He was simple in his greatness, and great in his It was very evident that he was passing into a simplicity. He preached a truly evangelical sermon. Like the style of the great Wesley, his was at the farthest remove from literary or metaphysical display. It, as a sermon, was plain to the most ordinary understanding; it was equal to the profoundest depth of intellect; it was a complete whole to the critic; it was full of marrow to the people of God; it was persuasive and awakening to the impenitent; in fine, it was just what we might expect from a truly apostolical, old minister of the Gospel, who had spent his vigor in the great labors of evangelism, and who was a successor of the apostles by virtue of his commission and fire-baptism, rather than by prelatical imposition of hands. For one, I retired to my room not specially desirous of hearing any more preaching that day. Such an impression did the venerable appearance of the Bishop that day make upon me, that at this distant hour I see him as I then saw him standing up to proclaim the everlasting Gospel. I see the movements of his head, note the peculiar expression of his closing eyes, the few but forcible gestures of his hands; and observe the immobility of his serene countenance, save when his eye now and then emitted a flash of that fire which is said to have distinguished him in those palmier days, which shall never more smile on him but from the vista of recollected years. The glow of his countenance was not like that produced on the dark cloud by the blinding blaze of the lightning-bolt, but rather like that gentle illumination which glows upon the bosom of mid-twilight, while the insect is quietly and serenely passing along his ether pathway. The impressions produced on that occasion were profound and stable. No one spoke of the effort in the phrase of adulation, but in the reverential language of participation in its unction and its faith. One young man, whom we had long known as a free-thinker, made the remark, that, "if the Methodists were supported by such pillars as that, they never would fall." All who were privileged with the pleasures of that morning's services went away feeling that they had listened to one who was an Episcopos, not in name only, but in very deed. The personal habits of the Bishop were truly remarkable for a man of his advanced age. Precisely at such an hour in the evening he came down from his room to attend prayers. In the morning it was the same. It was remarked by the family of the Rev. Mr. Cummings, with what regularity the reverend father was every morning risen and at his labors. When he came to take his journey onward toward the conference, we regretted to lose the company of the aged apostle of American Methodism. Once more I saw the face of Bishop Hedding. It was at the Providence conference, held in the city of New London, in the April of 1848. Several years had passed since I last saw him at our northern seminary. It was with joy that I saw him in the chair of the presiding officer of the conference. later day of the autumn of his life. His health was less firm, his form was more rotund, his features wore a more rigid and furrowed appearance, than when I saw him a few years before. He was not able to sit in the chair during a full session of the conference, and he, therefore, often called our revered father Asa Kent to fill his place, while he should rest a whiel. The business tact of the Bishop was apparently as complete as ever. He could lay hold of a point in the train of discussion with acute penetration, would hear a motion quickly as ever, would call the brethren by name with surprising correctand would give his decisions of questions with the utmost depth and accuracy of judgment. While the outer man was decaying, his mind was vigorous as in other days. ness, The hour for our final separation arrived. The session had been interesting and harmonious. The conference was full; the committees had all reported; the motion of thanks to the kind people of New London had passed by a unanimous rising vote; all were in waiting for the closing services; the hymn had been sung, the prayers were closed, and the Bishop slowly rose to make his parting address to the conference; the appointments for another year of labor to the preachers were ready to be announced; the portfolio of the Bishop lay unopened before him on the table; he had taken his glasses from his temples, and held them in his hand; he spoke in a distinct but faltering voice. That short but deeply affecting speech of a father in the Gospel will prove the last of the venerable Bishop Hedding to the Providence annual conference. This had been an interesting session of the conference to him. From time to time, of late years, he had bidden his brethren farewell, not expecting that his life of labor would have been protracted to so great a period as it had been the will of God that it should be. But there must be a last adieu; and rapidly growing infirmities admonished him to quickly finish his work for this world. He was, probably, attending his last conference with these fathers and brethren. There were but few fathers left; their gray heads were fast disappearing from our midst; brothers Webb, and Kent, and Fillmore, and Bonney were still among the soldiers in the field. He had known many of the brethren in other years; but he saw many new faces, and heard many new voices among them-most of them were young men. He was once more in New England-a section of the work of great interest to him. Over these parts he had traveled, first as an itinerant preacher, afterward as a presiding elder, and last as a general superintendent. His traveling was almost brought to a close. He had taken upon himself the duties of his several stations with diffidence, and had borne their labors and responsibilities as one who must give account at the last day to God. Age was fast coming upon ONE THOUGHT ON DEATH. 