The scope of this narrative.

cious, and endeared to our hearts the glorious Saviour, and to urge us onward with a livelier zeal, and a holier earnestness, in "the race set before us."

The following sketch, it is hoped, will partake in some degree of this character. The facts here recorded tend incidentally to illustrate the advantages of one of the arrangements connected with a branch of the Christian church. They, however, have a higher bearing than this. They show the value of family religion, evince the power of a well-founded hope in Christ, and are so many new attestations to the truth of God's promises. It is therefore the sincere and ardent prayer of the writer, that this little narrative may not only hold up to the view of all Christians the spirituality and excellency of the liturgy of the church which he loves, but may contribute in some small degree to advance the great interests of the Redeemer's kingdom, and hasten on that happy period, when "the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills; and all nations shall flow unto it."

It was during the summer of 1826, in the lovely month of June, that I was first led to visit the spot with which the scenes of the present narrative are associated. I was then acting as a missionary in a large county, where, previous to my occupancy of the field, there was not a single organized Episcopal congregation, with the exception of the one to which the M'Ellen family were attached. That had been organized a short time before I entered upon this field, and constituted one of the stations where I held regular and stated service.

I

I had just commenced my ministry. Perhaps there was connected with my feelings some of the ardour and unwarranted expectation of young Melancthon. If so, trust like him the error in my mind arose from the belief, that the love of Christ which had subdued my soul, would master the most stubborn heart and bring it into sweet subjection to the divine will. To preach the reconciling

Early history of the M'Ellens.

word, appeared to me more delightful and glorious than any employment this side of heaven.

At the close of a service, held in the little and newly gathered parish, with which the M'Ellen family were connected, Mr. Robert M'Ellen came to me and said,

"You will greatly oblige me, if you will consent to preach this evening at five o'clock, at my house, about three miles distant."

"Most cheerfully will I do it," was the reply.

" he

"The special reason why I make this request," remarked, “is, that I have an aged mother, who on account of her feeble and infirm health, and the distance we live from here, is unable to enjoy the privileges of the sanctuary. She is now," he added, "nearly eighty years old, but still retains her mental faculties vigorous and unimpaired."

It was in complying with this request of Mr. M'Ellen, that I witnessed one of the most interesting and affecting scenes, that ever came within my knowledge. Many years have since elapsed-trials and sorrows have met me in my journey-great mercies have been strown around my path-life wears a different aspect before me now from what it then did; yet this scene lives fresh and vivid in my memory, as though it were but yesterday that I witnessedit. I must not, however, proceed to the delineation, until I have acquainted the reader with the previous history of this family of the M'Ellens.

Joseph M'Ellen was born in one of the Atlantic States, and reared up under a strict religious discipline. At the very outset in life, he bore a high character for integrity and manly virtue. He also, as it is believed, became early

a subject of God's transforming grace. He had for many years been attached to a young lovely girl, nearly of his own age. The desire of his heart was now gratified in the possession of Elizabeth Munson, as his own wedded wife. They were both the children of farmers, and they expected to spend their days in agricultural pursuits.

Emigration to the west.

Their means however were slender, and the unsettled lands of the west presented many attractions. They determined to emigrate. They soon carried their resolution into effect, and found themselves in a new country, where they had to encounter many hardships, and submit to many privations. This, however, they did cheerfully, as they were living in the hope of seeing better days. To Joseph M.Ellen these hopes were never realized on earth. A few years only had elapsed, and he fell a victim to one of those fevers to which all new countries are subject. His two eldest sons, Robert and Joseph, could hardly be said, at this time, to have entered upon manhood. Upon them, however, devolved the business of paying for their land, and clearing away the thick forest that covered it. In this they were aided not a little by the counsel of their mother, Elizabeth M'Ellen. She was ever solicitous to form her children to habits of industry, but far more anxious to form their minds to habits of piety.

As I have before intimated, Mr. M'Ellen had consecrated himself to the Lord in early life; and she who had long shared his affections, was not a stranger to the cross of Christ. In this they were happily united. They both loved the Saviour, and they were both warmly attached to the Episcopal church. This was the church of their choice. Educated in the bosom of another denomination of Christians, they had attached themselves to this, from a conviction of the soundness of its doctrines, the apostolic character of its ministry, and the spirituality of its liturgy.

In leaving the place of their nativity, and taking up their abode in a new and thinly settled country, they were necessarily deprived of a privilege which the Episcopalian esteems the greatest of all earthly privileges, the services of his own church. They did not so feel this privation, until they had arrived at their log-house, and the blessed day of rest found them in the midst of a dense forest. On the morning of the first Sabbath after having taken possession of their new residence, when according to their former

Worship in a log room.

custom, every member of the family appeared in clean and comely apparel, the greatness of this privation began to be felt.

"I fear," said Mrs. M'Ellen, "in taking the step we have, we have not fully estimated the loss of privileges that we shall sustain. How are we to spend our Sundays?" "Of that I have thought much," said Mr. M'Ellen, "and in my reflections upon this subject, I have discovered an additional reason for increased attachment to the Episcopal church. We have our Prayer Books with us; we can therefore always have the regular service of the church, and on Sundays we will turn our little log-room into a chapel."

This proposition was immediately put into execution, and the service was invariably and uniformly read on Sundays, and all the children taught to join and take their several parts in it, until the sickness and death of Mr. M'Ellen. A most interesting scene was witnessed the next Sunday after the death of this worthy man, who like the patriarch of old had been to his family both a father and a priest.

I can in no way give you a better idea of it, than by repeating the narration which I received from Robert M'Ellen, who was one of the actors in this scene. This interesting

narration was as follows.

"The children were all neatly clad and seated around the room with their Prayer Books. Every thing appeared as it used to, when my father was alive. The little cherry stand stood where it always had, on a Sunday morning. Upon it were laid the large Bible and Prayer Book. My mother had been absent for some half an hour, and, as I supposed, was attending to some necessary domestic conI sat wondering who would fill my father's place. At length my mother entered the room, and, covered with weeds of mourning, proceeded to the little stand and kneeled down before it. We were all silent. In a few minutes she arose. There was a slight flush upon her cheek, a

cerns.

The mother conducting the worship of her family.

tear stood in her eye, and her lips quivered with emotion. With a tremulous voice she thus began: Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer.' We all instantly arose, and through the service made the proper responses, with which we were all familiar. My mother continued to read the service with perfect self-control until she came to the prayer, for persons under affliction:' then her voice faltered and her utterance was choked. This was a trying moment to me.--My beloved father was no more. His death was fresh in my recollection. The voices of my little brothers and sisters uttering the responses, were still sounding in my ear. My mother was at this moment kneeling before the throne of God, and borne down by such a load of wounded feeling that she could not speak. All this was too much for me. It roused within me a flood of sensibility that I could not control. I wept, I sobbed aloud, I looked about with a wild and feverish gaze. All in the room were on their knees-all were silent, except myself. The tears were indeed trickling down from all the young eyes around me ; but they fell like the dew-drops of evening, in silence. At length my mother proceeded, Remember these children, O Lord, in mercy; sanctify thy fatherly correction to them, endue their souls with patience under their affliction, and with resignation to thy blessed will-comfort them with a sense of thy goodness-lift up thy countenance upon them, and give them peace through Jesus Christ our Lord.'

6

"I felt that I wanted peace, but at this time I knew little about that peace which the world cannot give.'

"After the conclusion of the service, my mother appeared perfectly calm and unagitated. She even seemed happy. This was not the case with me. The burden of feeling which had pressed me down continued to rest upon me with all its undiminished weight.

"I scarcely knew what hand had inflicted this wound