the close of harvest, to distribute the surplus of his glebe among the poor of his parish; after housing first the necessary supply of his own little household, which consisted but of himself, a man servant, and an old female housekeeper.

It so happened, however, that one year a peculiar circumstance occurred, which compelled him to depart from his usual plan.— He had engaged, in the openness and generosity of his heart, to subscribe 30l. towards the expense of building a chapel in a distant town, where the parishioners were too numerous to be well accommodated in their own parish church. Having always the love of God, and the salvation of souls in view, he did not regret his promise; but unable to raise the money by any other means than by breaking in upon the little hoard of his poor parishioners, he had no expedient but that of selling what heretofore he had always given away, and converting the corn into money to fulfil his engagement for the chapel. Instead, therefore, of calling his poor parishioners together, as usual, to take from the fields their harvest, he was obliged to invite some richer ones of the village to buy as much corn as would supply the 30l. which he had promised towards the erection of the chapel. The expedient was very painful to a man of Mr. T.'s feelings; but the obligation seemed unavoidable.

Having, by selling his corn, obtained the money, Mr. Thompson, left his home with an intention to be himself the bearer of his benefaction. In his journey, which was about twenty miles, he overtook on the road a young lady mounted on a single horse like himself; and being a man of very cheerful and communicative manners, he accosted her with a degree of frankness which his age and profession might be supposed to authorize. “Well overtaken," said he, "fair lady, will you accept of an old man over the down for your companion? I am too old indeed to promise you much protection; but I trust God will protect us both." There was a certain something in the manner with which Mr. T. said this, that was very attractive, so that the young lady, feeling a strong prepossession in his favour, immediately thanked him, and accepted his company. She expressed much pleasure in his society, and as it appeared they were both going to the same town, they trotted on together. In the course of their conversation, which was about the best things, he told her his name, what a happy village of poor people his was, and how dear the

parishoners were to him. But he avoided saying any thing which might lead her to imagine that their happiness resulted from his bounty, or that his conduct differed from that of his neighbours. When they arrived at the town, and were about to part, Mr. T. acquainted his fellow-traveller with the name of the friend to whose house he was going; expressing, at the same time, his wish that he might see the young lady again.

The young lady was so much pleased with her companion on the road, that the same evening, in the course of conversation with her friends, to whose house she was come upon a visit, she could not help relating the circumstance respecting the very agreeable old clergyman she had met on the road, of the name of Thompson, and with how many pleasant subjects he had entertained her. "Thompson," cried the lady of the house, "I wonder whether he is a relation to the Capt. Thompson we have been so many years inquiring for in vain. I have thirty pound tied up in a bag by my late husband, due to the captain who ordered it to be left till called for. I suppose the captain is long since dead, and his executor, whoever he be, knows nothing of it." "Who can tell," answered the young lady, "whether this Mr. T. may not be the very man? Suppose we send to call him. hither." The lady of the house consented so to do, despatched a servant, requesting the favour of his company, with which the good old man immediately complied.

In the course of conversation, the old lady of the house said, she understood his name was Thompson; and desired to ask him if he knew of a Capt. Thompson who was in the East-India service? "Yes," said the old gentleman, "for he was my brother." And he began to relate such circumstances of him as rendered the matter unquestionable. The lady was rejoiced at the discovery; "For," said she, "my late husband bought a small garden from Capt. T. and the captain hastening to sea before he had received the money, agreed for the purchase, thirty pound was left in his hands, which was put in a bag, waiting the captain's return. But this never took place. And at my husband's death, he left a strict charge to keep the money ready for him whenever he should call."

Mr. Thompson looked amazed at the discovery: his brother having been dead several years, and himself the only surviving relation, and the executor, and residuary legatee to his effects.

The first impression brought upon his mind, so soon as ry the lady of the house put the bag with the thirty pound into his hand, was striking. He could not refrain, before them all, from breaking forth into expressions of devout gratitude to God; and falling upon his knees, with his eyes lifted up, he exclaimed, "Blessed be God! how gracious, how wonderful, thus to provide for my poor people at home! The money will be theirs again." He hastened home to his friend to inform him of what had happened; and so very full was his soul with joy upon this occasion, that as he entered his house, he cried out, "Praise God for ever! Tell it in Gath; publish it in Askelon. Our God is a faithful God." His host was astonished, and, for the moment, thought him deranged. But when Mr. T.'s first paroxysms of joy had somewhat subsided, and he related the event, his friend, as well as himself, found cause to say, "What hath God wrought!"

God seeth not as man sceth.-His footsteps are often in the great deep, and his ways past finding out. But, although clouds and darkness are round about him, righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne. Let his children trust in his providence and grace, assured that what they know not now, they shall know hereafter.