7 which had grown old in holding the reins of highertoned spirits than those of the fabled chariot of the sun. The Bishop kindly shook the hand of each who came. Then, accompanied by some of the old men, he slowly left the sanctuary of our brethren of New London, Conn., never more to enter it. Bishop Janes told us, at our last annual gathering, at Warren, R. I., that this venerable man sent by him to the brethren the following testimony and comfort: "My comforts are mighty comforts." ONE THOUGHT ON DEATH. BY MONTPELIER. him, and he could not long serve the great Shep-ren pressed forward to take once more that hand, herd in the militant Church. He had come once more to behold their order, and to review their labors in the cause of God, and was satisfied. He had come for something more-to confer his last benediction upon his brethren and his sons in the Gospel, and to strengthen those ties, which he expected would be again enjoyed, after a momentary dissolution, in that rest which remaineth. He desired the brethren to love the Church first of all things in this world, to cleave to its interests, and to labor for its prosperity. He admonished the brethren to keep the Discipline, and to abide by the usages of the Church, as the fathers had done before them. He would be glad to come again to them, if our heavenly Father saw fit to add days to his life and vigor to his decaying strength. His lamp was growing dim for this life, but his hope was full of immortality. He was looking for the last change, for which he had been many years striving to prepare. His labors had not been few, but, so far from wishing that they had been less, he would that they had been manifold more. He did not regret one labor which he had endured, a trial which he had ever met, a sacrifice which he had ever made for the cause of God. He was not weary of the work, but his feelings were like those of the soldier, who had arrived within sight of the hills of his childhood-his feet are weary with treading the battle-field, his shoulders ache to lay off the harness. His blessing he gave them, exhorting them to be men of one work-to be men of eternity. He had no fears that, at the moment of his departure, there would not be men in the general superintendency to whose hands he could commit the Church, with as much confidence as the fathers had intrusted the same to the guidance of himself and his coadjutors in the Episcopacy. He would once more utter the wish, that the great Methodist family in the whole world might be one that the membership and the ministry might keep to the old landmarks-that they might prosecute, with greater vigor than ever, the work, for the accomplishment of which God had raised up and thrust forth the fathers. THAN death nothing is more dreaded by man. When we look even upon an animal exulting in the joyousness of existence, drinking in at one moment, with the keenest zest, the air and the light of heaven, and the next moment "a kneaded clod," there is a feeling of the profoundest regret that spontaneously arises in the mind. There are none, probably, in the world but who have felt, in slaying a noxious, still more an innocent animal, that it was a sad thing to take away life. The reader who is familiar with Shakspeare will recollect the deep struggle that Othello had before he took the life of Desdemona. Beside other cousiderations, he grudged most sorely the simple taking away of her animal existence-a thing which no human skill or art could restore to life again. Hear him contrasting the impossibility of bringing the dead to life with the power he had of rekindling an extinguished flame: "Put out the light, and then put out the light. The infant is rosy and plump; the old man is The patriarch of the Episcopacy ceased to speak, shriveled and pale, with blue veins starting up and took his seat. That was a thrilling moment. through his thin and meager skin. His bones, once The brethren had heard the last word of a revered supple and yielding, have become, through lapse sire, who was to go from them to return, they of years, hard and brittle, and, if struck heavily, feared, no more. The fathers of the conference they will snap asunder like glass. After a while wept. The young men also wept. Many an eye his arteries become rigid, bony canals, and cease was covered to hide the falling tears. All hoped their work of carrying the blood. The things of that they might again welcome Bishop Hedding life then cease their power of attraction, and the to this field of his former labors, but feared that golden bowl is broken at the fountain. Death comes his words might be prophetic. He stood there, along, and all is over. Yet why should man comlike the Hebrew legislator, taking leave of those plain? We who are born into existence in time whom his stability had confirmed, whom his coun- have no injustice done us if our existence be brought sels had strengthened, whom his skill had directed, to a close in time. Our immortality is not obtained and whom his experience and piety had long kept by birthright or by any merit of our own. It is the and animated to deeds of fidelity and noble spir- gift of God; it is the mercy of Christ that permits itual daring. us to come to him, and to be made partakers of the When the appointments had been read, the breth- exceeding riches of heaven and endless life. THE FESTIVITIES OF THE IMPERIAL CITY. Bohemian glass in all the colors of the rainbow. A REMINISCENCE OF VIENNA. BY PROFESSOR WILLIAM WELLS. THE season of festivities and congratulations is now in our midst; and, while happy in the pleasures of home, it may not be amiss to cast an eye abroad and look upon the smiling faces and joyful hearts that join in the general