quent failures to obtain a situation brought matters to a crisis; and, my friend having represented the case to the bishop of the district, I was introduced to his lordship, who examined my vocation, confirmed it, and, with the greatest kindness, procured admission for me at once into a college on the continent for which I might start, he informed me, as soon as ever I wished.

Thus, I have related, as briefly as I was able, the circumstances which led me into the Church of God. You will see that there was nothing very remarkable about it; and that God, out of compassion no doubt to my weakness, did not call me to bear any of those great trials which have fallen to the lot of so many converts. He made my path as clear as noonday light before my feet, and filled my soul with a burning desire for the holy state to which I ventured to hope that He had called me, all unworthy as I was. Except that I have determined to write as little. about myself as possible, and, especially, in regard to this subject, I could say much to you of the love and boundless gratitude which filled my soul to overflowing, as I now exclaimed with holy David, "My father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord has taken me up;" of the torrent of happiness which inundated me as I thought of all that God had already done for me, and of all that I trusted was yet in store for me.

To be brief, I arranged my little affairs as

quickly as possible. I wrote a full account of all that had taken place to my dear friends, the Morleys, knowing well what joy the news would carry to the heart of her whom I loved as a second mother, and, on the 22nd of October, 18—, I started, with buoyant spirits, for college, to commence my ecclesiastical studies

CHAPTER IV.

I MUST beg you, courteous reader, to suppose a period of some five years to have elapsed since the events recorded in the last chapter took place. I look back to that period of five years with the greatest satisfaction and delight, not unmingled, however, with regret that it so soon passed away, that its holy peace and calm were to be, all too soon, broken in upon by the troubles and the turmoil of more active life. During this period the question of my vocation was decided, and my studies were completed. The long expected and yet dreaded day arrived. I was anointed with the holy oil, the bishop's hand was laid upon my head, and I knew that I was a priest for ever, according to the order of Melchisedech. With more true thankfulness in my heart than I care to try to express in writing, towards God who had so highly favoured me, I turned my back upon my peaceful college home, and set out to begin my active labour in the vineyard of the Lord: conscious, indeed, of my own weakness, painfully conscious how far I was from being all that my vocation supposed me to be, but with a true and earnest will, nevertheless, spite of all my short

comings, to be if not a profitable at least a faithful servant in my Master's household.

I arrived in London somewhat more than five years after I had left it for college. My old friends, the Morleys, were in town, and I need not say that one of my first visits was to them. I had never seen them since my conversion, but I had frequently heard from them-often from Mrs. Morley, sometimes, but more rarely, from my old friend, Charley. I must not omit to mention one remarkable letter, too, which I received from the colonel. When he heard that I was about to embrace the ecclesiastical state, he wrote to me, and, in language strangely earnest for him, besought me to consider well before I took the step, pressing upon me the offers of assistance which he had previously made to me, and going even so far as to say, with many kind and affectionate words, that there was no profession whatever beyond my reach, if I thought fit to change my mind, which again and again he begged of me to do, if I had the slightest inclination so to act, or if I felt the slightest doubt as to the propriety of the step which I was about to take, The tone of his letter was certainly such as to astonish me almost as much as it filled me with gratitude for his kindness towards me. However, my mind had never wavered, and, hence, whilst I thanked him with all the fervour of which I was capable for his generous offers, I begged him to pardon me if I declined them as persistently as

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I had always done, adding, that my mind was quite made up, and that I thought no power on earth would avail to move me from my purpose. Mrs. Morley had written to me after receiving the intelligence of my great change, and the letter she had sent me was so full of Christian piety, so full of devout thankfulness for my conversion, and overflowed with so many expressions of true and tender affection towards me personally, that I had naturally been more drawn to her than ever, and the love, which I had long entertained for her, was increased, if possible, a thousand fold. We had never met since, for the college in which I was studying was very far away from England, and their travels had never led them in the direction in which it was situated; but we had corresponded, as I have already said, regularly. By degrees Mrs. Morley had taken me more and more into her confidence; and, as I drew near to the priesthood, that confidence had assumed a character more and more intimate_I may almost say, sacred. I became the repository of all her troubles-for, alas, troubles had fallen heavily and bitterly upon her gentle and motherly heart and I knew that she was weeping over my poor friend, Charley, even as Monica wept over Augustine, and I was sorely grieved for both their sakes. Nothing that could affect or touch them could be a matter of indifference to me; and, for several years before my ordination, I had known but too well that she had less and less hope of