THE GRACE OF GOD MANIFESTED.

MEMOIR OF MISS URSULA MILLWARD, OF EVESHAM, WORCESTERSHIRE, ENGLAND.

In a letter from her father, an itinerant Methodist Preacher, to the Editor of the London Methodist Magazine.

My dear daughter was born at Pool, in Dorsetshire, January 21, 1801. A desire for the salvation of her soul was discoverable in her nearly as soon as reason began to dawn upon her mind. She detested every thing she conceived to be sinful, and would often propose the most important questions respecting God, heaven, and the affairs of another world. Religious subjec were the delightful themes of her conversation, particularly the sermons she heard; and she often made the most pertinent and useful remarks. She manifested an ardent desire for spiritual

instruction, and a comparative indifference to things temporal and momentary. Her understanding was clear, penetrating, and capacious. She possessed, in a high degree, such qualities as engaged the affections of her parents and friends; to the former she was strictly dutiful and affectionate, unwilling to grieve them in the least; and if she had, at any time, which was very rarely the case, she would readily acknowledge her fault, and ask forgiveness: and with respect to the latter, she studied on all occasions to gain their approbation. She stood very high in the esteem of all my friends. Her heart was tender and compassionate, and hence such distressed objects as she could not relieve, she would be ready to weep over. She was very conscientious in spending her time, so that those portions usually allowed for relaxation, she assiduously occupied in improving her mind.When at school, she was eminent for her diligence, teachableness, meekness, and modesty. When she was between six and seven years of age, her good desires greatly increased, and she began to be more frequent and fervent in her private devotions. One morning, being alone, she read the tenth chapter of the gospel by St. Luke, and when she came to the parable of the good Samaritan, the Lord set her soul at liberty, and so filled her with love, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost, that she rejoiced with joy unspeakable and full of glory. She came to her mother, and said, "O mother, how happy I am," and told her the great things which God had done for her. But this ecstacy of joy did not continue long; for in the evening of the same day she complained that her happiness was diminished. Thus depressed, she fled to her God in secret, read over the above-mentioned chapter, and earnestly implored her heavenly Father to reveal himself afresh; he heard her prayer, and granted her a large portion of that happiness which she had recently possessed. From this time she was much engaged in secret devotion, and often deeply and tenderly affected with a sense of the divine goodness. She always chose such times and places for secret duty as might render her least observed by others; and endeavoured, as much as possible, to conceal what she was doing. She abhorred hypocrisy, and doing any thing to be seen of men. She enterained great love to all in general, but to the people of God, and ministers of the gospel in particular. Her attachment to the doctrines and discipline of the Methodists was great and unshakShe was very conversant with the writings of the Rev. Mr.

en.

Wesley and Mr. Fletcher, and highly esteemed them. Her books were her delight, and what she read she laboured to retain and make her own; and she was in the habit of making some useful observations upon what she read. She was very particular in her choice of company, and hence associated with none but such as were truly pious, or piously disposed: the ordinances of God were her delight, especially class-meetings, which she regularly attended with her mother, from her infancy. The sacrament of the Lord's supper also was much blessed to her; she longed for the time of its being administered, and always appeared to renew her strength on such occasions. Indeed she found all the means of grace wells of consolation to her soul.Her concern for the spiritual welfare of others was very great. The miserable condition of those who knew not God affected her much, and she deeply lamented when any of her friends shewed the spirit of indifference to divine things, or conformed to the sinful customs, fashions, and company of the world; and she equally rejoiced when she saw any under divine impressions, and turning from their evil ways.

In September, 1814, she seemed to have entered into a fresh covenant with God, and a visible alteration took place in the whole of her deportment. She became more serious, circumspect, and watchful. The works of God, displayed in nature, providence, and grace; together with death and immortality, were the frequent subjects of her thoughts and conversation.The accounts of the holy lives and happy deaths of pious individuals recorded in the Methodist Magazine, and Janeway's Tokens for Children, were made a great blessing to her. She spent much time in retirement, and it may be truly said that she walked with God. She regularly read a part of the Holy Scriptures every day upon her knees, and well digested what she read, and found it life and health to her soul. Her constitution was always delicate, but the powers of her mind were lively and active, and her disposition generally cheerful.

Upon my return from the Manchester Conference, in August last, I found her rather better in health than she had been for some time, but shortly after she began to complain of shortness of breath; but still we were not apprehensive of danger, and thought that a change of air and exercise would relieve her.This was tried, but alas! the disease, which was an inflammation of the liver, was too deeply rooted, and she became worse