same language, and may be arranged as synonyms of the same word.  Yes! piety, goodness, the favour and approbation of God, are all marked out by sorrow and infirmity here.  Why else did the blessed Jesus tabernacle here below—­a man of sorrows? and why else was he acquainted with grief?  It might make a Christian almost drink his cup of sickness and pain with greediness when he remembers that he is tasting the same cup as that of which his Lord drank, and he might hail with rapture the outstretched arm of death and suffering as about to place on his head the diadem of eternal glory.  I am not to flatter you—­you need it not, you ask it not; but, my friend, you must feel and know that you have been walking with God, walking humbly, doing good, neither trusting to false presumptions nor to your own merits.  Christ has been your master, to Him you have looked, and, blessed be God!  He will never, never forsake those who trust to Him,—­those who are good to others for his sake,—­those who seek redemption through Him.  Where, O ye years that are past, have you gone?  You have carried to the throne of grace many an act of contrition, many a devout prayer, many a good deed, many an offering of faith, from the friend to whom I now write.  Bring back, ye moments that are to come and which shall be granted to her in this world, rich consolations, promises of pardon, assurances of favour, all spiritual blessings!  Dear Miss Byard, may all these be yours in full abundance.  May God the Father bless you, through the Eternal Spirit, for Christ’s sake!  This is the sincere and earnest prayer of your affectionate and faithful friend, E.B.R.

     In this I am joined by Isabella.

     Marked—­“It arrived just after her death.”

In his journal Mr. Ramsay speaks of Bishop Sandford with a very grateful recollection.  To him he owed his preferment, and a “more agreeable charge could not well be had.”  He characterises him as a man of elegant mind and accurate scholarship, of deep piety and sincere faith.  I think it is with some regret that he adds, the “state of the Church is much changed since his episcopate.”

His dear brother Marmaduke died in the summer of 1831, and the Dean, who is no exaggerator of his feelings, remarks—­“This is one of the sorrows for which language is inadequate.  Such a mind, such taste, abilities, and accomplishments!” Edward Ramsay felt that nothing could make up for the loss of his brother, but he had comfort in thinking how much his brother’s mind had been wakened to religious inquiries.  His simple notes in his journal are sometimes worth preserving.  “July 6, 1833, was the finest day I ever remember.”  He passed it in the Highlands with Professor Forbes, Skenes, and other delightful friends.  On the 28th he left for the Duke of Sutherland’s funeral; afterwards he repaired to Leamington and Dr. Jephson, whose skill he soon found reason to admire.  On leaving Leamington he thanks God that he has gained