"My young friend," said he, "your life has been one of peculiar temptation and excess. Much to deplore, much to blame, and much to repent of; but the state of feeling which induced you to come to me, is a proof that you now only require that which, with God's help, I trust I shall be able to supply. It is now late, and we both of us require some refreshment. I will order in dinner, and you must send to the inn for your portmanteau."

Perceiving that I was about to answer, "I must take no denial," resumed he. "You have placed yourself under my care as your physician, and you must follow my prescriptions. My duty is as much more important, compared to the doctor's, as the soul is to the body."

Dinner being served, he dismissed the servants as soon as possible, and then asked me many questions relative to my family, all of which I answered without reserve. He once mentioned Miss Somerville; but I was so overcome, that he perceived my distress, and, filling me a glass of wine, changed the subject.

If I thought that any words of mine could do justice to the persuasive discourses of this worthy bishop, I would have benefited the world by making them public; but I could not do this; and I trust that none of my readers will have so much need of them as I had myself. I shall, therefore, briefly state, that I remained in the palace ten days, in the most perfect seclusion.

Every morning the good bishop dedicated two or three hours to my instruction and improvement; he put into my hands one or two books at a time, with marks in them, indicating the pages which I ought to consult. He would have introduced me to his family; but this I begged, for a time, to decline, being too much depressed and out of spirits; and he indulged me in my request of being allowed to continue in the apartments allotted to me.

On the seventh morning, he came to me, and after a short conversation, informed me that business would require his absence for two or three days, and that he would give me a task to employ me during the short time he should be gone. He then put into my hand a work on the sacrament. "This," said he, "I am sure you will read with particular attention, so that on my return I may invite you to the feast." I trembled as I opened the book. "Fear not, Mr Mildmay," said he; "I tell you, from what I see of your symptoms, that the cure will be complete."

Having said this, he gave me his blessing, and departed. He returned exactly at the end of three days, and after a short examination, said he would allow me to receive the sacrament, and that the holy ceremony should take place in his own room privately, well knowing how much affected I should be. He brought in the bread and wine; and having consecrated and partaken of them himself, agreeably to the forms prescribed, he made a short extempore prayer in my behalf.

When he had done this, he advanced towards me, and presented the bread. My blood curdled as I took it in my mouth; and when I had tasted the wine, the type of the blood of that Saviour, whose wounds I had so often opened afresh in my guilty career, and yet upon the merits of which I now relied for pardon, I felt a combined sensation of love, gratitude and joy—a lightness and buoyancy of spirits, as if I could have left the earth below me, disburthened of a weight that had, till then, crushed me to the ground. I felt that I had faith—that I was a new man—and that my sins were forgiven; and, dropping my head on the side of the table, I remained some minutes in grateful and fervent prayer.

The service being ended, I hastened to express my acknowledgments to my venerable friend.

"I am but the humble instrument, my dear young friend," said the bishop; "let us both give thanks to the almighty Searcher of hearts. Let us hope that the work is perfect—for then, you will be the occasion of 'joy in heaven.' And now," continued he, "let me ask you one question. Do you feel in that state of mind that you could bear any affliction which might befall you, without repining?"