As we sat, enjoying the interchange of sacred thought and feeling, almost forgetting that we were inhabitants of a world which had fallen from an original state of purity and bliss, I observed an interesting-looking stranger advancing towards us; and was informed that it was the Rev. Mr. Guion, of whom I had previously heard. Mr. Guion apologized for not being punctual, and informed us that the fall of his horse was the cause of it. He was welcomed by the whole party, and congratulated on his having sustained no injury. Mrs. Ingleby, of course, presided at the tea-table; she was elegantly polite, yet so affable that we felt at perfect ease; and every one appeared to enjoy the desultory chit-chat, which was kept up with great spirit. At length, when the tea-drinking ceremony was over, _conversation_ commenced, according to our uniform custom, and, to the astonishment of all, Mrs. Ingleby led off; yet I think it was more by accident than design. "Strange events happen in the history of life; but I have been thinking, while attending to the ceremonies of the table, that if an old prophet of Israel had been with us when we took our first cup of tea in this moss-house, and if he had predicted that we should live to see the present company with us, I should have doubted it." "Our presence, Madam," said Mr. Stevens, "may be attributed to the moral power of the Christian ministry; that ministry being the instrument in the hands of the Spirit of God, by which he effects moral wonders." "I had no idea," said Mr. Guion, "when I was going to hear the visitation sermon at Salisbury, that I should come into contact with any other power than the rhapsodies of evangelical enthusiasm. Several of us were highly amused in anticipation of witnessing some strange outbursts of fanatical sentiment and feeling, uttered in some grotesque terms of enunciation. But my venerable friend had not proceeded far in his discourse before I felt compelled to listen with profound attention; what he said was new to me, it went to my heart; I was not able, nor yet inclined, to resist the wisdom and the spirit by which he spake." "And pray, Sir," said Mr. Lewellin, "what was the direct effect which the sermon produced?" "The effect, at the time, was an undefinable effect. I recollect, when I left the church, and I contrived to leave it without intermixing with any of my brother clergymen, I retired to meditate on what I had heard, but my mind was too deeply agitated to admit of calm meditation. My personal guilt, my spiritual danger, my ministerial unfaithfulness to my dishonoured Lord, and the future judgment, alternately convulsed my feelings; and being unconscious at the time of the immediate cause or ultimate design of this extraordinary mental excitement, I knew not what to do to regain my accustomed composure. I could neither read nor pray. I wandered hour after hour to and fro, in a lonely glen; I was in a fearful tumult of anxiety and agony of spirit.