gladness in other lands. Then come booths with thread and stockings, combs and brushes, and so on through the entire catalogue of human wants. The body is also well cared for by venders of cheese and gingerbreadpepper-cakes, as they are termed and all sorts of bonbons and confectionary. Even tables are spread out, where hungry visitors, who spent the day among the booths, may sit down and enjoy a meal while gazing at the crowd. Ambulatory cookingstoves also move through the mass, and deal out In no country are the festivals of Christmas and soup, hash, sausages, potatoes, and all the requiNew-Year more thoroughly the festivals of the sites of a not too dainty bill of fare; while on every entire people than in Germany, and in no capital | hand are piles of wheat-rolls and enormous heaps are they more brilliantly celebrated than in Vienna. of rye-bread, whose surface is generously spotted About the middle of the month of December, the with caraway-seed, baked in with a view to a fine finer stores display their most attractive wares, and flavor. An old woman is also crying, "Good coffee resort to every means to increase their powers of at one cent a cup," while a sturdy boy, with a temptation; but in this they merely outstrip us in cracked voice, is singing popular melodies for the race; for among the upper classes it is every- whatever he can get. where as with us. A sort of Parisian influence seems, in this respect, to have taken possession of the civilized world. Those who move in the humbler walks of life alone present us with the welldefined peculiarities which we designate as popular customs. In Vienna this portion of the community make most of their Christmas and New-Year purchases in the open air; and, for this reason, nearly every open space in the center of the city is filled with booths and stands of every shape and hue, so that the entire capital presents the appearance of a grand fair. A visit to these before Christmas day gives a better insight into the character of the masses than even a visit to their homes; for the Viennese live so much in the open air, that, on these occasions, they seem to bring with them all their love of pleasure, wit, and mirth, to have a grand celebration together among the booths, as preliminary to the smaller ones in their own circles. Hours may thus be agreeably spent in mingling among them, listening to their merry peals of laughter and continued exclamations of joy, as some new and pleasing object claims their attention and admiration. To describe the endless variety of quaint and curious articles exposed for sale, would be no easy task. Very prominent objects for Christmas presents among the people are, of course, those that are emblems of their religion. These appear by thousands in every size and shape. Colored engravings of the Savior on the cross are the most usual, as they are the least expensive. Beside these, the same subject, of nearly every imaginable material, from gilded bronze to common colored clay, adorns a large number of the booths. To these may be added hymns, prayers, prayerbooks, and pictures of the various saints. For youth there are toys, and for maidens an abundance of artificial flowers and perfumes; even watchmakers set up their booths, and jewelers display their cheap and gaudy wares. Tinkers set forth a choice assortment of tin-cups, pans, and kettles, and glass-dealers an endless variety of About two days before Christmas this variegated crowd of booths assumes another physiognomy; the Christmas tree appears. This is a custom so wound up in the very nature of the Germans, that, among them, a Christmas festival without a tree is a decided impossibility. It is necessary, therefore, to have a supply to suit all purposes, and, for this reason, a most fanciful assortment shows itself among the booths. Evergreen branches, generally of some variety of the pine, are trimmed to resemble trees, and vary in hight from one to twelve feet. The more costly of these are decorated with ribbons of every color, and little gilt balls, resembling apples, hanging among the branches. A cheaper sort have colored paper strips in place of ribbons. Thus decked off, they are brought to the fair for sale, and give to the assemblage of booths the appearance of a forest of Christmas trees. For days the streets are alive with these trees, on the way for sale, or in the hands of a purchaser, and ever and anon a giant tree passes by on a wagon, attracting all eyes and thrilling all hearts with the anticipation of pleasure. When at home, they are ornamented with all the presents that have been bought for the juveniles of the household, in contradistinction to the custom, prevalent in some parts of this country, of having Christmas gifts placed by St. Nicholas, or, more familiarly, Santa Claus, in the stocking hung at the chimney. The tree is placed in a room to which the children are not allowed access, and the presents, each having the name of the one for whom it is designed, are tastefully arranged on its branches. The latter are interspersed with little Christmas candles of fancy colors; and, on Christmas eve, just after dark, these are lit. When in a full blaze, the doors are opened, and in spring the children in ecstasies of joy, which are fully shared by their older relations, who are generally assembled to take part in the festivities which their generosity has helped to create. For a few hours happiness reigns unalloyed, till fatigue sends the youngsters to bed to dream of the morrow. THE FESTIVITIES OF THE IMPERIAL CITY. This custom of the Christmas tree is rapidly extending to other countries, and especially to England, as Queen Victoria has introduced it into her household for the amusement of the royal family, no doubt in compliment to Prince Albert, who is a scion of the German