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AN INTERESTING ANECDOTE OF THE LATE PRESIDENT GARFIELD.
Irecall an incident which has been related else-
where, and which speaks for itself. Our classmates,
many of them, had been spending a Fourth of July
on the top of Grey Lock Mountain, having an up-
roariously “ good time,” as college boys are apt to do
when let loose for a day's recreation. As night

gut-liered about them—-for they were to spend the
night the1*e-our classmat-e. taking a. Testalment f rom
his pocket, said to his (f()ll'lI)1tIllOI1S : “ Boys, I 1‘en(l a
vlmpter every 11i,ql1t simultaneously with my mother.
If you please, 1 will read it aloud.” And afterwards
he asked the oldest of them to lead in prayer.
CYCLOPEDIA
OF
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS
ANECDOTESI
A COLLECTION OF NEARLY THREE THOUSAND FACTS, INCIDENTS, NARRATIVES,
EXAMPLES AND TESTIMONIES, CONTAINING THE BEST OE THE KIND IN
MOST FORMER COLLECTIONS AND SOME HUNDREDS IN ADDITION,
ORIGINAL AND SELECTED, THE WHOLE CRITICALLY AR-
RANGED AND CLASSIFIED ON A NEW PLAN,
WITH COPIOUS TOPICAL AND SCRIP-
TURAL INDEXES.
BY REV. KAZLITT _éRVINE, A.M.
AND
AN INTRODUCTION BY REV. GEORGE B. CHEEVER, D.D.

NEW YORK:
R. WORTHINGTON, 7'70 BROADWAY.
1881.
COPYRIGHT,
1881, 6
BY R. WORTHINGTON.
INTRODUCTION.
THE importance of illustration for the purpose of enforcing truth is so obvious,
that it seems a work of supererogation to say one word concerning it. Much has '
been said in books of rhetoric in regard to the use of figures, tropes, metaphorsL
and so forth, to add animation to style, and vigor and beauty to eloquence. But
the best rhetorical rules will be insensibly discovered and adopted by the mind
itself, in familiarity with the most thoughtful, suggestive, and illustrative writers.
Principal Campbell, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, observes, that the senator
and the lawyer, in the matter of eloquence, have the advantage of the preacher,
because, their subject is generally persons, while his is mainly things. A
preacher ought, therefore, to endeavor to personzfy, as far as possible, the things
of his argument, the truths he is called to announce ; putting them in the shape
of persons, and showing them in action. Interesting relations of fact, will some-
times accomplish this object with great power and success.
In the selection and use of such facts, there is need of judgment. A greater
benefit can hardly be bestowed upon the cause of truth, than a good collection
of authentic and interesting points in the current of man’s life and God’s pro-
vidence. Such an encyclopedia may be a book of reference, in which a man
may often find materials to enliven and render attractive a discourse which
might otherwise have proved very dull, or to fasten on the conscience a truth
or a warning, which otherwise would have fallen on the ear unnoticed, and
glided past the mind unfelt. It is not enough that truth be pointed, like a straight,
smooth piece of steel ; it needs side points, as a dart, that it may not draw out,
when it effects an entrance. Sometimes, a discourse may be so smooth, so
polished, and pointed so finely, that it may go quite through the understanding
and the heart, without stopping in it, or leaving any trace of its passage. It is a
great mistake to have truth go through its mark, and fall out and be lost on the
other side. '
Barbed arrows are good, not for the purpose of inflicting unnecessary pain,
but of compelling notice ; they may be barbed With anecdote and illustration, in
such a way, that it shall be hardly possible for them to fail. But barbs alone
are useless. An archer would be poorly ofl‘, if he had nothing in his quiver but
arrow-heads or feathers. For an illustration to be useful or successful, there
must be something to be illustrated. A sermon made up of anecdotes and
flowers, is quite as deficient as a sermon of the driest abstractions.
Anecdotes and illustrations, may not only illustrate a point, and make an
audience see and feel the argument, but they may themselves add to the argu-
ment; they may be at once a part of the reasoning, and an elucidation of it.
Indeed a just figure always adds power to a chain of logic, and increases the
amount of truth conveyed. It is also of great use in relieving the attention; as
a stopping place where the mind is rested, and prepared to resume the reasoning
without fatigue, without loss. Almost any expedient, which decorum permits,
may be justified in order to prevent drowsiness, keep the mind awake, and fix
the attention of an audience. Nevertheless, such attention, however it may
be gained by extraordinary expedients, cannot be kept but by truth worth illus-
trating.
We have heard of an eccentric preacher, who had a church member named
Mark, in the habit of sleeping under the discourses of his pastor. One day, in
‘J16 midst of his sermon, the preacher, being about to enunciate an important
Zfifi13@
INTRODUCTION .
~. -

