these then arduous Circuits were prized and improved. Indeed, through life, my father was a most careful and laborious sermonizer. When practicable, the Monday morning was employed in roughly sketching out the subjects upon which he purposed preaching on the following Sabbath; his reading and meditation during the week being made to bear upon the elucidation of his chosen themes. The evidences of his conscientious and painstaking care in this most vital part of ministerial work are found in piles of discourses, carefully written, elaborately finished, and very extensive in their range of topics.

A friend, writing about his reminiscences of Stafford, says, "It was in August, or September, 1881, that I first heard Mr. Tindall preach. It was his first sermon at Stafford. The text was, Romans ii. 6-11: Who will render to every man according to his deeds,' etc. I shall never forget the effect of that discourse. There was fire, fluency, and pathos, which captivated and impressed my youthful heart." The same person bears pleasing testimony to my father's kindly attentions to the young in directing their studies, as also to his profound solicitude for their religious decision. The Rev. James Allen, who was a colleague in Stockton, writes thus:-"It is my impression that no man has done Mr. Tindall justice as a preacher. The ministry he exercised at Stockton was remarkable for its variety, its freshness, its fulness of instruction, its wise and honest and thorough dealing both with truth and his hearers, and, above all, for its spiritual unction and power." His preaching was in fact eminently clear, practical, and instructive. In subsequent years there was less fire than in his youthful days, and a certain hesitancy of manner which might sometimes impress an audience unfavourably; but these drawbacks were amply compensated by the depth, perspicuity, ripeness of Christian experience, and great variety which characterized his later ministrations.

My father was appointed to Congleton in 1833. During his three years' residence there, dark clouds gathered and broke over the Connexion. Congleton did not suffer much from that agitation, only three out of the twenty-five Societies being affected; and, when an unhappy rupture in the Congleton Society took place, in 1837, on the subject of permitting writing to be taught in Sunday-schools, he had been some time removed to Rochdale. There is no doubt, however, that the events of 1834 and 1835 led him carefully to study the constitution of Methodism, so that, when still more stirring days came, he was well prepared to deal with difficult and most perplexing constitutional questions. Six months after his removal to Rochdale, the Superintendent, the Rev. John Sumner, died, his decease having been accelerated by the

painful events of the preceding year, when nearly twelve hundred members had separated from the Connexion. The superintendency devolved upon my father. It was a time of trial and anxiety. When entering upon the Circuit, although not naturally demonstrative, he had literally wept over the desolation which he found. But, by God's blessing, prosperity returned; and, when his time. came for leaving, it was found that nearly six hundred members had been added to the Societies. Wakefield was the next sphere of labour, in which he remained only two years. This, however, serves to bring out a striking characteristic. The Superintendent's action had not been acceptable in certain influential quarters, so that he did not receive an invitation to continue in the Circuit a third year. My father was desired to remain; but, fully approving of the course his chief had adopted, he preferred sharing the same lot.

There are no circumstances calling for comment in connection with the years 1841-1847, which were spent in the Cheltenham and Hammersmith Circuits. But the remove to Lynn, in 1847, approaches a most critical period. Perhaps we are too near, even now, to the stormy events of nearly a quarter of a century ago, calmly to write or think about them. But justice to the memory of the dead demands allusion to the unswerving integrity, the firm and fearless front, and the eminently judicious action which my father displayed in the lamentable conflicts of 1849. Many carefully-preserved documents, relating to the Norwich and Lynn District during that period, are before me. After examining them with great attention, I am convinced they fully sustain the re-approval of his conduct, in those bitter years, which he expressed when speaking on the subject during his last illness. Times of trouble brought out his distinguishing characteristics. He was calm in temperament, deliberate in forming his judgments, unflinching in his attachment to principle; and upon fitting occasions could make his power felt with overwhelming effect. A son's opinion may be suspected of partiality; but whilst knowing this, I cannot forbear expressing the belief that Methodism in Norfolk owes Samuel Tindall, under God, a great debt. His advice was repeatedly sought in great emergencies; his presence was often desired in Circuits torn by dissension, and disorganized by clamour and he was always ready. What he suffered from ill-will, misrepresentation, and slander, we have no heart to try to describe; but would rather indulge in an extract or two from highly-prized letters of eminent brother ministers. Dr. Bunting says, in a communication written when the storm was past:-"I have deeply sympathized with you in your peculiar trials, and have often blessed you in my inmost soul for the fidelity

and ability which you have been enabled to display." It was no small satisfaction, when he was confined to his room by his last affliction, to learn the estimate formed of his past services by the venerable Rev. Thomas Jackson, who wrote me thus:-"I have long loved and esteemed your father as one of the most faithful and useful men in the entire body of Methodist preachers. His firmness and fidelity in our Connexional troubles I can never forget." Dr. Osborn, in a letter of sympathy, bears similar testimony:-" In Mr. Tindall's decease I have lost a valued friend, whose steady adherence to principle, and Christian meekness in suffering for the right, often won my admiration, and will long be remembered by those who had the opportunity of witnessing them." The Conference of 1850 unanimously presented its thanks to him for his Christian fidelity, and in 1853 he was elected a member of the Legal Hundred. These expressions of confidence were ever held in grateful recollection. Next to the favour of God, nothing is dearer to the heart of a true Methodist preacher than the good-will and esteem of his ministerial brethren.

