ever again indulge in the amusement. Some may regard this as asceticism, and so it might be in this favoured land; but in India at that time the Christian had to throw away every weight, and journey on in light marching order.

From 1832 till his death in 1864, Colonel Wheler laid himself on the altar of Christ with an unreservedness and self-denial, which are best described not as apostolic, but as Christlike. He may not have been, probably was not, much of a theologian, but he was, what a governor

general once called Havelock, "every inch a Christian." How he spent his strength and his substance "in labours above measure," our readers will find in the Memoir before us, Bishop Daniel Wilson used to say, "If every one of his countrymen was like Colonel Wheler, he would have ten thousand missionaries." And Major Conran adds, " Yes, and if every regiment had possessed such a commanding officer, there would never have been a mutiny of the Bengal native army."

following Sunday evening he occupied the same seat, and, in the course of the service, seemed more moved than on the previous occasion. That night I resolved to search him out during the week, but, ere I sallied forth, on the Monday morning, on my usual weekly round of visitation, I received from him a request, through a mutual friend, that I would grant him an interview. To this, of course, I readily assented, and the day following he came to my house. Never

shall I forget that morning. Speechless and trembling with emotion, he took me by the hand, whilst tears literally filled the furrows of his cheeks, which were unusually deep. Often he renewed the effort to make known his heart-sorrow, but as often would new paroxysms of grief stifle all utterance; till at last I became alarmed lest his physical or mental powers, or both, should give way. Ultimately, however, he became more calm, and I found him a deeply convicted sinner, seeking an all-sufficient Saviour.

The remarkable history of that man, I will briefly relate, as I afterwards received it from his own lips.

He was born of God-fearing parents in Spitalfields, who belonged to the artisan class with which that district abounded, and, as already intimated, about three quarters of a

century ago. His father had seen, and heard, and conversed with John Wesley, and had caught and retained to the last some of the religious fervour that followed in his train wherever he went. As the son grew up, he, however, was caught in the meshes of scepticism, and soon, therefore, deemed it manly to throw off the restraints of religion and of home. About that time, the silk-weaving trade began to decline, and this youth, with several of his companions, entered the mercantile service and went to sea. Whilst thus engaged he suffered many hardships, and had many narrow escapes with his life. On one occasion, he fell from the mainmast, and was taken up as dead; but, said he, "I was miraculously restored, for the Lord had need of me." His last voyage, which was to the coast of Africa, proved most disastrous. Once, a fire nearly destroyed them and their ship, so that they were delayed many months for repairs; and then they were no sooner on their way again, than that fearful scourge, the yellow fever, broke out on board, and greatly reduced the crew. Among those who fell victims to the malady were the captain and his mate, who, when dying, committed the command of the ship to the hero of our narrative. After a few weeks' fair sailing, a storm arose, and the vessel was driven ashore on a most unhealthy and inhospitable part of the African coast. Here, again, the pestilence attacked them, still further reducing their number, and laying prostrate for weeks the newly-made captain. Gradually he was restored, but the miseries endured for months by the survivors, and the fearful straits to

which they were reduced for sustenance, are too harrowing to relate. The signal fires they kept burning, night and day, seemed to no purpose, and despair seized them. At length, in the early dawn of what proved to be the day of their deliverance, they espied a vessel signalling in return. It gradually approached their coast. Boats were lowered and sent ashore. A few men landed, ascertained their circumstances, and, having returned to their ship, came back again with provision and help, and thus they were soon again on their way to the desired haven. They reached the port in safety, and, having delivered their cargo, and partly freighted their ship again, safely and quickly returned home, though under the command of so young and inexperienced a captain, and a crew in every way so unequal to their task. Gladly would the owner have retained the services of our youthful mariner, but he had had enough of a seafaring life, and therefore resolved to try his fortune again at Spitalfields weaving.

And now, another trial awaited him. During his absence, his pious mother, with a prayer on her lips for her sailor boy, had departed to be with Christ. The tears that rolled down his cheeks as he crossed the threshold of his childhood, and learnt for the first time the sad tidings, as he saw the old arm-chair vacant, and asked for its former occupant, revealed the fact, that there was still left a chord which would vibrate when touched by a gentle hand, with the fullest sentiments of our nature.

Not long after his return, and almost before he had recovered from

the shock which the news of his mother's death had given him, the old man, his father, began to sicken. During a long and severe winter he suffered much, but not a murmur escaped his lips. Faithfully and tenderly the son watched and nursed him by night and by day, often witnessing his unshaken trust in God, and hearing the aged the aged disciple "rejoice, in hope of the glory of God." As spring came round, and nature put on her resurrection dress, and the birds began to warble their Creator's praise, the good old man dropped his mortal garment, and, in the presence of his son, with a song of triumph on his lips, passed within the veil.

Now came an important crisis in the young man's life, and one in which the hand of God was strikingly visible. Soon after the father's death, he became acquainted with some men of sceptical minds and loose manners, and speedily drank in their opinions. Among these

were the men who suffered in what is known as "The Thistlewood Conspiracy," a conspiracy formed a few days after the accession to the throne of George IV.-whose object it was to murder the Ministers of State, break open the prisons of London, and accomplish a Revolution. The diabolical design was, however, frustrated by the apprehension of the leaders, in a hay-loft, in Cato street, on the very evening fixed for the commission of the crime. Thistlewood and four others were executed; the rest were transported. With shuddering emotion, I heard the subject of our narrative say, God who kept me out of that hayloft, and perhaps saved my neck from

"It was

that gallows." The deliverance was brought about in this way. The gang I have referred to, went in twos or threes on Sunday afternoons to lecture on infidelity. On one occasion, the first speaker ridiculed, and made the subject of much laughter, what he was pleased to term "the happy death-bed theory." This was too much for his companion, who had so lately stood by his father's dying-bed, and been impressed with his joyousness when in the very grasp of "the last enemy," and, as he had next to speak, he took the opportunity of informing his audience, that, although he did not accept a happy death-bed as evidence of the truth of Christianity, yet, after all, such an one as he had lately witnessed was not a thing to be laughed at. Some angry words followed, and he left. A few days afterwards, the scoffer was arrested in the hay-loft, and ultimately executed or transported. From that time, infidel associates were shunned, but not till long after were infidel opinions renounced.

