THE PLAGUE CITY.

CHAPTER III.

(Continued from page 217,-No. 9.)

MR. HOPE made no reply, but a heavy sigh broke from his breast, and the shadow deepened on his countenance. After a short rest, he rose and they resumed their journey. Xeres, a short day's journey from Cadiz was already in sight, when they were met by some people who called out to them to ask whither they were going. As well as he could, Mr. Hope made them understand that they were making their way to Xeres.

"Then turn back at once with us," said one of the men, "for the ties of friendship, nay, of Christian charity between the afflicted city and its more fortunate neighbours, have been broken by the pestilence. We, ourselves, on seeking refuge in Xeres from the death that threatened us at home, were met by showers of stones, and not permitted to enter, though I myself have several relations in the place, and have been frequently a guest there for weeks together."

Meeting with no response, the people proceeded on their way to Cadiz. Mr. Hope in fact was stupified by the news. Almost without money, and feeling every moment more and more the power of the fatal disease, which as his fears too truly foreboded, was to number him among its victims; to advance or retreat seemed equally hopeless. Situated at a short distance from the road side was a large building; towards this he directed his steps. It proved to be a conAfter proceeding a little way, he said to his son: "I can go no further; let us sit down here ;" and, so saying,

vent.

threw himself down beneath a large cork-tree, which grew close by a little chapel, and pressed his burning forehead against the wall.

Johnny, weeping bitterly, stood besides him, and watched with fear and trembling every look and motion of his father. After a little time, during which Mr. Hope had appeared almost in a state of unconsciousness. He aroused himself, and fixing his gaze upon his son, said: "Give me to drink, my dear child, from that well by the chapel." An earthern pitcher, in accordance with the good custom of the country, stood ready for the use of the thirsty traveller; the little boy filled it and brought it to his father. He drank, and was revived somewhat, and motioning to Johnny to kneel down besides him, uttered an earnest prayer and benediction in behalf of the little pilgrim, whom he must leave behind him alone and friendless in a strange land and wicked world. Little Johnny was too young to remember the words which his father, with such trembling earnestness spoke over his head, but a sense of their meaning was impressed upon his mind, and never left him his whole life after.

And these few words, and a letter, written by Mr. Hope the day before to his brother-in-law, and found in his pocket after his death, full of expressions of penitence for his past errors, of deep humiliation before God and man, and of earnest, though trembling trust in his Redeemer, give some reason to hope, that this lost son had been sought and found again, by that loving and merciful Father, whose arms are ever open to receive the returning prodigal.

When Mr. Hope had finished his prayer and his blessing, he said to his son in a faint voice, "Now go, my child, to

that large house upon the Lill, and ask the people to come and feach me for I cannot walk. God, I know, will go with you, and give you an open door, and incline the hearts of these people to attend to you! For truly our need is great, and His help will not be distant!”

The child rose at once, and made his way to the convent; and having knocked at the door, it was opened to him by a monk Little Johnny was totally unable to make his wants known in words, but by signs and tears he gave him to understand that he wished some one to accompany him to the chapel. A few of the kind-hearted monks went with him to the spot where he had left his father; but on their arrival they found that the struggle was already over, and the sins and the sorrows and the sickness of life were at an end.

Poor little Johnny! It would take me too long to tell all his tears and all his grief, when he learnt that his father was indeed dead, and that he was alone and desolate. The monks were very kind to him, and took him with them to their convent, removing him as quickly as possible, though not without much difficulty from the dead body of his father, for the poor child felt as if he would rather lie down besides him in the grave, than be separated from him for ever. Besides he was very much frightened of the monks, their strange dress and grave looks, and the gloomy appearance of every thing in the convent alarmed and troubled him beyond measure; and his being left to sleep alone in a dark, narrow cell, completed his distress. The next day he ran away from the convent, and would probably have fallen into new dangers, or been lost altogether, and have perished of hunger, but

for the following circumstance. Tired out by running and the heat of the day, he had fallen asleep among some bushes, a piece of bread that he had been eating still in his hand, when he was awoke by something touching him, and saw a dog on the point of stealing his piece of bread. Near the dog, however, was its master, who, hearing the cry which Johnny set up in his fright, drew near, and was not a little surprised to see a child, evidently an English child, alone in that strange place. For the new-comer was himself an Englishman, the captain of a ship then lying in the harbour of Cadiz.

The captain was a kind man. He questioned Johnny, and soon learnt as much of his story as the poor child could give him. But not satisfied with this, he went to the convent, to inquire whether no papers had been found upon the deceased, and thus became possessed of the letter beforementioned, and other papers, showing who and what Mr. Hope had been, and where he had come from. Then the captain decided to take little Johnny back with him to England, and deliver him up to his father's relations.

He did so, and beneath their care, Johnny Hope grew up a good and pious man, following in the steps of his excellent grandfather, and gilding even the memory of his father's errors and misfortunes, with the light reflected from his own virtuous and happy life. He had indeed his share of sorrow, and hardship, and trials, particularly in his early youth, but the blessing of his dying parents was upon him, and the God whom they trusted was the friend, and comforter, and the protector of their orphan child.

H. E.

THE LORD'S PRAYER PARAPHRASED.

For That is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory, for eber and ever. Amen.

Ws belliere, O God, (help Thou our unbelief,) that Thou wikt grant our requests.

For Thine is the Kingdom. The whole Church below, and the whole Heavens above are under Thy Government: therefore Thou wilt listen to the Prayers of Thy loyal subjects. Thou wilt help and protect them.

And the Power. Thou canst grant all and more than we ask or think, for Thou art Almighty to relieve and bless us. And the Glory Thine, O God, is the glory, of Creating, of Redeeming, and of Sanetifying Thy creatures, to whom Thou has given the privilege of bearing forth much fruit of holiness, to contribute to Thy Glory.

For ever and ever. Thou art the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. The Kingdom, Power, and Glory of earthly Princes fade away; Thine was without beginning, and shall be without end. Therefore, by me and by every one who atters this Prayer, to Thee, Lord, who art blessed for evermore; to the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, be ascribed and rendered all Blessing, and Glory, and Wisdom, and Thanksgiving, and Honour, and Power, and Might, to all eternity.

Amrn. For the sake, O Heavenly Father, of Thy beloved Son, in Whom all "Thy promises are Amen," and who is Himself "the Amen, the faithful and true witness" of Thy love to us; hear me, and pardon my wanderings and coldness, and help me to sum up and enforce my whole Prayer, all my own wants, and the wants of those I pray for, in a hearty, fervent, and comprehensive Amen. This is the Prayer which Thy beloved Son hath taught me. For His sake grant that it may be answered; and as I trust that Thou will do this of Thy mercy and goodness, in humble hope, and with lively faith, again I say, Amen. So be it. PRESBYTER.