text, raised his voice, exclaiming, “ Mark! Mark! Mark I” The unfortunate
church dreamer, taken suddenly in the depths of a profound nap, started bolt up-
right, in the midst of the congregation, at the call, when the preacher continued,
“Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is
ace 1”
Now a forcible illustration, a vivid, or pathetic, or exciting apologue, or in
cident, or fact, answers all the purpose of such eccentricities, in waking the
mind from its slumbers. The hearer feels as if he were addressed by name,
when the preacher sends the truth, thus clothed, thus armed, home upon him.
Dr. Abercrombie speaks of the importance of illustrations and analogies, for
assisting and training the memory of children. The same discipline is equally
necessary for the hearers of sermons. Although they may have forgotten the
text, the subject, and almost the whole design of the preacher; they will not un-
freqnently carry away the illustrations, and every thing in the train of thought
lying immediately in their neighborhood. And, indeed, a single illustration will
sometimes flash the meaning of a whole sermon upon minds that otherwise would
have departed scarcely knowing the application of a sentence.
Unfortunately, some men are so habitually destitute of any thing approximat
ing to the nature of illustration, so neglectful of it, so monotonous in the abstract
mould of their discourses, that the unexpected introduction of a story or even a
pointed comparison or incident, would rouse the congregation, almost as
thoroughly, as if the preacher were to carry a loaded pistol into the pulpit, and
fire it off at the third head of his discourse. How is it possible for an
audience to be interested 'or stirred, even by the most important truth, if pre.
sented so monotonously, and in mere generalities’.l
The hearers of the gosnel, are like poor men coming to be clothed from a
public charity. If you give them cloth in the piece, they will dispose of it as
they can, and keep their own rags. But if you have it made up, and give them
plain, well-fitting garments, they will be likely to put them on and wear them.
The truths of the gospel should, as much as possible, come saying, thou art the
man. It is not necessary for this purpose to add, thou David, or thou Mark,
unless it be by private expostulation, where this is needed. An authentic in-
cident, a forcible illustration, a striking analogy, a recorded case, will often so
point the moral, that the consciences of all may apply it, without being afraid
lest others should see them putting on the coat.
Illustrations from Divine Providence, especially in Christian biography, but
also in history, in particular interpositions, and in marked steps in all men’s
lives, are a great help in fastening Divine truth. If a preacher merely say, I
will tell you what such or such a person said to me, even that may fasten a ser
men. It is like driving a nail into the mind, and hanging up the lesson upon it.
“The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of as-
semblies.” Cecil records the effect of a few such words driven unexpectedly
into his own mind, by a plain man from the country, who said to him one day,
as he was coming out of the church, that men might cheer themselves in the
morning, and they might pass on tolerably well, perhaps, without God at noon;
but the cool of [he day was coming, when God would come down to talk with them.
Cecil says that he had himself been some time in a dry, fruitless frame, but per.
suading himself that all was going on well, when it pleased God to shoot an
arrow, by the hand of this simple but weak minister, into. his heart. It was a
message from God; he felt as though God had descended into the church, and
was about to call him to his account.
New this was a goad, a nail, unconsciously driven by one of his hearers, into
the conscience of the master of the assembly himself. The hearer gave the
preacher an illustration that fastened his own sermon. And how much good
Cecil himself may have afterwards accomplished, simply by repeating that same
message, none can tell. Sometimes, when we come upon such landing plac"9
6
INTRODUCTION.
'_
tn the midst of a sermon, it is like anchoring at a verdant island, after a some-
what tiresome sail You remember the lake itself more by the island in the
midst of it, and by what happened there, than by the smooth expanse of water.
We once heard the preaching of Rev. Christopher Anderson of Edinburgh,
author of of the Annals of the English Bible, and other works. Although the
whole sermon was deeply interesting, we cannot now recall but one thing in it,
and that was a striking saying of the eminent and excellent Andrew Fuller,
which Mr. Anderson gave, as spoken by Mr. Fuller to himself. Ah, dear bro-
ther, said that man of God, there was never but one being in this World, who
could say, when he died, 11‘. is finished.’ We have to leave all our works un-
finished. But we must work on, and do what we can, while the day lasts, and
then we shall know all.
Every one must have observed the effect of the introduction of such lights and
illustrations, upon an audience. The whole assembly may have appeared up to
that point uninterested, listless, even oppressed with stupor. But the moment
the preacher says, I will illustrate this point, by a relation of what took place in
the life of such or such a person, an entire change comes on the whole congre-
gation. Every countenance is lighted up with expectation, every mind is on the
alert, every ear is open and attentive. Even if the preacher simply says, We
will suppose a case, for the purpose of illustration; we will suppose a man
placed in such or such a position, involved in such or such an emergency, or
having committed such or such a crime. Even then, the attention of the hearers
is at once aroused. The presentation of actual facts, or cases of interest in point,
is so attractive, that if real incidents are not at hand, it were better to suppose
them, than leave the subject without such illustration, in instances where it ad-
mits of it. Accordingly, in the Scriptures, and in the discourses of our blessed
Lord, it is evident that suppositions are made, and fables are related, to illustrate
and enforce truth, to give it life and action.
This constituted a powerful charm in our Savior’s preaching, even for those
who cared nothing for the spiritual lessons he was enforcing. The beauty and
exceeding aptness of his cases and illustrations, may have caught many a care-
less soul, when the bare, dry truth, would have failed to touch the heart.
The truth that a man is miserable, who layeth up treasure for himself, and is not
rich towards God, might have been stated in ever so forcible language, without
reaching the conscience of the hearers. But when our Lord proceeded to say,
The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully; with the solemn close
of the apologue, Thou fool! this night th soul shall be required of thee! what
conscience could remain unmoved’.2 Ff may have been under some such
application, that Joseph of Arimathea himself was arrested and brought to re-
pentance.
The hearers of our blessed Lord were so deeply interested and absorbed in
such narratives, that sometimes they seem to have forgotten that they were
merely illustrative relations ; and interrupted him, carried away by their feelings,
or desiring the thread of the narrative to unwind differently; as in the case
when they broke in upon one of his parables with the declaration, Lord, he hath
ten pounds already! One can see the company, their interest, their eagerness,
the truth taking hold upon them ; we can hear their exclamations, as if a drama
of real life were enacting before them. And it was life, taken out of the form
of abstract truth. and dramatized for their life, their instruction.
Much depends, we might almost say every thing depends, upon the manner,
the feeling, the purpose, with which the parable, or illustration, or incident, is
introduced and told. If it grows out of the subject and heart together, it makes
a. powerful impression. To use a familiar phrase, it tells. If well told it tells,
and it is well told when it comes warm from the heart; and in that way, al-
though gained from abroad, becomes like the mind’s own creation, like an origi-
nal part of the argument or persuasion of a mind glowing under the excitement
7
INTRODUCTION.
-.---n
of truth, and intent on fastening it upon others. Illustrations, incidents, ex.
periences, which have deeply impressed ourselves, will make a deep impression
upon others, if related in the simplicity and solemnity of the same feeling with
which the Spirit and the providence of God invested them in our own consciousness.
Old things become new; tame and common things become inexplicably and
unexpectedly charged with life and interest;~ truisms become mighty discoveries,
issuing from the mint of personal and deep feeling. And the feeling, in such a
case, is the best guide of the manner and the judgment. ,
One of the most remarkable preachers ever heard in England, was old Hugh
Latimer, the venerable martyr of the early Reformation. No man, with such
a fund of native humor and satire, ever went so deep and so familiarly into
men’s consciences. He owed not a little of his power to the use he made of
anecdote and incident. He was like a master, converting the Scriptures them-
selves into a pictorial story-book for his children, and studying it with them.
Sometimes his preaching consisted very much in personal recollections and ex-
periences, with accounts of the dealings of God with individual consciences; so
that some of the most interesting notices of the English Reformation, are now to
be derived from his sermons. He knew how to seize hold of occurrences that
were exciting interest among the people, and to turn them to their profit in the
gospel.
John Bradford, Latimer’s interesting convert, a child of God by some years
after him, but a martyr by some months before him, was anothe‘ remarkable
preacher, of great power in dealing with the conscience and the heart. He was
full of penitence and prayer; and as it was Latimer’s searching and personal
appeals to the conscience, that were blest of God for his conversion, the mantle
of his spiritual father seemed to have descended on the son; and in a still loftier
style, but with much of Latimer’s power of illustration, especially from the
Scriptures, he poured the truth burning upon men’s minds. One of his contem-
poraries tells us, that “he used to make unto himself a journal, in which he used
to write all such notable things as either he did see or hear each day that
passed; but whatever he did hear or see, he did so pen it, that a man might see
in that book the signs of his smitten heart; for if he did see or hear any good
in any man, by that sight he found and noted the want thereof in himself, and
added a short prayer, craving mercy and grace to amend. If he did hear or
see any plague or misery, he noted it as a thing procured by his own sins, and
still added, Lord have mercy upon me.” Now, in this habit of close dealing
with himself, and noting and applying the ways of God’s providence and man’s
guilt, we see the secret of his power over others, and of his happy faculty in
apt and quick Christian reproof, which, says one who knew him, he used with
such Divine grace and Christian majesty, that ever he stopped the mouths of
gainsayers; speaking with such power, and yet so sweetly, that they might
see their evil to be evil, and his good to be good.
In modern times, one of the most eminent examples of power in the use of
incident, in illustrating and enforcing Divine truth, is that of W'hitefield. He
drew thousands upon thousands to hear him, Who probably never would have
come to listen, or never stayed a sermon through, but for his wonderful fertility
and quickness in the dramatic applications of his subject. He was master of
such pathos and naturalness, in describing events illustrative of the grace of God,
the solemnity of Divine Providence, the power of conscience, and the nearness
of eternal realities, that his facts seemed to come flaming from the fire of his
feelings, by which he burnt them in upon the soul, and the truths of his subject
along with them. An old fact put on a startling aspect in his hands; he galva-
nized every incident, and then threw it, in an electric stream, upon the conscience.
He had a most inimitable ease and happiness in the introduction of occur-
rences into his sermon, that had fallen under his own observation, or had been
related to him by others. He brought out the meaning of them, and traced
INTRODUCTION.