house of Coburg. In our own country, we believe, it is not often met with, except among our German population and some few admirers of their social customs. Among the wealthier classes in Vienna the Christmas tree is often the bearer of very costly gifts. During our sojourn there, a well-known banker adorned the Christmas tree of an only daughter with nothing but diamonds. These were considered so precious that a glass vase covered the tree, for more perfect safety among the crowd of guests that flocked to his saloons to admire the princely dower. The custom, in rather a different form, is even extended to the grown children. On Christmas night we were invited to the house of a lady well known for her liberality and hospitality. Her parlor was filled with a select company of intimate friends, who, after taking some refreshments, were invited to walk into an adjoining room. To our surprise, a large Christmas tree, brilliantly illuminated, adorned one table, while another was filled with presents for all the invited guests, each one bearing the name of the donee. In Vienna the week between Christmas and NewYear is considered, to a certain extent, a holy week; so much so that places of public amusement are all closed for the time. Even the theater, that at other times is open on Sunday evening, is then closed, and the same fate attends the ball-room. All pleasures are confined to the domestic circle, and here they reign in full sway. Another spot of extraordinary attractions, during these holidays, is the game market; for such enormous quantities of game are brought to Vienna during the season as to deserve and receive a market for it alone. The immense preserves of Hungary and the Carpathian Mountains are the sources of these luxuries. Hares are the most plentiful and most sought after, on account of their cheapness. We have seen two four-horse wagonloads of frozen hares brought into the game market at one time. As is a Christmas turkey with us, and roast-beef and plum-pudding with John Bull, so is a Christmas hare with the Viennese; and the Christmas tree is carried home in one hand with the hare in the other. They are remarkably large, and often as low as twenty-five cents apiece, so that they come within the reach of all. Another luxury of the season, indulged in by the wealthier, is the wild-boar of the Carpathian Mountains, although it was to us a riddle how a civilized palate could indulge with gusto in any thing so strong and tough. A friend, in the goodness of his heart, sent us a hind-quarter of an animal of this species, which he had bought; but we consigned it to the cook and servants, who thought it a deal more dainty than the hare with which they 9 had provided themselves. The partridge here grows to an uncommon size, and may be seen in cart-loads lying in heaps in the game market. sex. New-Year's day is, of course, one of general congratulation, and, in this respect, differs from our own, which is more especially devoted to the fair In Vienna the visits are, as a general thing, from the lower classes to the higher. In the first place, the servants in all the families where you are a regular visitor think it their duty to call on you with their congratulations, and expect a gratuity according to your importance, your own servants having already reported themselves at the breakfast-table for the same object. Then come the boot-black, the washerwoman, the lamp-lighter, the paper-carrier, the letter-carrier, and a host of others of the same genus, according to circumstances. These all make early visits, that those who think themselves their betters may have the middle of the day; and these all expect a gift, which they prefer in money, making New-Year's day rather an expensive affair. Men of business now receive the compliments of the season from their clerks and all in their employ, and the higher officers of the government those of their subordinates. These duties being fairly accomplished, people of equal grade begin to visit each other; and thus passes a New-Year's day in the Imperial City. Our chapter being one of festivities, we will continue our story of the principal ones of a religious nature that occur during the year; and when we say of a religious nature, we say all; for there are no holidays in Vienna that are not based on their religion. It is by this that the masses are governed, and this they, of course, celebrate as we do political and national events. Maundy Thursday, or the Thursday of Passion Week, before Good Friday, is an eventful day in Vienna. For several days beforehand all the Churches are busily engaged in decorating the altars in various ways. They are generally made to resemble a sepulcher, into which one can look and perceive the body of the Savior. The latter is frequently guarded by angels, and, in many instances, the whole design is most beautifully carried out, and well worthy of a visit in an artistic sense, if we may be allowed the expression, and we use it because it really appeared to us that all the visits were made more to admire artistic beauty than in a sense of devotion. About four o'clock on the afternoon of Maundy Thursday all the churches are thrown open, and crowds rush in to see and admire. The streets are filled with people in their holiday dresses, so that they are almost impassable; and nearly all these think it a duty to visit all the churches, that they may give their opinions as to the merits of their respective efforts. This produces an almost suffocating crowd in the churches themselves, and a pushing, and pulling, and complaining, that ill accord with the exhibition itself, and which do not cease till late in the evening, when fatigue and exhaustion drive the masses to poverty and obscurity, enter, for the first time, their home. whispered around that several of the men