thoughtful life had won him the favour of all. I also found that no day passed without his master, Grey, going to see him; and that if no other friend had supplied his dinner, it was always sent from their own joint of meat.

I went to Grey to ask him more particulars of his poor charge, and whether he thought he would like me to go and see him and to read to him. He said, "That I am sure he would, Ma'am, and the old man too would be pleased; I will show you the way there now, if you like." We soon entered one of the cleanest cottages I have ever seen; although in a little narrow court in a crowded town, yet it was as neat and nice as possible; the walls were white and clean; the crockery-ware and the pewter candlesticks shining, and the kettle boiling on the little fire in preparation for tea. And yet its inhabitants were very aged,-White eighty-six, his wife eleven years younger; but habits of order and propriety were pleasant to them; and even while living on a parish allowance, and the trifle paid by William for his lodging, they were comfortable and worthy of respect.

Poor William was sitting by the fire, supported by pillows; the hectic flush on his pale face, his thin long fingers, and his dreadful cough, too surely confirmed all I had heard about his impending danger. I could only hope he was prepared for the great and awful change, and willing to meet death; and this I found to be the case he was humbly and stedfastly trusting in the merits of his Saviour, to obtain the pardon of all his transgressions, and he longed to reach the peaceful home "where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." The old man and his wife seemed to watch him as kindly as if he had been a child of their own, and to be as fondly interested in him.

I did not stay long with him, for he was so weak that even listening to conversation around him seemed to fatigue him; but I saw him two or three times afterwards, and on one evening I was reading to him from "Hele's Devotions," which I have ever found to give interest and comfort to sufferers, the portion selected for Tuesday: when I read (Job xiv. 2), "He cometh forth like

a flower, and is cut down; he fleeth also as a shadow and continueth not;" old White remarked, "This verse just describes poor William; he is cut down like a flower, for he is quite in the spring of his youth; and yet he is cut down, and will soon be withered away." I could not but remark how superior our state, through God's mercy, is to the flowers; for though they bloom so beautifully, and are so sweet for a time, yet when they are cut down there is an end of them; they return to the dust from which they sprang, and they appear no more; while our happy portion, we humbly hope, will be, through the pardon purchased for us by our Saviour, to rise again in a more glorious body; to be far removed from the cares, and sorrows, and temptations of this life; to look back upon them all, as a dream from which we have awakened, to be made partakers of a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens; where we shall be for ever in the company of angels and saints, enjoying the presence of the Almighty Creator, Saviour, and Comforter of the world.

Poor William listened to what I said, and then said that such thoughts as these, and belief and trust in his Saviour for acceptance, always comforted him; and after reading the prayer for "the forgiveness of sins and a happy death," I left him.

The next morning I heard he was dead! Only three hours after I had left him, he had tried to go up to bed, fallen back in his old friend's arms, and peacefully breathed his last, saying, "I am happy, quite happy in Christ." I felt thankful that his sufferings were over; for ill as he was, I had not expected so speedy a termination of them, and I trust he is at peace and saved through the merits of that Saviour, in whom he stedfastly believed, and who alone can soothe the pains of sickness, tranquillize the bed of the sufferer, and take the sting from death.

May this simple and perfectly true story lead those who read it to reflect on it, to meditate on their own lives and conduct, and to think if they could meet death as peacefully as William Jacobs. The one who appears to be the strongest among us may be as speedily re

moved; nay, more so, for too frequently does sudden death enter, among us, and cut down in one moment, without leaving time for thought and repentance, alike the strong man, the blooming girl, and the more aged form of some one who has before never known illness, Truly "it is appointed unto man once to die," and no one can tell how soon or how suddenly the awful summons may come; but if our peace is made with God through Jesus Christ, if we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, and laying aside every weight, and the sin that does most easily beset us, run with patience the race that is set before us, and press towards the mark for the prize of our high calling in Christ Jesus, we need never fear death; rather we shall welcome its approach, and look upon it as our passage to a better country, that is an heavenly, and we shall be glad and thankful when our summons comes, to pass the waves of this troublesome world, and to reach the haven where we would be.—C.

INDIAN CORN.