their application, with such natural art, and spontaneous deep feeling, that they
seemed a new revelation of truth, even to the original narrator of them. A
clergyman of this country states, that he once told an affecting occurrence to Mr.
Whitefield, relating it, however, With but the ordinary feeling and brevity of a
passing conversation; when afterwards, on hearing Mr. \/Vhitefield preach, up
came his own story, narrated by the preacher in the pulpit, with such nature,
pathos, and power, that the clergyman himself, who had furnished Vllhitefield
with the dry bones of the illustration, found himself weeping like a child. The
tones of the soul possess an intensity and penetrating depth of feeling to subdue
the soul; and Vl/hitefield, amidst all the thunder of a voice that could be heard
to an incredible distance, spake with the 2507266 3]" the soul; and his gestures
were impelled by the same spontaneous, magic iniluence, that made them, as
well as his Words, seem part of the soul. According to the common saying,
so common that we forget the depth of meaning it covers up, he threw his soul
into them.
And yet it is said that Whitefield, when a boy, had been taught to ridicule
this way of preaching in others. There was an excellent, familiar, plain minis-
ter named Cole, whose manner would seem to have been in some way so original
as to excite notice, but whose method of story-telling drew young Vi/hitefield’s con-
tempt. One of the congregation, asked the lad one day, what business he
intended to pursue? He said he meant to be a minister; but he would take care
never to tell stories in the pulpit, like old Cole. About twelve years afterwards,
when Whitefield had begun his career of flame, this old gentleman heard him
preach, illustrating, in his own powerful way, the application of his subject by
some interesting narrative. “ I find,” said he, “ that young \Vhitefield can now
tell stories, as well as old Cole.” Some of young Whitelield’s stories may have
been, indeed, the very same as old Cole’s; but they had a new power, because
they came from the young man’s soul, and not from the more lumber-room
of the memory.
This alchemy of fervent love to Christ and to souls, this power of intense
religious feeling, turns all things into gold, creates out of all knowledges, arts,
stories in the memory, all scenes of observation, all experiences, inward and
external, the means and materials of a vivid eloquence. But there must be dis-
cipline of mind, to save even religious feeling from being wasted, and the stores
of the memory Wantoned-away. There may be an idle habit of profuse story-
telling, that, as we have hinted, is almost worse than no illustration at all. It is a
poor resort to drag in stories merely to help out a sermon, or to conceal the want
of thought. It is like our city milkmen stopping at the last pump, and filling their
cans with water, when the milk threatens to give out. There must be though! ;
and true religious feeling, in a well disciplined mind, prorluccs thought, more
than all things else together; and then illustrations will be used, not for mere
amusement, but to convey thought, and make it suggestive and productive. Ha-
bits of close attention, Cowper says:
Habits of close attention, thinking heads,
Become more rare, as dissipation spreads,
Till authors hear at length one general cry,
Tickle and entertain us, or we die.
1‘he desire to be tickled is not confined to the dissipated readers of a triflmg
literature. Sometimes, the preacher becomes to the congregation “as a very
lovely song of one that bath a pleasant voice, and can play well upon an instru-
ment ;” and they go to church mainly to hear the music, and be amused. In-
stead of going to muse upon the things of God, they go to be a-mused, and drawn
away from them. In this case, if the fault be in the preacher, there is, as John
Randolph once said, both a lg/re and a liar in the pulpit ; and the preacher is a
liar, because he is merely a lyre, to play them a pleasant tune.
A man must have the magnificent anatomy of the doctrines of the gospel, to be
INTRODUCTION.
—-—_-v--- ,.

-7
Glothed upon with his illustrations and feelings, or else he might as well be con
structing a balloon. When those great doctrines occupy and absorb the soul,
being doctrmes of life, and not speculation merely, illustration and intense feeling
will grow out of them, and grow upon them, and that is the perfection of
eloquence. The trite old rhetorical maxim, Ars est cc/are artem, is only a piece
of rhetorical foolery or hypocrisy, having no place, where there is real, deep
heavenly interest in the subject, where the mind is kindled upon it. And illus-
tration, to quote again a few lines from our sweet English Christian Poet, with
the change of a word:
For illustration, choose what theme we may,
And chiefly when religion leads the way,
Should flow hke waters after summer showers,
Not as if raised by mere mechanic powers.
This is the secret of familiar, life-giving instruction with children. To attract
them, we must, in a measure, be their playmates, and draw them on, and draw
out their minds in companionship with our own, in illustrations that shall seem
to delight us as much as them.
And here we come upon another great use of the excellent and import-
ant volume, to which these thoughts are introductory, that of interest and
instruction in Sabbath schools. A fund of authentic stories and anecdotes, moral,
providential, religious, is to Sabbath school teachers invaluable. And such
should know how to apply them. They should be at pains to gather and select
them for their purpose. One or two little stories happily told, or the simplest
anecdotes or incidents dwelt upon with interest, and bringing the lesson home to
the heart, may make each exercise an enjoyment instead of a task, a delight
instead of a mere duty. The teacher may present apples of gold in baskets of
silver, and every youthful mind will take home a part of the fruit, and keep it.
The trutn so presented, the lesson so inculcated. Will stay in the memory, will
circulate in the understanding, as the air does in a room, instead of knocking at
the door in vain for admittance. A child receives truth into the mind, presented
in lively and interesting incident, as a quiet unruflied lake receives into its bosom
the reflection of the sky and the clouds above it, or the trees and flowers upon its
margin. There is nothing so susceptible of impression as a child’s mind to
Divine truth, when it comes in the shape of a story or a life, told in a winning,
familiar, affectionate manner.
Here it is that teachers are often extremely deficient ; and here is the reason
why the pupils of one class will sometimes be charmed with their Sabbath exer-
cises, so that the Sabbath shall be the day to which, perhaps, they look forward
with more pleasure than to any other in the week; while those of another find
the same lessons tiresome, and the Sabbath without delight. One teacher en-
livens the exercise With anecdote, drawing from the Scriptures and from real
life, a variety of beautiful proof and illustration; the other merely presents the
truth in the abstract, dry form of question and answer, without life, without
incident. A teacher had better, every Sabbath, tell something to awaken an
interest, even if disconnected from the lesson, than leave his little class without
such attraction. A volume which provides the materials of such interest, is a
great and important gift, to the Sabbath school, the social circle, and the fimily
fireside.
The use of the pictorial, whether in words or engravings, is an element of
indispensable importance and incalculable power. The enemies of God, of the
truth, and of the soul, employ it with dreadful art and energy for the destruction
of men in sin, for awakening anddepraving the passions, and then supplying
them with pernicious gratifications and fiery stimulants. Let good men take the
art of illustration, and use it for God, for heaven, for the salvation of the soul.
GEORGE B. CHEEVER.
It.
PREFACE.
ORIGIN AND DESIGN or THE Worm.-One of the best means which I have found to
fasten moral and religious truths on the popular mind, is to present them clothed in tangible
forms, as in anecdotes, historical sketches, and kindred illustrations. They do much, when
rightly used, to enlist attention, convince the judgment, and persuade the heart. I have
often seen the truth of the proverb, “ One fact is worth a ship-load of arguments.” As we
might naturally suppose, an example of virtue is more forcible than a precept, because men
are more ready to imitate than they are to obey. And citing an instance of the effects of
sin, often tells more loudly than a lecture against it; because men more readily imagine
fallacy in our logic than falsehood in our statements, and give more deference to the doings
of God than to the sayings of man. Besides, in most men, the perceptive predominate over
the reflective faculties; hence, fact and incident which strike the former, are more easily
remembered than trains of reasoning which appeal to the latter.
The great moral uses of such illustrations in the family and social circle, in the Sabbath
scnool and the pulpit, have not only been proved in my own experience, but I find that the
experience of many others is similar to mine. To supply, therefore, their wants and my
own, I have devoted much time and pains for two or three years past, to the preparation of
the present work.
CHARACTER or THE I/Vonn.—The anecdotes, incidents, and historical sketches, here
assembled, are moral and relig'ous ; a wider range of subjects would have made the work
too costly and cumbersome. A large and interesting class of materials, embracing anecdotes
used in the way of simile or comparison, striking analogies, parables, and the like, have
been omitted on the same account: I intend before long to publish them in a separate
volume.
Many of the anecdotes here presented, are, of course, adapted rather to the fireside, the
Sabbath school, and the platform, than to the pulpit : what are adapted to the latter, and
what are not, the preacher qualified for his office, is qualified to decide.
A large portion of the anecdotes of this volume have been more or less abridged, and
many partly or wholly re-written ; thus, the number embraced in such a volume is far more
extensive, and the truths they prove or exemplify, are, I trust, rendered more clear and
distinct to the mind. All strictly sectarian anecdotes have been avoided. The writer has
introduced no anecdotes which he considered of doubtful or apocryphal character. But in
most cases he has not deemed it important to give the original authorities. As a general
thing, anecdotes rather secure credence by being true to nature, than by being vouched
for by this or that witness, unless he be a person whom we greatly confide in.
SOURCES AND EXTENT or THE WVORK.-In preparing this volume, I have gone over
nearly all former collections published in this country and Great Britain, (amounting to
scores of volumes,) and have taken from them all the moral and religious portions of much
interest or value. To the twelve volumes published by the London Religious Tract Society,
I am, however, as much indebted as to all the rest. This excellent series was edited by the
Rev. Dr. Belcher, now pastor of a church in Philadelphia; and I may gratefully add that l
have received from him some valuable suggestions and friendly encouragement in the pre-
paration of this work.
5
PREFACE.

