transformation is not much greater than that which many other names of places have undergone in the course of centuries; as, for example, the neighbouring Continental port of Cherbourg, anciently Casaris Burgum.

In approaching the noble harbour of St. Helier, the first object which strikes the eye is the quaint, venerable pile of Elizabeth Castle. It is the centre of a scene embracing every element of the picturesque. There it stands, perched upon a huddled mass of wave-worn, tempest-beaten rocks, in the midst of a bay, brimful at high-water of manycoloured sea; its exquisite curve, with a seven-mile sweep of foam-rimmed beach, enclosed by verdant uplands, sprinkled with villas, cottages, and farmsteads, variously enlivened by wood and meadow, cornlands, vineyards, gardens, and orchards, by the terraced streets of the town, and the imposing fortress of the Regent. The castle was built, as its VOL. XV.-Second Series,

name indicates, in the reign of Elizabeth. Legend says, that the rock was once inhabited by a Christian hermit, named Helier, who was murdered by some pirates whom he had endeavoured to reclaim from their evil ways. The Pope compensated him by canonization; and the islanders honoured him by giving his name to the town which overlooks the bay, and is now the handsome and populous capital of the island. The castle is much larger than any onelooking at it either from the land, or from the deck of a steamer-would be disposed to think. It is, in fact, a stronghold of vast proportions. It covers great part of the clustered rocks, which are nearly a mile in circuit. Its historical associations are not contemptible. Commanding the entrance to the bay, it has played a principal part in the military annals of the island. Those annals are not uneventful. The French, as may be supposed, have again and again claimed,

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and endeavoured to conquer, an important naval position, which seems like a bit in the very jaws of France. Du Guesclin, one of the favourite heroes of French historical romance, endeavoured in vain to capture Jersey in the reign of Edward the Third. The only partial success of the French was when, shrewdly taking advantage of our civil wars of the Roses, they obtained possession of about half the island; but were soon dislodged. In 1779, a French army made an unsuccessful attempt to land. In 1781, however, a surprise was effected; the LieutenantGovernor, Major Corbet, being fast asleep at the time; and, perhaps, little dreaming that he and his whole command would wake up in the hands of the French. The French themselves, however, had only marched into our hands, as Major Pierson, almost immediately, took them all prisoners of war, though at the cost of his own life. Of course, our quiet retention of the island, through so many centuries, has been in great degree due to the loyalty of the inhabitants; a fact which has been acknowledged by the grant to them of many valuable, and highly-appreciated, and sensitively-guarded privileges. Jersey was the last corner of his kingdom which held out for the unhappy Charles. Sir George Carteret, for a long time, held at bay the Parliamentary forces, and only surrendered at last on the most favourable terms. Elizabeth Castle is a mile distant from the beach at high water; but is connected with it by a natural causeway, by which it is accessible to the pedestrian at low water. The state of the tide, however, must be carefully noted; inattention to this has been so fatal to the soldiers of the garrison, as to fix upon this path the title, "The Bridge of Death."

Perhaps, the highest testimony ever given to the surpassing beauty of Jersey was from one who, both by taste and travel, was well competent to make a just award between Jersey and its rival claimants for the crown of beauty,-we mean John Wesley. He visited Jersey in company with Dr. Coke, in the autumn of 1787, when he was in his eightyfifth year. He says, "The island is the pleasantest I ever saw; as far

superior to the Isle of Wight, as that is to the Isle of Man." His account of his visit is so characteristic of the man, and so illustrative of his labours, that we shall close this sketch with a few extracts from it. Two of the most remarkable men Methodism ever produced were then stationed in Jersey,-Robert Carr Brackenbury, and Adam Clarke; the latter then plain Mr. Clarke.

"Monday, August 20th.-We embarked between three and four in the morning, in a very small, inconvenient sloop, and not a swift sailer; so that we were seven hours in sailing what is called seven leagues.* About eleven we landed at St. Helier, and went straight to Mr. Brackenbury's house. It stands very pleasantly, near the end of the town; and has a large, convenient garden, with a lovely range of fruitful hills, which rise at a small distance from it. I preached, in the evening, to an exceeding serious congregation, on Matt. iii., ult.; and almost as many were present at five in the morning, whom I exhorted to go on to perfection; which many of them, Mr. Clarke informs me, are earnestly endeavouring to do.

"Tuesday, 21st.-We took a walk to one of our friends in the country. Near his house stood what they call, 'the college.' It is a free-school, designed to train up children for the University; exceeding finely situated, in a quiet recess, surrounded by tall woods. Not far from it stands, on the top of a high hill, (I suppose a Roman mount,) an old chapel, believed to be the first Christian church which was built in the island. The little hills, almost covered with large trees, are inexpressibly beautiful; it seems they are to be equalled in the Isle of Guernsey. In the evening I was obliged to preach abroad, on 'Now is the day of salvation.' I think a blessing seldom fails to attend that subject. "Wednesday, 22d. In the evening, the room not containing the people, I was obliged to stand in the yard. I preached on Rom. iii. 22, 23; and spoke exceeding plain; even the gentry heard with deep attention. How little things does God turn to His own glory!