SIR, I have been a reader of your book from the beginning, and I often find that you give us a useful bit of advice. They tell us, Sir, that potatoes will be very scarce and dear, and I partly believe it. It is very handy to have a heap of potatoes to go to, without paying any thing; and this has brought many people to trust to potatoes, and to get little or no food besides, especially in Ireland. But I am thinking what the poor Irish people will do, or the poor English either, if they have no potatoes to go to. I remember, when I was a boy, my father used to grow Indian Corn in his garden, and we children were fond of picking the grains and eating them; we were told that very good flour could be made out of this Indian Corn: I suppose it is what they call maize now. Potatoes are very good and useful things; but I have often thought that it was a great pity that something could not be thought of, that might be got as cheap as we can grow potatoes, and which might be quite as nourishing. I am told that the people in America live a great deal upon Indian Corn,

and they say that the children and grown people thrive well upon it; they can make it into cakes, and puddings, and bread. They say, that if it come from America to England duty free, it may be sold after it is ground into meal for about 4s. 4d. per bushel, which is less than one penny per pound, if a bushel weighs fifty-eight pounds. They say that the Americans are very fond of it, when made into hasty puddings, and that it swells greatly in the boiling, and makes a capital meal for a family; and, if a little milk and sugar, or butter, can be added, the children get a meal that does them good, and pleases them much. They tell me that it makes a very good breakfast, and that one pound of this maize flour, with milk, will make a breakfast for four people; and many people get so fond of it, after a little time, that they are glad to have it for breakfast, dinner, and supper. I don't know much about the matter, Sir, and can only tell what I have heard of or read of; but I think, if the poor people in Ireland or England could get some of this maize flour, it would be a great help whilst potatoes are so scarce; and it might, at any time, be a good change. I often think that we get so used to particular kinds of food and drink, as to fancy there is no doing without them. People live in countries where there are no potatoes, and where there is no beer; and we might think that they would starve; but they don't starve. And how did we manage in England before potatoes were even known in this land? They came over from America first; but English people had till that time lived very well without them; and I think it would be well to consider how they could get on if potatoes could not be had. If some other cheap food could be got, it would be a great thing for the poor Irish. If large quantities of flour from the Indian Corn could be brought into Ireland, it would be a great help. But then it is of no use having plenty of food, if the people have no money to buy it. It would be a great matter to find work for the Irish labourers; and then they could buy the food after they had earned the money. I suppose some such plan as this will be tried: and if the people find that there are other good kinds of food besides potatoes, it

may be useful to them at other seasons besides this. They tell me, that in America, puddings and cakes, and all sorts of good things, are made of the Indian Corn. E. S.

"SOMETHING TO DRINK."

"I HOPE, Sir, you will give us something to drink." This is the way of a labouring man, when he asks for a little gift from a person who he thinks would be willing to oblige him, or to whom he has given a few minutes' help in any little matter that was going on. A gentleman's horse, perhaps, has got away, and a man helps to catch him, or he has helped to tie up a piece of broken tackle, or opened a gate, or any other little matter that has taken up a few minutes of time, and in which a goodnatured fellow has been glad to lend a hand, and he does not want to be paid. Poor people are constantly helping one another in this way, and do not look for any pay. But when a person who can afford to pay gets some such little help, he is generally willing to pay for it. But if he asks what he should give, the answer is, "O Sir! only something to drink.” One would suppose, that a poor man was always wanting "something to drink," always thirsty; and it very often is so, for his work makes him to want some such refreshment: but then, if ten people, one after another, were to offer him something to drink, he would be ready to take it; in truth, the drink only leads him to wish for more; it makes a sort of fever, and he is constantly dry: a man then gets a habit of drinking; he is always ready to drink; and this is a practice the most ruinous to a poor man that can be conceived: he is never in a right state of mind, never in a thinking, reflecting state of mind; never in a state in which a man ought to be, who is accountable for the use of his reason, and who has a soul to be saved, or to be lost, and who is sent into this world to become prepared, under God's guidance, by a holy course of life, to live in heaven when he leaves this world. But a drinking besotted man is unfit for heaven, and unlike a reasonable being here upon earth. What misery he brings upon his family! How can he bring