-_-_— -

_|_-_
In addition to the above collections, I have examined the files of the religious journals of
our more prominent evangelical denominations ; such as the New-York Observer, New-York
Evangelist, Christian Advocate and Journal, Churchman, Protestant Churchman, Christian
Intelligencer, Boston Recorder, Christian Watchman, Christian Reflector, Millennial Han
binger, and others which it is needless to mention. Magazines, biographies, and similar
works have likewise been consulted. New anecdotes have also been furnished by clergy-
nen and others.
This work, therefore, contains nearly all the best anecdotes of the kind to be found in pre-
vious collections, and several hundred others, original and selected.
ARRANGEMENT, CLASSIFICATION, AND INDEXES.-All anecdotal works which I have
met with, two or three excepted, are of a very miscellaneous and jumbled character and
very deficient in their indexes. Thus they are of very little use as books of reference.
Unless a person has a very tenacious memory, and has read them carefully, it often costs
more time to find some half-forgotten anecdote than it is worth. One great effort of the
writer in this work has been to obviate these difiiculties; to prepare a book which could
be referred to with the greatest possible facility, in the illustration and pointing of truth.
Accordingly, the main topics or subjects follow each other in alphabetical order; and
when the subject is extensive, and the facts numerous, they are placed under those analy-
lical divisions and subdivisions of the subject which they illustrate. In addition to this,
copious topical and Scriptural indexes will be found at the end of the work. Each division
of anecdotes is numbered, 1, 2, 3, &c. ; and each anecdote is marked by the letters of the
alphabet, (a), (b), (c), &c. In the Index, anecdotes are referred to in whole classes, by
the above-mentioned figures, or a particular anecdote is referred to by joining both figure
and letter; thus, 20a, 30b, 40d, &c. With a little practice, therefore, it will be easy for
one but partially acquainted with the contents of the book, to find facts in a moment on any
topic or Scripture, which the facts can illustrate.
In closing, I would very gratefully acknowledge my obligations to the Rev. Francis
Smith, of Providence, R. I., and the Rev. O. B. Judd, of this city, for the valuable assistance
which I have received from them it the prosecution of my labors.
K. ARVINE.
CYCLOPEDIA
OF
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS ANEGDOTES.

ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS.
l. The Pecuniary Advantage of Total
Abstinence.
(a) “THERE GOES A TEETO-
- TALERl”—-A drunkard assailed a
Washingtonian, but could only say,
“ There goes a teetotaler l” The gentle-
man waited until the crowd had collected,
and then, turning upon the drunkard,
said, “ There stands a drunkard l——
Three years ago he had a sum of $800,
now he cannot produce a penny. I
know he cannot. I challenge him to do
it, for if he had a penny he would be at
a public house. There stands a drunk-
ard, and here stands a teetotaler, with a
purse full of money, honestly earned
and carefully kept. There stands a
drunkard l——Three years ago he had a
watch, a coat, shees, and decent clothes;
now he has nothing but rags upon him,
his watch is gone, and his shoes afford
free passage to the water. There stands
a drunkard ; andlhere stands a teetotaler,
with a good hat, good shoes, good clothes,
and a good watch, all paid for. Yes,
here stands a teetotaler! And now, my
friends, which has the best of it ?” The
bystanders testified their approval of the
teetotaler by loud shouts, while the crest-
fallen drunkard slunk away, happy to
escape further castigation.
(b) A SAVING OF FIVEPENCE A
DAY.—-At a meeting, in Birmingham, of

a total abstinence society, the following
statement was made by a working coach
painter, who was called on in his turn
to speak on the subject of temperance.
He said he had made a few calculations
which he wished to communicate, with
the view of showing the pecuniary bene-
fit he had derived during the four years
he had been a teetotal member. Pre-
vious to that time he had been in the
practice of spending, on an average, in
intoxicating drink, fivepence per day, or
£7 12s. 1d. per annum, and which in
four years would amount to £30 8s. 4d.
He would now show how this sum had
been expended during the four years he
had abstained from all intoxicating
drinks. First, it had enabled him to
allow an aged father £3 5s. per annum
towards rent, or in four years, £13.
Secondly, he had entered a benefit so-
ciety, and paid one shilling and seven-
pence per week, or £4 2s. 4d. per an-
num, or £16 9s. 4d. for the four years.
For this payment he secured the follow-
ing advantages: in case of his being dis-
abled from doing his accustomed work by
illness or accident, the society will pay
him eighteen shillings per week, until
restored to health: in case of death, his
widow or rightful heir is entitled to a
bonus of £9, besides half the amount
paid into the society by the deceased up
to the time of his death, with the inter
I3
2 ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS.
--.-.-_--— —-M