From Lynn my father removed to York, where many difficulties, the fruits of the agitation above referred to, confronted him. They were successfully overcome, and signs of prosperity began to show themselves. About the Christmas of 1851, he was laid aside by sudden and serious illness, being the only time during forty-three years that he was compelled for a while to suspend his active ministry. Writing to the President for a "supply," he expresses his gratitude to God for the sweet assurance of His love with which he was blessed and supported when the attack seemed most serious. "Thank God!" he concludes, "I felt myself upon the Rock."

The next fourteen years were spent in Huddersfield, SheffieldWest, Scarborough, Stockton-on-Tees, and Derby. The usual routine of a Methodist preacher's work belonged to him in these Circuits, including chapel-building and chapel-restoring, of which he seemed to have a considerable share.

When appointed to Derby, at the Conference of 1864, my father was in good and robust health. He had been privileged, through his long and active life, with more than average freedom from illness; and for two years he discharged his duties as Superintendent with great efficiency and ability; so that when he entered upon his third year there appeared every reasonable prospect of his valuable services being prolonged. But it was otherwise ordained. Travelling from Manchester to Preston, in November, 1866, on a visit to one of his sons, he was exposed for many hours to a bitter, piercing wind, through a railway accident. This was soon followed by a violent attack of spasms of the heart. Writing

to one of his children, when somewhat recovered, he describes his thoughts and feelings when, apparently upon the verge of the grave, he had given up all hope of seeing his family again. He was ready to depart, but God mercifully held back the summons until his faithful servant had been mellowed and sanctified by suffering.

As the Conference of 1867 approached, when his residence in Derby would necessarily close, it was thought that, in a milder climate, and a less arduous sphere, his ministry might still be profitably exercised. There was great but natural reluctance to retire at once from the activities of ministerial life. He clung, perhaps too tenaciously, to the work in which his best energies had been spent, hoping that a few years might still be allowed him ere the Master should say, "It is enough." An appointment to Exeter appeared exactly suited to his enfeebled condition; but it proved unfortunate. The labour was too much for him; difficulties which he would have treated lightly, if possessed of the strength of former years, now greatly harassed him; and, besides, he felt himself cast amongst comparative strangers. Altogether, the year was one of great anxiety. He felt unable to discharge his duties with his wonted efficiency, although he was ably supported by the Rev. David Barley, his colleague, whose devotion, kindness, and Christian sympathy were beyond praise. At intervals he suffered severely. An attack of illness, preceding the May District Meeting, compelled him to forego the anticipated pleasure of taking his accustomed seat among his brethren; but when he did appear among them for a few minutes, to declare his unabated attachment to Methodism, his reception was most affecting. The ministers rose to greet their invalid Chairman, and, with many expressions of deep sympathy, passed a Resolution of affectionate condolence with him.

Little did my father think, when he left Exeter on the 27th of May, 1868, on a visit to Leicester, that he was coming among his children to die. Soon after his arrival, the appearance of fresh symptoms excited the fears of his family. No one was more conscious of the change than the patient sufferer himself, who watched, with strange minuteness, the variations of the disease. But the near approach of death caused him no apprehensions. One remarkable alteration did occur, however, which occasioned surprise amongst those even who knew my father best. During life he had been unusually reticent as to his own religious experience; indeed, on this subject, he had maintained great reserve. But, if the waters were still, time has proved them to have been deep. As the end drew nigh, this reserve gave way, and he has left abundant evidence of his great joyousness and remarkable spiritual tri

umphs. Upon one occasion he said, "It is astonishing how God has enabled me, in one thing after another, to yield my will to His, and to give up even my most cherished wishes. It has cost me a struggle, but His grace has enabled me to do it; and now, though my cup is full of bitter ingredients, I can drink it cheerfully, and say, Thy will be done.'" Alluding to the past, he observed that, although he had often wandered from the right way, his departures had only been temporary. "I have," he said, "invariably kept a place to which I could go, and make matters right with God. When my spirit has been ruffled, or when specially tried, I have found my way there, and, after communion with God, I have always got right again."

To the many personal friends who visited him in his illness he freely opened his mind, never missing an opportunity of declaring "how great things the Lord had done for him." When one of his medical attendants remarked that, if there was anything he desired to arrange, it should be attended to at once, he immediately replied, "Doctor, I have no cares and no anxieties, either for this world or the next. I won't have them. I have cast them all aside." And it was really thus. Powerfully sustained by Divine grace, he seemed to have no solicitude. He was not indifferent about the future of his family; but, having settled everything he could, he was content. His house was in order. When hearing from an old friend that it would afford him great pleasure if he would join him at the seaside, he said, "Tell him I am going to the finest of watering-places,-where the water of life runs right through the city, and the inhabitants are never sick." One Sunday morning he quoted the verses,

"My Saviour, Thou Thy love to me

In shame, in want, in pain hast show'd;
For me, on the accursed tree,

Thou pouredst forth Thy guiltless blood:
Thy wounds upon my heart impress,
Nor aught shall the loved stamp efface.

"In suffering be Thy love my peace;

In weakness be Thy love my power;
And when the storms of life shall cease,

Jesus, in that important hour,
In death as life be Thou my Guide,
And save me, who for me bast died."

The sentiment of these lines was very pleasing to him; and, pointing first to one hand and then to the other, he exclaimed, "The blood! the blood! It is all through the blood! What are vestments, candles, incense to me? If the room were full of them, I should put them all out. They are nothing. It is the blood!" At another time he said, "When God comes over me, it breaks up