From Guernsey to Jersey.

Probably many of these flock together because I have lived so many years. And, perhaps, even this may be the means of their living for ever.

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Thursday, 23d.—I rode to St. Mary's, five or six miles from St. Helier, through shady, pleasant lanes. None at the house could speak English, but I had interpreters enough. In the evening our large room was throughly filled. I preached on, 'By grace are ye saved, through faith.' Mr. Brackenbury interpreted, sentence by sentence; and God owned His Word, though delivered in so awkward a manner; but especially in prayer. I prayed in English, and Mr. B. in French.

"Saturday, 25th.-Having now leisure, I finished a sermon on discerning the Signs of the Times.' This morning I had a particular conversation (as I had once or twice before) with Jeannie Bisson, of this town; such a young woman as I have hardly seen elsewhere. She seems to be wholly devoted to God, and to have constant communion with Him. She has a clear and strong understanding; and I cannot perceive the least tincture of enthusiasm. I am afraid she will not live long. I am amazed at the grace of God which is in her. I think she is far beyond Madame Guion, in deep communion with God; and I doubt whether I have found her fellow in England. Precious as my time is, it would have been worth my while to come to Jersey, had it been only to see this prodigy of grace. In the evening God was with us in a very uncommon manner, while I opened and enforced those comprehensive words, 'We preach Christ crucified.' I know not when we have had such an opportunity; it seemed as if every soul present would have found the salvation of God.

"Sunday, 26th.-Dr. Coke preached at five, and I at nine o'clock.

"Monday, 27th.-I thought, when I left Southampton, to have been there again as this day; but God's thoughts were not as my thoughts. Here we are shut up in Jersey, for how long we cannot tell: but it is all well; for Thou, Lord, hast done it."

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it was restored in the evening; and I believe all in the assembly-room (more than the last evening) heard distinctly, while I explained and applied, 'I saw the dead, small and great, stand before God.'

"Friday, 31st.-I looked over Archbishop Usher's letters.

"Wednesday, Sept. 5th.-In the afternoon we drank tea at a friend's, who was mentioning a captain just come from France, that proposed to sail in the morning for Penzance; for which the wind would serve, though not for Southampton. In this we plainly saw the hand of God: so we agreed with him immediately; and in the morning, Thursday, 6th, went on board with a fair, moderate wind; but we had but just entered the ship when the wind died away. We cried to God for help, and it presently sprung up exactly fair; and did not cease till it brought us into Penzance-Bay."

CHARACTERISTIC LETTERS
FROM THE LATE WILLIAM
DAWSON TO A YOUNG LADY.
(Never before published.)
No. I.

MY DEAR MISS

I HAVE at last taken up my pen to write to a new correspondent, and I should wish to write something which would be perused with pleasure and profit many days, or even years, hence. You are now at an age when impressions upon the memory are the most lasting; when the impressions are also made upon the understanding and the heart, by which they obtain a deeper attention of the soul; and therefore are printed in almost indelible characters on the memory; so that what we felt of pleasure or of pain in reading a letter from a friend will, at twenty or thirty years after that time, be revived at every perusal. If they are improper ones, they will be a trouble to you to get rid of them; and will revive in your recollections and feelings many a time when you are in the house and presence and service of God, and be "roots of bitterness "springing up to trouble you "through the varying scenes of life." It is an unspeakable mercy when a

young person deeply tastes the wormwood and the gall of sound conviction and true repentance; and a greater mercy still, when that is followed by the spirit of adoption in the heart, crying, "Abba, Father;" and a greater mercy still, when justification is followed by an entire renewal of the heart, and an entire devotedness of the whole soul to the service of God. Now, when these unspeakable operations of the Holy Spirit are felt in youth, then everything connected with them will be vividly recollected at the age of seventy years. If the person is then standing in the Church, and in favour of God, he will remember, with realizing feelings, the Minister under whom he was most blessed; the chapel, and the seat in the chapel, where he sat; the hymns that were sung, and if he has an ear for music, the tune in which the hymn was sung; and that hymn and tune will always be a favourite with such a one.

Thus you may see why we are so earnest with our young friends to listen betimes to the voice of our Lord Jesus Christ, and surrender up themselves to Him to be pardoned, accepted, and saved. Now, my dear Miss be sure you seek the Lord with your whole heart, and delay not. Sin is the greatest evil that ever was, or ever will be; greater than the tongue of man can describe; greater than the mind of an archangel can conceive; greater than all the torments endured by devils and lost spirits to all eternity! And, therefore, the danger of a sinner is in some measure equal to the evil of sin; and is it for such a one to be easy, when sinking under such an evil, and exposed to such a danger? Awake, my dear child! awake from the deadly slumbers of carnal security, and turn from sin with all your heart," and to your Saviour turn." Escape for your life; look not behind you, neither tarry you in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest you be consumed." See, Jesus waits to receive you with open arms! His hands are filled with blessings, and His heart with love. There you will meet a welcome such as Infinite Love can give you; and there you shall find salvation beyond your wants; nay, beyond your wishes. He will do for you

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"exceeding abundantly above all that" you can "ask or think."

