a balm upon his wounded mind. He rose from his knees more composed and comforted. His neighbours saw, with surprise, the excessive grief of the old cottager; for they had expected, from his general conduct towards his wife, that her death would be regarded as a matter of indifference by him. She was soon consigned to her earthly bed, followed by her weeping and repentant husband. He entered the church for the first time, upon this awful occasion, for many years. The solemn and beautiful Service for the Dead struck deep upon his heart, and when the grassy sod shut out from his streamingeyes the last mortal remains of her, whom he had so deeply injured, he bent his head upon her grave, and resolved from that moment to dedicate the remainder of his life to a sincere and deep repent ance. In a few weeks the change in the old man's conduct was visible. The return of the Sabbath was no longer beheld by him with indifference. He hastened at the sound of the village bells to climb the steep ascent that led to the church, and entered the house of GOD, divested of all worldly thoughts. His aged eyes were fixed upon the Minister, and he joined with the greatest fervour in the prayers of the church; and when the Pastor spoke in his sermon of the unbounded goodness of God, that mercy was his great attribute, and that he desired "not the death of a sinner, but rather that he may turn from his wickedness and live," the poor old man, with uplifted eyes to Heaven, felt comforted by these consoling promises; and it was impossible to see him leave the church, bending upon his staff, with contrition and meekness painted upon his countenance, without adoring that Power, which stretches forth its hand to save and to guide repentant sinners. The Pastor of the village, who resided constantly upon his living, and was frequent in his calls upon his poor parishioners, relieving some, and comforting others, observed with peculiar delight the great change that had taken place in the conduct of the old man. He often visited him in his lowly abode; strengthened his hopes by pointing out to him those passages in the Bible, which spoke of the mercies and kindness of GOD, who had given his only Son to die for our sins, and to open the gates of mercy for repentant sinners. The old cottager soon found what comfort the study of the Holy Scriptures afforded him. It had quieted his restless and selfish spirit, and made him meek and lowly of heart. The awful event that had so suddenly awakened him to a sense of his lost condition was continually present to his mind; and when he looked back upon the number of years he had spent in so unprofitable a manner, he shuddered at the thoughts of having so long been upon the very brink of a precipice, and from which he was almost miraculously withdrawn. He read over and over again the eleventh chapter of St. Matthew; the three concluding verses were imprinted upon his mind, and he found how true those beautiful sentiments of our Saviour are, when he says, "Come unto me all ye that labour, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light." The old man found the advantage of having been taught to read in his youth, though he felt bitterly how little he had profited by this advantage; and he had less excuse, for he lived in a village where the religious instruction of the poor is particularly attended to. However, there is every reason to suppose he would have gone on to the end of his days, without the thought of the future, had not death, in its most awful form, shown him how vain and transitory are all things here below. Sometimes the aged penitent would sit at his cottage door, watching the last rays of the departing sun; his mind would be lifted up above the transitory scenes of earth; he thought of her whose mortal remains lay in a cold and narrow bed, but whose spirit he trusted was now above, and permitted to witness his sincere repentance; and that he, in God's good time, should be a sharer of her felicity. With these thoughts and prayers the day generally began and ended. One evening, when the Clergyman was returning from visiting one of his flock, he called in upon the old man, and found him weeping bitterly; upon enquiring the cause, he was told that the parish officers had given him notice to quit his cottage. He had lived in this old ruined place upwards of forty years; and so strong is local attachment in the human heart, that though the aged man was told he should be put in a much more comfortable habitation in the same village, yet the parting from the cottage seemed to him like the parting from an old friend, with whom we had passed our life, and from whom we were suddenly to be severed for ever. The daughter was also looking very mournfully; but seeing her father so afflicted, had not disclosed to him the cause of her sorrow. Following the Clergyman a few steps from the door, she told him the parish officers talked of separating her from her aged parent. The Pastor bid her be comforted, and said he would make some arrangements that would prevent this distressing event taking place. Upon enquiry he found that the old ruined cottage, when repaired, was adapted for a large family; and that a comfortable abode was to be allotted to the aged man in its room. At the entreaty of the Minister the separation from the daughter was given up, and he went himself to the cottage to announce the arrangement. In the mean time the poor girl had informed her father of the threatened evil, which appeared so much greater a deprivation than the loss of his old house, that when he heard that, through the kind intercession of the Minister, his child was still to live with him, he cheerfully acceded to his departure, which took place on the following day. When he with slow and trembling steps turned to close the wicket after him, and look upon the cottage which he had slept in for the last time, he could not refrain his tears; and continued, as he mounted the hill, to turn his head and gaze at his ancient abode, till a winding path, which led to his new habitation, shut it out from his view. From the story of the old man we may draw many useful reflections. And first, let it be remembered that sobriety is one of the greatest preservatives from evil. When that barrier is removed, vices of many descriptions find an easy inroad to our hearts. By attentively examining the Scriptures, in many places in them we shall see what detestation the vice of drunkenness was held in. Solomon says in his Proverbs, that "the drunkard shall come to poverty; and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags." And in Jeremiah we find that it is one of God's denunciations against a rebellious people. The old man, whose history I have related, dates most of his vices from this cause. It hardened his heart, and shut out all those tender feelings which connect man with his fellow creatures; it made him look with indifference upon the distresses of a feeble wife and helpless family; and in short, by gradual degrees, brought him to the very brink of destruction. Let the young learn from this story, that vice, with all its allurements, has not the power of conferring, even in its gratifications, the enjoyment which sobriety, prudence, and, above all, religious feelings give. Let those whom fast-stealing years remind that they are hastening to that period, so beautifully illustrated by Solomon in Ecclesiastes, "when they shall be afraid of that which is high, and fears shall be in their way, and the almond tree shall flourish, and the grashopper shall be a burden, and desire shall fail: because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern: then shall the dust return to the earth as it was; and the spirit shall return to GoD who gave it." Learn from the example of the aged cottager the heartfelt blessing that repentance bestows. It can be seen in his humble and resigned looks; it can be seen in his respect to his superiors; in his constant attendance at church, and his devout conduct there; in his resignation and meekness under all the ills attendant upon poverty and old age. He will tell the enquiring stranger with truth and simplicity that he derived more inward satisfaction from the comforts afforded by a steady perseverance in the paths of virtue, than he ever found from any of the gratifications of sin. But let it be remembered what infinite sorrow and distress of mind the poor cottager would have been spared, had he, before the weight of years pressed upon him, and before the grave closed upon his wife, set about this work of repentance. how many bitter pangs of conscience he would have escaped, had he "remembered his Creator in the days of his youth; while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them." And The following Epitaph was written by the Clergyman of the parish, where the Old Cottager resided, upon a most respectable Inhabitant, who was thrown from his horse, and found dead the next morning. While mute affection bends beside thy bier, When fortune came, nor avarice, nor pride, |