the hotel, which I greatly wished to do. I have had, however, beneath the young oaks near the curate's house, a conversation with him on the trials which the Christian may experience under ordinary circumstances, in the everyday world, which I shall never forget, because much that had occurred in my own soul had occurred also in his; and I saw in him a cross-bearer—but one greater and more patient than most. On the following day, which was Sunday, he preached in the Episcopal church of Maçon, a small but handsome building, in which some youthful communicants were to receive the Lord's Supper for the first time. Eliott's sermon had reference to the occasion; he was about to consecrate them to the Christian faith, its duties, trials, and greatness; to the crown of thorns and the crown of glory; an excellent sermon, full of truth, in the admonition to the life both human and divine. Not brilliant and dazzling, not merely half true aphorisms; but the purest light, shining because it was pure and perfect, and because it contained the whole truth.
After divine service I took leave of the noble bishop, glad to have become acquainted with him, and in him a true Christian gentleman. I hope to see him again, probably in the west, whither he goes this autumn, to a great assembly of the clergy. He has now lately returned from an official journey to Florida, up the beautiful river St. John, and speaks of the exuberance of natural life on its shores, the beauty of its flowers and birds, so that I have a great desire to go there. I parted from Eliott, grieving that human sorrow should thus depress so good, so noble, and so amiable a man.
If you wish to see upon what spot of all the globe I am now to be found, you must look into the very middle of the American State of Georgia, where is a small town by the name of Maçon; and near to it a pretty village of country houses and gardens, called Vineville, in