est due thereon. Thirdly, it left him
four shillings and ninepence per annum,
or nineteen shillings for the four years,
to be expended in temperance periodi-
cals. It might further be added, that
when the sum of £54 had been paid
into the society’s funds, no further pay-
ment would be required, and the con-
tributor would be entitled to all the
benefits before enumerated; medieine
and medical attendance were included
in the arrangement. Reader, how much
may be done With fivepence a day!
(0) THE BAD LUMP.—The follow-
ing incident we relate on the author-
ity of the old sailor, who delivered a
temperance lecture on board a steam-
boat running between New York and
New Haven.
Having found a man who was divest-
ed of all decent clothing, and in a
wretched state of health in consequence
of drinking, he induced him, amidst
the discouragements of the tavern-keep
er, at whose house he had found him, to
sign the temperance pledge for one
year. The landlord prophesied that
he would not keep the pledge a year, or
that if he did he would never renew it.
As the year was coming to a close,
the old sailor called upon the man,
and secured his signature again. He
signed it for 999 years, with the privi-
lege of a life lease afterward ! When
the day arrived upon which his first
ledge expired, he roguishly went to visit
his old friend the tavern-keeper. “ There
he comes,” (said the eager rum-seller,)
“ he will have a great spree now to pay
for his long abstinence.” When he
arrived at the tavern, he complained of
a bad feeling at his stomach, and of va-
rious evils, among which was a bad
lump on one side, which had been grow-
ing for a number of months. “ Ah,”
said the landlord, “ did I not tell you it
would kill you to break ofi” drinking so
suddenly’.2 I wonder you have lived as
long as you have.—-Come, what it ill
you take ’!” and suiting the action to
the nord, he placed a decanter before
liirri.
“ But,” said the visitor, “ I have sign-
ed the pledge again for 999 years, with
the privilege of a life lease after it!”
" What a fool!” said the landlord;
~ on my side.

“if you go on as you have done, you
will not live another year.”
“ Do you really think so, landlord '2”
“ Certainly. Come, what will you
take '2”
“ Oh no, landlord ; I have signed the
pledge again, and then this terrible lump
I do not believe that drink-
ing will make it any better.”
“ It is ali,” said the landlord, “ be-
cause you left off drinking. You will
have a bigger lump than that on the
other side before long, if you continue
another year as the last.”
“ Do you think I will ’! Well, then so
be it. I will not violate my pleuge, for
look here, landlord, (pulling out a great
purse,with a hundred dollars in silver
shining through the interstices,) that is
my lump which has been growing for so
many months, and, as you say, is all
in consequence of signing the pledge.
This is what you would have bad, if I
had not signed it; and if I have a big-
ger one than that for 999 years, I will
not go to drinking again I”
(03) THE ‘WAY TO PAY RENT.
—A blacksmith in the city of Philadel-
phia, was complaining to his iron mer-
chant that such was the scarcity of money
that he could not pay his rent. The mer-
chant then asked him how much rum he
used in his family, in the course of the
day. Upon his answering this question,
the merchant made a calculation, and
showed him that his rum amounted to
more money in the year than his house-
rent. The calculation so astonished the
mechanic, that he determined from that
day to buy and drink no spirits of any
kind. In the course of the ensuing
year he aid his rent and bought a new
suit of clbthes out of the savings of his
temperance. He persisted in it through
the course of his life, and the conse-
quence was competence and respecta-
bility.
Q. Total Abstinence the only Safe Ground
(a) THE LAST OF THE MOHE-
GANS.—-The Mohegans were an ex
cellent tribe of Indians, who lived about
Norwich, Ct. They had a long line
of kings in the family of 'lncas. One
of the last was Zachary ; but he was a
14
THE ONLY SAFE GROUND. 2

great drunkard. But a sense of the
dignity of his office came over him, and
he resolved he would drink no more.
Just before the annual election, he was
accustomed to go every year to Leba-
non, and dine with his brother Gover-
nor, the first Gov. Trumbull. One
of the Governor’s boys had heard
old Zachary’s story, and thought he
would try him, and see if he would
stick to his cold water. So at table
he said to the old chief :-—-“ Zachary,
this beer is excellent; will you taste it ?”
The old man dropped his knife, lean-
ed forward with stern intensity of ex-
pression, his black eye sparkling with
indignation, was fixed on him: “ John,”
said he, “you do not know what you
are doing. You are serving the devil,
boy I I tell you that I am an Indian !
ltell you that I am; and that ifl should
but taste your beer, I could not stop un-
til I got to ruin, and become again the
drunken, contemptible wretch your fa-
ther remembers me to have been. John,
while you live, never tempt a man to
break a good resolution.”
This story the venerable Col. Trum-
bull tells of himself. Let all our read-
ers remember it, and never tempt a
man to break a ood resolution.
(Z2) THE FATAL TEMPTATION.
——An intemperate man, and one of the
most brilliant gems of the age, made a
desperate effort to reform. For three
months, he promised and confined him-
self to drinks no more stimulating than
tea and coffee. The hopes of his friends
and his country were much excited;
but in an evil hour he was induced to
take a little beer and water. The
slight intoxicating quality contained in
this liquor, lighted up the latent fires
within him. Desire was again renew-
ed ; resolution weakened ; he relapsed.
and went from beer to wine, from wine
to brandy, until reason was dethroned,
and he became a madman.
(c) DRINKING MODERATELY.
-—A gentleman, of the most amiable dis-
positions, had contracted confirmed ha-
bits ofintemperance. His friends per-
suaded him to come under a written
engagement, that he would not drink,
errcept moderately, in his own house, or
the house of a friend. In a few days

