do. I would not have it inferred, that he was bona fide the original of the following portrait. I have reason to believe, that the resemblance is purely accidental; but it so accurately represents his appearance and his manners the former, at this period, so well known to me; and the latter, as they afterwards became known -that I cannot forbear indulging myself by a long quo

tation.

"With him there often walked in friendly guise,
Or lay upon the moss by brook or tree,
A noticeable man, with large grey eyes,
And a pale face, that seemed undoubtedly
As if a blooming face it ought to be:
Heavy his low-hung lip did oft appear,
Deprest by weight of musing phantasy;
Profound his forehead was, though not severe;

Yet some did think that he had little business here.

Sweet heaven forefend! his was a lawful right;
Noisy he was, and gamesome as a boy;

His limbs would toss about him with delight,
Like branches when strong winds the trees annoy.
Nor lacked his calmer hours device or toy
To banish listlessness and irksome care;

He would have taught you how you might employ
Yourself; and many did to him repair,—

And, certes, not in vain; he had inventions rare.

Expedients, too, of simplest sort he tried:
Long blades of grass, plucked round him as he lay,
Made-to his ear attentively applied -

A pipe on which the wind would deftly play;
Glasses he had, that little things display,
The beetle with his radiance manifold,
A mailed angel on a battle day;

And cups of flowers, and herbage green and gold;
And all the gorgeous sights which fairies do behold."

The last two stanzas are, as I have already hinted, a sort of anticipation of the knowledge I afterwards obtained of him. Whilst John Chaloner and I were together, I had only, as I may say, an eye-acquaintance with him. I rarely heard him speak, except at church. He was the curate of our parish, and he was very much beloved by all the parishioners. These were men of lowly estate, but their souls were not the less precious on that account. Surely their pastor valued them at a high rate, for his private exertions in their behalf were as indefatigable as his public exhortations were animated. I was favoured by him so far as to obtain two or three of his manuscripts,

which I intend to forward to John Chaloner, for the use of his friend, if my mite of literature does not furnish the quota of matter required to complete the volume. The name of the Rev. Philip Lumley is a known name; it will give a value to any composition to which it is affixed, as the impression of the royal image gives currency to alloyed or even base metal.

It was a sad day for me and John Chaloner, when he was summoned to London. He had a kinsman, an opulent banker, who offered to take John into his counting-house, on terms too advantageous to be rejected. His parents were grieved to part with him, but they were consoled by the prospect of his welldoing, and they had many other children. What was their grief to mine! Nobody in this wide world was so dear to me as John, and I was too young to look for consolation in the uncertain future. I wept over him, as David and Jonathan

wept over each other. When he was gone, I refused to be comforted; I had no companion no friend -no brother. The half of my enjoyments were totally withdrawn, and the rest were covered with thick gloominess. I ran up the sides of the steepest hill, and lay on its summit, turning away my face from the sky, and calling after my friend. I could not have entered the library at the Priory, for all the wealth of its heir. It was pain to keep away, but I shrunk from the greater pain of going there. I was a boy, but I felt with the strength of a man's sorrows.

Sunday came - I rose in the morning with a cold heart, and I dressed myself with a reluctant hand. We had always spent the sabbath together, and we had been taught, from the first dawn of consciousness, to keep it holy. It had been a day of deep quiet to us; we walked abroad in the most retired glades, and read the volume of inspiration amongst

the hills and amidst the sound of waterfalls, or we mused on the all-pervading Mind that animated the universe; our hearts were written over with mysterious thoughts, and exalted imaginings, of which we ourselves had at that time only a dreamy perception. To minds so framed piety was a natural aliment; eagerly and reverentially we imbibed the truths of the gospel imparted to us at church or school. But most our spirits were imbued by the saintly lore culled from the ancient books in the library at the Priory. We reverenced the Deity, brought down to our understandings by his clothing of humanity, and loved him in his humble character on earth, before we could comprehend his perfect Divinity, or catch the faintest ray of the light that lies upon the skirts of his glory.

I took a hand of Grace and Catherine, and we set out on our way to church. My dear little sisters were equally beloved by me, but on this day it was a plea