joined a private music-meeting of his friends, and would play and sing with them. Many pleasant anecdotes are related of his walks to and from Salisbury; one of which is, of his assisting a poor man to raise a horse which had fallen under his load; which drew upon him a remark from one of his musical friends, "that he had disparaged himself by so dirty an employment;" to which he answered, "that the thoughts of what he had done would prove music to him at midnight, and that the omission of it would have upbraided and made discord in his conscience whensoever he should pass by that place; for," added he, "if I be bound to pray for all that be in distress, I am sure that I am bound, so far as it is in my power, to practise what I pray for; and though I do not wish for the like occasion every day, I would not willingly pass one day of my life without comforting a sad soul, or shewing mercy; and I praise God for this occasion." He took every opportunity, in his walks to Salisbury, to instruct the ignorant and comfort the afflicted, and always confirmed his precepts by humility and mercy. His wife joined in all his works of charity, to which he set no bounds, and was his willing almoner, receiving from him, constantly, a tenth part of his tithes for the poor. He continued to perform all his ministerial duties till he became so much weakened by consumption, as to be entirely confined to his house and chapel, where he read prayers, as long as he had strength to read, twice every day, and then his curate (a learned and virtuous man, and an old friend of Mr. Herbert's) read them in his stead. About a month before his death, his friend, Mr. Nicholas Ferrar, hearing of his illness, sent a

brother clergyman, Mr. Duncon, to see him, and to bring him an account of his health. Mr. Herbert asked him to pray with him; and when Mr. Duncon asked what prayers he should read, replied, "O sir, the prayers of my mother, the Church of England; no other prayers are equal to them but, at this time, I beg of you to pray only the litany, for I am weak and faint." Mr. Duncon left him the next day; and was so much touched by his piety and humility that he promised to return to him in five days, which, when he did, he found him much weaker; and Mr. Herbert gave him a little book which he had written, "The Temple; or, Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations," to take to his friend Mr. Ferrar, with a loving message, assuring him that he was "waiting for his appointed change with hope and patience." When Mr. Duncon departed, his old and dear friend Mr. Woodnot came to him, and remained with him till his death, which took place about three weeks after his arrival. He was often visited also and prayed for by the neighbouring clergy, especially the bishop and prebends of Salisbury Cathedral, and carefully nursed by his wife and three nieces. On the Sunday before his death, rising suddenly from his bed, he called for one of his musical instruments, took it into his hand, and said,

"My God, my God,

My music shall find Thee;

And every string

Shall have his attribute to sing."

Then, having tuned it, he played and sang

"The Sundays of man's life,
Threaded together on Time's string,
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternal glorious King.
On Sundays heaven's door stands ope;
Blessings are plentiful and rife,
More plentiful than hope."

He continued meditating, praying, and rejoicing, till the day of his death, when he expressed to Mr. Woodnot his full trust in the mercy of God, to whom he had nothing to present but sin and misery; and when reminded of his many works of charity, of his rebuilding the church, &c. &c., he replied, "They be good works, if they be sprinkled with the blood of Christ, and not otherwise." His last words were, "Lord, forsake me not now my strength faileth me, but grant me mercy for the merits of my Jesus. And now, Lord,—Lord, now receive my soul.”

"Thus he lived, and thus he died," says Walton, “like a saint, unspotted of the world, full of alms-deeds, full of humility, and all the examples of a virtuous life.”

"All must to their cold graves;

But the religious actions of the just

Smell sweet in death, and blossom in the dust."

HODNET (in Shropshire) can scarcely be called a village or a town. It consists chiefly of two streets, of irregular buildings, at the upper end of one of which stands the church. The whole churchyard, and many parts of the village, lie on a huge mass of rock, and the church is built of the same old red sandstone. There are two small chapels of ease (Weston Chapel, and the perpetual curacy of More

ton) to the parish of Hodnet, which is very large. The manor, church, and lands belonged to the Hodnett, or Odenett, family for five generations, and came to those of Ludlow and Vernon by marriage. In 1754 the property came to the grandfather of Bishop Heber, who was descended from the Vernons, in the female line. Probably the tombs of the Hodnets, the Ludlows, and Vernons, were once to be seen in Hodnet Church; but now only one remains--the tomb of Henrietta, the last of the Vernons, and from the roof above it, hang on one side the faulchion and gauntlet, and on the other the spurs of knighthood. During the rebellion the church was stripped of its old memorials, and much spoiled; and the rector, Dr. John Arnway, Archdeacon of Lichfield, and a zealous royalist, was persecuted, his rectory and his books burnt, and he was driven from his house; and, after being imprisoned and ill-used, fled first to the Hague, and then to Virginia, and died in poverty before the restoration. After the rebellion, the church seems to have been much neglected, and treated with great carelessness.

It is large, and divided into broad aisles and chancels by a row of six pillars, five circular and one octangular, running along the whole extent of the building, and supporting five circular and two pointed arches. The capitals of the pillars are not ornamented. The ceilings of the north and south chancels are panelled with dark oak, and small but flowered bosses. The royal arms are painted between the south aisle and the chancel, with the date 1660. The church is dedicated to St. Oswald. At the principal entrance is a small oaken box for alms, with two