Then why tarry a moment? Unspeakable danger out of Christ! Unspeakable happiness in Christ! Unspeakable the sin and folly of delaying! Surely three such unspeakables should alarm your fears, excite your hopes, and rouse your desires to escape impending danger, and secure freely-offered mercy!

Well, I trust the truths of a sinner's salvation are deeply thought upon by you, at times, both by night and by day. Those thoughts often bring you to your closet; and there you bow in the presence of your Father, and plead with Him, for His dear Son's sake, He would "blot out your transgressions," and "remember your sins no more." Those meditations endear your Divine Saviour to your heart, and you make His blood the foundation of your hope, His name the passport of your petitions, and His example the copy of your actions. O, be sure you highly value your closet, and then you will often visit it; and the more frequently you visit your closet, the more highly will you value it; and the exercise of this principle and practice will be attended with incalculable advantages to your soul. I need not say, cast in your lot with the people of God, and beg an interest in their affections and prayers. These are privileges which, as a Body, we enjoy in a high degree; and, therefore, do not rob yourself of the profit of such privileges. At Bradford you have plenty of classes and leaders to make your selection; and be sure, if you have not done it, do it soon. Be careful who you select for a bosom friend. Let it be a person of good understanding and sterling piety; and to such a one you may unbosom your heart, and repose your confidence. Listen attentively to the advice and warnings of your valuable parents. When they reprove, take it mildly; you may be sure there is reason for it. When they warn you, let both your ears be open to their voice; there is assuredly some danger nigh. When they command, cheerfully attend to, and obey, their injunctions; you know they will not impose anything unreasonable upon you. When they prohibit, immediately for

bear the action, or renounce the enjoyment, as you know they will prohibit nothing that would be advantageous to you; nay, there must be some real evil in the action or pleasure, or they would not use the painful duty of prohibition. In dubious cases ask their advice, and attend to their wishes. You have but one father and one mother in the world. Friends are not parents; and though, in many cases, a friend's counsel is invaluable, yet there is no friend in the world can have your interest at heart like a parent. No eye looks on you with an interest like theirs. No heart yearns over you with affection like theirs. No one will weep when you weep, and rejoice when you rejoice, like your father and mother. That is a fine description which Judah gave Joseph of their father's feelings towards Benjamin. (Gen. xliv. 30, 31.) Such, in some measure, is the heart of your parents towards their children. Their wishes, their happiness, their life are bound up in the welfare and life of their offspring. Well, my dear, I hope you will always be the comfort of your parents, the companion of believers, the favourite of your Ministers; and, above all and in all, an "heir of God, and joint-heir with Jesus Christ." O may I at the last see you put in possession of your heavenly inheritance, and converse with you, not through the imperfect medium of writing, but with all the facility, all the propriety, and all the pleasure which the language of heaven will afford! and there may I share and increase your joy, through one eternal day, is the heartfelt prayer of

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to know about poor relations ? Allusion to them at any time is unpleasant; and at this festive season, especially, is as alarming almost as the sight of a ghost. What right have our relations to be poor? It is really too bad of them. Our feelings have often been shocked at the thought; but they will live on, the injury to our feelings notwithstanding. It should be stated, however, that there is to be no revelation of family-secrets in what follows. The heading of this paper does not limit itself to poor uncles, aunts, and cousins; it has a fuller meaning, and a wider range. It is to be interpreted by the "one blood," and not by the "table of kin" at the end of "The Book of Common Prayer."

There is a proneness in us to forget the poor. When we are well and happy ourselves, when we can work with the bee, and sing with the lark, we are wont to forget the meanly clad and hungry, -the alley, the cellar, and the garret ; those populous abodes of blighted prospects and broken hearts. Nor is a reminder at this season out of place. Of all times, the New-Year's week is the time of kindly feeling, good-will, generous sentiment. What friendly meetings! What sunny smiles and ample cheer! How the holly-berries glisten! What secrets the misletoe reveals! The yulelog still cracks his jokes in the chimney. From kitchen to garret the whole house is brimful of delight. Of set purpose is this season chosen to speak a word for the poor. Happy as we are, there are numbers around us to whom the year eighteen hundred and sixty-nine has brought nothing new but woe. Go, kind reader, while the year is yet in its infancy, with some friendly token to those who cannot boast of many friends. Go with the radiance of a brother's or a sister's eye; go with the warmth of a brother's or a sister's heart. A Christian's visit to a poor man's home is as cheering as a sunny day in winter. Charity is generally cold. Those who are dependent have not always honeyed treatment. "The poor is hated even of his own neighbour." Paid almoners, as a rule, have only fine feelings in the sense of little feeling at all. We have read of a certain beadle, a fat and choleric