wonderful triumph transfigured for a moment the worn, weary face. Four times in succession, with a pause between, this expressive action was repeated, and the fourth time the bystanders caught the whisper, "Glory! glory! glory!"

On the morning of the 21st his relatives and friends. were hastily summoned to his bedside. The scene was one which those present will not soon forget. Without, the quiet of the Sabbath morning was resting upon earth and sky; the birds, which the kindly old man had so lately. loved to watch in the ivy-covered trees opposite his windows, were singing gaily in the sunshine; the soft breath of spring came in at the open casement. Within, eight silent watchers were waiting in reverent stillness, listening to the short but regular breathing of the dying, and momentarily expecting it to cease. An atmosphere of solemn peace pervaded the low-roofed chamber. So the hours went by; until about half-an-hour past noon, just as the subdued sound of voices and footsteps of the villagers returning from service at the little church on the hill close by were heard beneath the window, slowly and quietly the end came. For him earth's Sabbaths were over; he had entered on the eternal Sabbath above.

Five days later, in the ancient burial-ground at Ettington, overshadowed by the great Warwickshire elms, opposite the entrance of the little meeting-house where his voice had so often been heard in prayer and exhortation, and whose grey, ivy-covered walls date their erection back to the days of the founders of the religious community to which he loved to belong, were committed to the earth, in appropriate resting-place, the mortal remains of that patriarchal minister, who in life had so fittingly combined the solemn reverence, the pietism, and the simplicity of the older Quakerism with the wider sympathies and activities of the new. From far and near, friends and neighbours gathered round to pay the last tribute of respect, and solemn testimonies were borne by Jonathan