He was now engaged by a most respectable firm in this city, and in their employ continued till his death, enjoying the confidence of all, as an upright and trustworthy servant. He married, and it pleased the God of all grace to bring his wife to a knowledge of the truth. His strong attachment to her induced him for years to accompany her to the house of God, but no saving impression was made on his mind. At length, she being removed from him by death, various dissensions among those with whom she worshipped became to him an excuse for abandoning altogether any observance of the Lord's-day. It was at this juncture that I was called

to exercise my ministry in the timehonoured sanctuary in which, on the occasion referred to, I first saw my attentive listener. Reports connected with my settlement, which had induced me to publish a little volume of lectures, had reached his ear; and having inquired concerning me of a member of my church, who was in the same establishment with him, the book was put into his hands, and, thanks be to God, was the means of inducing him to come and "hear words whereby he might be saved." His deep conviction of sin I have already detailed. His conversion followed, and, having given himself to the Lord, he gave himself to His people, and often have I heard him, with tears and deep emotion, speak with wonder of the forbearance of God, and "the exceeding riches of His grace."

An accident, at length, laid him upon a bed of suffering, which proved the bed of death, and he passed away from our midst to join, we believe, his sainted parents in glory. After his death, a brown paper parcel was

sent me, which he had strictly enjoined was to be opened by none else. It contained the books by the arguments of which he had, forty years before, fortified his mind against the truths of Christianity, but in the margin of which he had, in his old age, inserted the arguments whose force and truth he had felt to be too mighty for Tom Paine's "Age of Reason," or any other publication of a like kind.

Christian parents, take courage! Pray in faith. Let your light shine. Be assured, that

"Though seed lie buried long in dust,
It shan't deceive your hope;
The precious grain can ne'er be lost,
For grace ensures the crop."

By the Reb. Palmer

WHILST that sable goddess-Nightwas holding sway, and man, and beast, and bird, and creeping thing, in obedience to her authority, were silent and still-I dreamed. My slumbers were somewhat disturbed, both by reason of the dream itself, and for want of making out the interpretation thereof. It seemed as though a stranger knocked at my door, and asked if I would like to accompany him, as he could reveal

Law, Ware, Herts.

things that would be much to my advantage.

At first I was rather alarmed, and wished that the stranger had not taken the liberty, as I thought it, of visiting me at so unseasonable an hour. But there was something so benign in his countenance, and he spake so lovingly, that I felt that I could do no other than comply. Dressing myself as quickly as possible, we soon found our way out of

the house. On and on we walked, until we arrived at, what seemed to me, a large and flourishing city.

"Take notice of everything you see," said my companion, "and especially of anything that may appear of more than ordinary interest."

Scarcely had he uttered these words when my attention was arrested by a large gate, around which crowds of people were standing. It was massive and high, so that no man could climb over it, and neither could any man force it. No one could open it, saving him who had the keys thereof in his hand. I noticed that some people were trying to look through it, and that every now and then one and another cried out in the greatest ecstacy, declaring that, through certain little pin-holes said to exist in the gate, they had seen what was on the other side. However, I found that scarcely anyone believed them, and that they were much laughed at for their credulity.

Now these people who stood crowding around the gate, for the most part, had upon their heads diadems, very dazzling and very beautiful; they were of a most costly description. They had put them on that very evening, and I must say that the diadems made their appearance quite angelic.

Turning to my stranger visitant, I said, "Sir, I should like to have such a diadem placed upon my head; besides, they seem so generally worn, that it makes me look peculiar not to possess one. Can you tell me whence, and how, they are obtained?"

"My friend," said the stranger, "I must desire that you will wait awhile. Your duty now is to pay attention to what is taking place."

The rebuke caused me to feel rather crestfallen. Still I made the best of it, and acted upon the instructions given. Presently the assembled multitude became silent. Not a voice broke the silence. What was to take place I could not, for the moment, divine. My

VOL III.-NEW SERIES.

"Indeed, Sir," I replied; "I shall be only too glad to avail myself of the privilege you offer. Never before did I see such a thrilling sight; never before did I enjoy such companionship as yours."

So we proceeded to pass within this mysterious gate. I was looking at it, and musing upon it, and upon him who opened it, when my foot stumbled at something that lay upon the ground. You may imagine my surprise at finding that I had stumbled against a very beautiful diadem.

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Sir," said I to my angel friend, can you tell me how this precious treasure could have come here?"

"By and by," answered the angel, "you may seek from me any information you please. For the present, my advice is, Take notice!"

I came to the conclusion that some individual in the throng had lost it, and I therefore determined to pick it up, and to restore it to its original possessor. My perplexity was great when, upon stooping for the purpose, I found that I could not pick it up. It appeared to be broken into a thousand fragments, and when I tried to lay hold of the brilliants with which it was adorned, I failed to do so.

Presently I saw another diadem lying on the road, and then another, and another, and another still, until the pathway was completely covered with them. Some seemed almost entire, whilst others were shattered to pieces.

I determined, with the permission of the angel, to press forward, and to try to overtake the people, and to ascertain,

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