he was brought home in a state of
bestial intoxication. His apology to a
gentleman, a short time after, was, that
had the engagement allowed no intoxi-
cating liquor whatever, he was safe;
“ but if,” said he, “I take the half-full
of a thimble, I have no power over my-
self at all.” He practised entire ab-
stinence afterwards, and was strong
and well.
(rt) ORIGIN OF MAHOMET’S
PROHIBETION OF WINE.-“Ma.
homet is said to have been led to put
the prohibition against the use of wine,
in the Koran, by an incident which
occurred to himself. Passing through
a village one day, he was delighted at
the merriment of a crowd of persons
enjoying themselves with drinking at a
wedding party-—but being obliged to
return by the same way next morning,
he was shocked to see the ground, where
they had been, drenched with blood,
and, asking the cause, he was told that
the company had drunk to excess, and,
getting into a brawl, fell to slaughtering
each other. From that day his mind
was made up,-—-the mandate went forth
from Allah, that no child of the faithful
should touch wine, on pain of being
shut out from the joys of Paradise. The
simple truth we suppose to be, that
Mahomet foresaw there would be no
stability to the religion and empire he
was building up, if the use of ardent
spirits was permitted to his followers.”
(e) A CHANGE AND CONTRAST.
—-On an extreme cold night, shivering
by the stove in a grog-shop in Cincin-
nati, sat a young man about twenty-five
years of age, (although he appeared
much older,) who was evidently the
victim of a depraved appetite. His eye,
though swollen and bloodshot, had not
entirely lost the power of its expression,
and a careful observer could discover
that he once possessed a bright intellect
and a commanding genius. He gazed
on vacancy, reflecting perhaps upon the
misery he had brought upon himself
and relatives, in consequence of his
dissipation. He was thinly clad, and
seemed to be laboring under some hor-
rible sensation.
Those who came and went, iooked
with disgust upon him, and then passed
15
'3 ABSTINENCE, TOTAL. FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS.
*1
on. At length, one entered who was
acquainted with him, and after looking
at him for a momen‘, turned upon his
heel and said to the bar-tender:
“ Brown, why do you let such loafers
as that sit here, to the annoyance of
respectable people ?” This last speaker,
whom we will call Somers, was also a
young man, respectably clad, and be-
longed to the same mechanical business,
as did the one whom he was pleased to
term “ loafer.” He was a moderate
drinker, the other a drunkard .' The
bar-tender replied :
“I have told him a number of times
to keep away from the place, and am
determined that if he comes here again
drunk, I will send him, head and heels,
into the street.”
This rebuke cut poor I/Villiam H-—-,
(for that was his name,) to the very
quick. He was not so drunk but that
he could see and understand—nor had
rum entirely obliterated that manly
pride which once burned brightly with-
in his bosom. Although he was degra-
ded,
‘ he had one virtue left;
That true shoot which precept doth inculcate,
And keep the root and trunk alive,-
One virtue—-Manhood !”
He rose and left the
knew nbt whither. *
Two years passed away, and William
H——- had become a Washingtonian,
and a highly respectable member of
society--surrounded by innumerable
friends, who placed the most implicit
confidence in his integrity as a man and
a citizen, and was doing a prosperous
business. One morning, as he took up
the daily paper, his eye fell upon that
department devoted to “Coroner’s in-
quests ”———and, to his utter astonishment
and grief, he read that George Some-rs
had died on the previous day at the
Alms House from the effects of intem-
erance!
f) WESLEY AND THE DYS-
PEPTIC CLERGYMAN.-—When sta-
tioned in the city of Bath, says Rev.
Mr. Towle, I was introduced into the
company of an aged man, whom I un-
derstood to have been intimate with
Mr. Wesley, and once a useful local
preacher. I/Ve entered into com ersation

place to go—he
* * *

,__
about Mr. Wesley’s times, when among
other things he observed,—-“ On one
occasion, when Mr. Wesley dined with
me, after dinner, as usual, I prepared
a little brandy and water. On perceiv-
ing this, with an air of surprise he cried,
--‘ What! my brother, what’s that ‘Z’
‘ It’s brandy,’ said I ; ‘ my digestion is so
bad, I am obliged to take a little after
dinner.’ ‘ How much do you take ’!’ said
he, ‘ let me see.’ ‘Only about a table-
spoonful.’ ‘ Truly,’ said he, ‘ that is not
much ; but one table-spoonful will soon
lose its effect, and then you will t3.K6
two; from two you will get to a full
glass; and that, in like manner, by
habituating yourself to it, will lose its
effect, and then you will take two
glasses, and so on, till in the end, per-
haps you will become a drunkard. O
my brother, take care what you do !’ ”
Happy had it been for that man, if
he had taken the timely warning of his
good friend Wesley. But alas! he
trifled with his little drops, until he
actually did become a drunkard, ruined
his reputation, and at the very time I
had an interview with him, he was a
poor, old, miserable backslider, appa-
rently within a few steps of the grave.
3. Only those who totally abstain exert a
good influence over the Intemperate, or
command respect as Christians.
(a) A DISTILLE-R HOOKED.—-A
Washingtonian in Pennsylvania says,
“ I went to see a distiller and offered him
the pledge to sign. ‘No, sir,’ said he,
‘I manufacture the article, and do you
suppose I would sign’.2 I’ll tell you
what I’ll do,’ said he ; ‘ Ihave a son, and
Ishould be right glad if you could get
him to sign; and you may tell him if
he will, there are five hundred dollars
in the hands of Mr. Taylor, and the
home farm, and he shall have them both
if he signs it.’ Like many a father he
was willing to give any thing but the
influence of example. So off I went in
search of the son. I told him what his
father said. ‘ Well now,’ said he, ‘ how
can you expect me to trot, when daddy
and mammy both paces!’ I turned
round, and went right off after the old
man—-now, said I, what do you say to
16
INFLUENCE AND RESPECT. 3

_—_a-- q_-----.
that’.Z “ Well, sir, ” said he, “I pledge
you my word I never saw it in that light
before ; and I never will drink or man-
ufacture another drop as long as I live ;”
and he put down his name upon the spot.
I took the pledge to the young man with
nis father’s name to it, and he signed it
directly.
([2) WILLIAM LADD AND HIS
\V[NE.—William Ladd was a man al-
ways ready for every good work. He
early enlisted in the cause of Temper-
ance. He had seen so much of the
awful effects of the vice against which
we contend, that he gladly heard and
obeyed the call to be up and doing what
he could to suppress it. But, as he told
me, he for a long while opposed only
the use of distilled spirits, and continued
himself to drink wine daily and freely.
To be consistent, however, he took pains
to send all the way to N ew-York to pro-
cure wine that was not infused with
brandy. And you know, sir, that article
can be readily obtained in that‘city or
our own ; for there are kind, accommo-
dating merchants, who wish to suit
their purchasers so much, that they can
draw you wine with alcohol, or wine
without alcohol, from the same cask.
Well, sir, Mr. Ladd obtained his pure
Wine at a considerable additional ex-
pense, had it conveyed down to Minot,
and carefully bestowed in his cellar, and
continued to regale himself as he saw fit
with his unadulteratedjuice of the grape,
even while he was going about preach-
ing the doctrine of total abstinence. Of
this he made no secret, for he was too
good a man to do that in private which
he was ashamed to acknowledge before
all men. Indeed he did not perceive,
he did not suspect his inconsistency.
But, on a great occasion, at a large
county meeting, he exerted himself more
than ever, and, as he told me, with great
success. “I never,” said he, with his
wonted frankness, “I never made so
good a temperance speech in my life.
I used up the objections of the opposers
of our cause. I thought nobody could
get away from my arguments. I sat
down,” said he, “thinking that he who
could withstand the appeal that I had
made must be a hard one indeed, when
a little crusty-looking man got up in a