numbered more than one hundred years, and none were under ninety-five. The oldest of the women was one hundred and four, and the youngest ninety-two. Their combined ages was little less than two thousand four hundred years! upon a scene that dazzled and confounded them. The next festival in order is that of the "feet- Some seemed too much astounded to enter, or too washing;" and it is peculiar in the extreme. It is timid to take the seats assigned to them, while in imitation and commemoration of the ceremony others appeared too old and infirm to notice the performed by the Savior of washing the feet of the brilliant scene around them. The old men being disciples. Its object is to show the Christian hu- | placed, the old women entered with their attendants, mility of the Emperor, and his fatherly solicitude and were conducted to their places in the same for the welfare of his subjects. For some time way. For a few moments all was silence, and all before the performance of this high state and relig-eyes contemplated the venerable company. It was ious ceremony, the monarchy is searched far and wide for twelve of the oldest men and twelve of the oldest women that the realm contains. These are always found among the poorer classes, generally among the peasants, and they are brought to Vienna at the expense of his Majesty. The ceremony is performed in one of the largest saloons in the palace, and for a week before its consummation every influence is brought to bear to obtain tickets of admission on the occasion. As strangers, we were favored, and succeeded in procuring the necessary passports for ourself and a few friends. On arriving at the palace, we found it strictly guarded by the Emperor's body-guard in galadress, and, on presentation of credentials, we were ushered into the saloon. It was already brilliant with all the higher officers of the crown, and lords and ladies of the court, who, on this occasion, appear in their most gorgeous uniform and costly dresses. The display was one of exceeding beauty and interest, from the fact that all the nobility of the different provinces of the empire are expected to appear in their national costumes. Of the latter the most striking were those of Hungary, Styria, and Bohemia. The dresses of the Hungarian nobles especially were beautiful and unique. Nearly every prominent house has its own style of costume, and some of these are of surpassing richness and worth, reminding one of the baronial styles of the middle ages. One family that was extremely prominent appeared in loose mantles of leopardskins, hanging jauntingly from the shoulders, and half concealing an abundance of golden tresses and precious stones. The celebrated Prince Esterhazy, who is renowned for his love of display, wore a mantle studded with rare diamonds, whose worth was said to be nearly a half million of florins. Our eyes having done due justice to all these dignitaries, we began to feel solicitous about the twelve patriarchs and their mates, whose feet were to be washed by the Emperor and his consort. We soon perceived two raised platforms, one on each side of a long table, and on each of these platforms were placed twelve arm-chairs, evidently intended for those who were to be the recipients of imperial benevolence. Presently the old men entered. Most of them were so feeble that they were supported by children or near relatives, who were allowed to take their position behind the chairs of those whom they attended. It was, indeed, an affecting sight, thus to see tottering old age and silvery locks, whitened by the winters of a century passed in The imperial party now entered, and all rose in deference to majesty. In a few moments the ceremony commenced. One of the attending courtiers proceeded to take the shoe and stocking from the right foot of the old men, while another followed with a silver basin and pitcher. The basin being held under the foot, the Emperor poured a little water on it, and, laying a towel gently over it, passed on to the next. A courtier followed, and wiped the foot, while another replaced shoe and stocking. On the other platform the Empress and her ladies of honor performed the same ceremony for the old women. It is needless to add, that the feet seemed so well prepared for the occasion as to need but little washing, and that the whole performance was as formal as possible. Not the least interesting portion of the scene was to observe the effect that it produced on the old people. Some could not suppress tears; others kissed the garments of their Majesties, while others seemed almost unconscious of what was taking place. This ceremony being concluded, it was now time to feed the hungry that had been gathered, as it were, from the highways and byways of the empire. The aged company were conducted to seats at the table, and twenty-four enormous baskets were brought in and placed behind their chairs, and, according to custom, a gallon of wine for each one. The Emperor and Empress now turned waiters, and, taking the dishes from the baskets, placed them before the guests. The latter merely tasted of each dish, and then it was removed, and again placed in the basket, and thus the ceremony of feeding the hungry was performed. But the contents of each basket belonged to the individual before whom they were placed, and were ample for a large company. The old people now retire, followed by their friends and baskets, and repair to their homes, to spend the rest of the day in making themselves and relatives happy with the gifts of the Emperor and Empress. Some of the old people, in passing out, seemed to pay more attention to the good things that accompanied them than to all that was transpiring around them. The ceremony of the feet-washing was now concluded, and its brilliancy, gorgeousness, pride, and vanity |