-~. _ ._ __ -~

distant part of the house, and merely
said, ‘ Ha, if the squire ’ll give us some
of his good wine, we won’t drink the nas-
ty rum no more.’ ” This was too much
for Mr. Ladd. It revealed to him, as
with a flash, to what little purpose he
had labored. He rose at once before
the assembly, acknowledged his incon-
sistency, renounced from that moment
the use of any and every kind of in-
toxicating drink, resolving, in the spirit
of the apostle, that he would not drink
wine nor any other thing whereby
his fellow man might be led to offend.
This, sir, is the true spirit of our great
reform. For the sake of ourselves, and
for the sake of others, we must abstain
wholly from the use of intoxicating
drinks of every sort. We must show
our faith by our practice.
(0) TIMING IT.—-A minister in the
Highlands of Scotland, found one of his
parishioners intoxicated. The next day
he called to reprove him for it.
“It is very wrong to get drunk,” said
the parson.
“I ken that,” said the guilty person,
“ but then I dinna drink as meikle as
you do !”
“ VVhat, sir! How is that ?”
“ \Vhy, gin it please ye, dinna ye aye
take a glass 0’ whisky and water after
dinner '2” 1
“ ¥Vhy yes, Jemmy, surely I take a
little whisky after dinner merely to aid
digestion.”
“ An dinna ye take a glass 0’ whisky
toddy every night before ye gang to bed ?"
“ Yes, to be sure, I just take a little
toddy at night to help me sleep !”
“ Weel,” continued the parishioner,
“ that’s jist ihurteen glasses a week, an
about sixty every ‘month. I only get
paid off once a month, an then if I’d
take sixty glasses, it wad make me dead
drunk fer a week ;—now ye see the
only difference is, ye time at better than
I do I”
This is pretty much the view most
people take of this matter ; a moderate
drinking clergyman may talk to his
drunken parishioner till doomsday, but
he will never make him a sober man so
long as he drinks himself.
(d) A CONVERT CHARGED
VVITI-I HYPOCRISY.—-It is a fact, of
2
17
4 ABSTINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS.
which I have been but recently con-
vinced, says a writer in the N. Y.
Evangelist,) that the world in general,
those who have no religion, and even
opposers, consider the conversion of
those persons to religion as spurious and
hypocritical, who do not approve of and
practice total abstinence from ardent
spirits.
In a town where there has been a re-
vival the past winter, there is a person
who has been from a child in the habit
of drinking ardent spirit freely, perhaps
almost to excess; and who, until re-
cently, seldom attended a religious
meeting. This individual became a
hopeful subject of renewing grace, and
professed his faith in Christ. So changed,
so exemplary was his walk and conver-
sation, that even the enemies of religion
could have nothing to say against him.
After a while, this person had occasion
to purchase some whisky for medicinal
purposes, and then the cry was raised
against him by opposers, that he had no
religion, and that the’ purchase of the
Whisky proved his hypocrisy !
(6) DEACON BARNES AND THE
DRUNKARD.——A man once addicted
to intemperance, but who for some
months had entirely abstained, though
he had not joined the Temperance Soci-
ety, took occasion not long since to re-
late, in a temperance meeting, his expe-
rience in regard to the influence of tem-
perate drinkers of respectable standing in
society, upon the habits of the drunkard.
“ Many a time,’7 said he, “have I gone
to Captain Johnson’s tavern and waited
for half an hour, or an hour, for some
respectable man to come in and go to
the bar and call for liquor. After a
while, Deacon Barnes would come in
and call for some spirit and water. Then
I could get up to the bar and do as he did.”
Deacon Barnes hearing of this, asked
him if it was so.
“ It is,” said the man.
“ Well,’ ' rejoined the deacon, “you
shall hang on me no longer. I joined
the Temperance Society yesterday.”
“Did you 2”
“ Yes.”
“ ‘Veil, then I will join to-day, for I
can do without liquor as long as Deacon
Barnes can.”

v-
He did join, and remained a cousin
tent temperance man afterwards.
4. Illustrious Examples of Total Absti-
nenca
(a) REFUSING TO DRINK VVINE
I/VITH WASHINGTON. — Towards
the close of the revolutionary war, says
Dr. Cox, an officer in the army had
occasion to transact some business with
General Washington, and repaired to
Philadelphia for that purpose. Before
leaving, he received an invitation to dine
with the General, which Was accepted,
and upon entering the room he found
himself in the company of a large num-
ber of ladies and gentlemen. As they
were mostly strangers to him, and'he
was of a naturally modest and unassum-
ing disposition, he took a seat near the
foot of the table, and refrained from
taking an active part in the conversa-
tion. Just before the dinner was con-
cluded, General Washirigton called him
by name and requested him to drink a
glass of wine with him.
“You will have the goodness to ex-
cuse me, General,” was the reply, “ as
I have made it a rule not to take wine.”
All eyes were instantly turned upon
the young ofiicer, and a murmur of sur-
prise and horror ran around the room.
That a person should be so unsocial and
so mean as to never drink wine, was re-
ally too bad ; but that he should abstain
from it on an occasion like that, and
even when offered to him by Washing-
ton himself, Was perfectly intolerable!
Washington saw at once the feelings of
his guests, and promptly addressed
them :—-“ Gentlemen,” said he, “ Mr.
is right. I do not wish any of my
guests to partake of any thing against
their inclination, and I certainly do not
wish them to violate any established
principle in their social intercourse with
me. I honor Mr. for his frank-
ness, for his consistency in thus adher-
ing to an established rule Which can
never do him harm, and for the adoption
of which, I have no doubt, he has good
and sufiicient reasons.”
(1)) REV. JOSEPH WVOLF AND
THE RECHABITES.—The Rev. Jo.
seph Wolf says :--On my arrival in


18

'3 N‘ 1'02}-
ILLU b'I RIOU S EXAMPLES. 4

Mesopotamia, some Jews that I saw
there, pointed me to one of the ancient
Rechabites. He stood before me, wild,
like an Arab—holding the bridle of his
horse in his hand. I showed him the
Bible in Hebrew and Arabic, which he
was much rejoiced to see, as he could
read both languages, but had no know-
ledge of the New Testament. After
havlng proclaimed to him the tidings of
salvation, and made him a present of the
Hebrew and Arabic Bibles and Testa-
rnents, I asked him,—“ Whose descend-
ant are you 2”
“ Mousa,” said he, boisterously, “ is
my name, and I will show you who
were my ancestors ;” on which he im-
mediately began to read from the fifth
to the eleventh verse of Jeremiah xxxv.
“ Where do you reside '2” said I.
Turning to Genesis x. 27, he replied,
“ At Hadoram, now called Simar by the
Arabs: at Uzal, now called Sanan by
the Arabs ;” and again referring to the
same chapter, verse 30th, he continued,
" At Mesha, now called Mecca, in the
deserts around those places. VVe drink
:10 wine, and plant no vineyard, and
sew no seed ; and live in tents, as Jona-
dab, our father, commanded us: Hobab
was our father too. Come to us, and
you will find us sixty thousand in num-
ber; and you see thus the prophecy has
been fulfilled, ‘ Therefore, thus saith the
Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, Jona-
dab, the son of Rechab, shall not want
a man to stand before me forever;”’
and saying this, Mousa, the Rechabite,
mounted his horse and fled away, and
left behind a host of evidence in favor of
sacred writ.
(c) GOOD EXAMPLE OF A KING.
——A heathen king, who had been for
years confirmed in the sin of drunken-
ness, by the evil practices of white men
on the Sandwich Islands, had been led
to forsake the dreadful habit. He said
lately to a missionary, “Suppose you
put four thousand dollars in one hand,
and a glass of rum in the other. you say
you drink this rum I give you four thou-
sand dollars, I no drink it; you say you
kill me. I no drink it.”
((i) AN EXAMPLE FOR YOUTH.
--A little boy in destitute circumstances
Was put out as an apprentice to a me-

I”

chanic. For some time he was the
youngest apprentice, and of course had
to go upon errands for the apprentices,
and not unfrequently to procure for them
ardent spirits, of which all, except him-
self, partook, because, as they said, it
did them good. He however used none 5
and, in consequence of it, was often the
object of severe ridicule from the older
apprentices, because, as they said, he
had not sufficient manhood to drink rum.
And as they were reveling over their
poison, he, under their insults and cruel-
ty, often retired and vented his grief in
tears. But now every one of tr e older
apprentices, we are informed, is a d.'unk-
ard, or in the drunkard’s grave; and
this youngest apprentice, at whom they
used to scoff, is sober and respectable,
and worth a hundred thousand dollars.
In his employment are about one hun-
dred men, who do not use ardent spirits ;
and he is exerting upon many thousands
an influence in the highest degree salu-
tar , which may be transmitted by them
to future generations, and be the means,
through grace, of preparing multitudes
not only for usefulness and respectability
on earth, but for an exceeding and eter-
nal weight of glory.
(e) A PATRIOT’S RESOLVE.—An
old man of more than fourscore years,
afflicted with a bodily infirmity, for
which he had been advised by a phy-
sician to use ardent spirit as a medicine,
was presented with the total abstinence
ledge. After reading it he said,
“ That is the thing that will save our
eountry—-I will sign it I”
“ No,” said one, “ you must not sign
it, because ardent spirit is necessary for
you as a medicine.”
“I know,” said he, “I have used it,
but if something is not done, our coun-
try will be ruined, and I will not be ac-
cessory to its ruin. I will sign it I”
“ Then,” says another, “ you will
die.”
“ VVell, ” said the old man, in the true
spirit of ’76, “ for my country I can die”
—and he signed the pledge, gave up
his medicine, and his disease fled away.
It was the remedy that kept up the
disease, and when he had renounced the
one, he was relieved of the other. So
it probably would be in nine cases ou1
19
5 ABSTIINENCE, TOTAL, FROM INTOXICATING DRINKS.
_-_-1
of ten where this poison is used as a
medicine.
(f) NOT OLD ENOUGH TO
NEED lT.——When the subject of form-
ing a Temperance Society began to be
agitated in the town of W , it met
with strong opposition from a class of
tmnperafe drinkers. The number, how-
ever, who were ready to join a Society,
was considerable, and their character
and standing in the community, respect-
able. Among this number was a gen-
tleman who had attained the great age
of ninety-one years. VV hen it became
known that this hoary veteran of other
davs was thinking of becoming a mem-
ber of the Temperance Society, some
of his drinking and compassionate neigh-
bors expostulated with him in this man-
ner :-—“ You have occasionally drank a
little spirit during your whole life, and
it has not injured you; surely it would
be folly for you to deny yourself of this
beverage for the little remnant of your
days. Besides, old people, as their
corporeal powers decay, need a little
ardent spirit to sustain them.” The old
man, whose head was whitened with
the frosts of 91 winters, replied—“I do
not know but old people need ardent
spirit; but I am not old enough yet to
need it.”

6. Lessons from the Brntts.
(a) THE MONKEY AND THE
DRUNKARD.—-Mr. Pollard states that
in his drinking days he was the com-
panion of a man in Arundel Co., Mary-
la-nd, who had a monkey which he
valued at a thousand dollars. “We
always took him out on our chesnut
parties. He shook off all our chesnuts
for us, and when he could not shake
them off, he would go to the very end
of the limb and knock them off with
his fist. One day, we stopped at a
tavern and drank freely. About half
a glass of whisky was left, and Jack
took the glass, and drank it all up.
Soon he was merry, skipped, hopped,
and danced, and set us all in a roar of
laughter. Jack was drunk.
“WVe all agreed, six of us, that we
would come to the tavern next day, and
get Jack drunk again. and have snort

'1‘
all day. I called at my friend’s house
next morning, and we went out for Jack.
Instead of being as usual on his box, he
was not to be seen. VVe looked inside,
and he was crouched up in a heap.
‘Come out here,’ said his master. J ack
came out on three legs; his fore-yaw
was upon his head. Jack had the tread-
ache ; I knew what was the matter
with him. He felt just as I felt, many
a morning. Jack was sick and eouldn’t
go. So we waited three days. We
then went, and while drinking, a glass
was provided for Jack. But where was
he’.2 Skulking behind the chairs. ‘Come
here Jack, and drink,’ said his master,
holding out the glass to him. Jack re.
treated, and as the door was opened,
slipped out and in a moment was on top
of the house. His master went out to
call him down, but he would not come.
He got a cow-skin and shook it at him.
Jack sat on the ridge-pole and refused
to obey. His master got a gun and
pointed it at him.. A monkey is much
afraid of a gun. Jack slipped over the
backside of the house. His master
then got two guns, and had one pointed
each side of the house, when the monkey
seeing his bad predicament, at once
whipped up on the chimney and got down
in one of the flues, holding on by his
fore-paws! The master was beaten.
The man kept that monkey twelve years,
but could never persuade him to taste
another drop of whisky. The beast
had more sense than a man who has an
immortal soul, and thinks himself the
first and best of God’s creatures on
earth.”
(1)) AS DRUNK AS A BEAST.-
Wliile Dr. Patton was dining in Lon-
don with a number of the clergy, one
of them remarked, after turning off his
glass of wine, “I do not think I am
called upon to give JP my glass of wine
because some men, oy using it to excess,
make beasts of themselves.” The Doc-
tor replied, he thought great injustice
was done to the beasts by the compari-
son—that quadrupeds might be taken
in once by strong drink, but very rarely
the second time. It was left to intelli-
gent man to follow up the habit until
overtaken by destruction. He instanced
the case of a goat, whose habit was tn
20
LESSONS FROM THE BRUTES. 6
follow his master to a beer shop, where
he would sleep under the table while
his master was drinking; on one oc-
casion, either by fair or foul means, one
of the waiters made the poor goat drunk
on vile beer--but from that time he
Would, as usual, follow his master to his
drinking haunts, but could never again
be tempted to enter, but would wait the
movement of his master outside the
door.
(0) “ DOTH NOT EVEN NA-
TURE HERSELF TEACH '2”-—A
clergyman in one of the towns in the
State of New-York, at the time when
the protests against the use of liquors
became somewhat earnest from the pul-
pit, one Sabbath delivered to his con-
gregation a thorough discourse on the
subject. On their way home, some of his
hearers inquired of each other, “ What
does all this mean '2” One gentleman,
who professed some shrewdness of guess-
ing, said, “I will tell you, gentlemen,
what is the difficulty; we have none of
us sent Mr. any thing to replenish
his decanter lately. And my advice is
that we attend to the matter.” Accord-
ingly, on Monday, a full-sized demijohn
of “ old spirits,” or “ cogniac,” was sent
to Rev. Mr. , accompanied with a
very polite note requesting his accept-
ance of it, from a few friends, as ,a
testimony of their regard.
Our worthy clergyman felt himself
at first in somewhat of a dilemma. But
wit, invention, and a good conscience,
are sometimes found in close companion-
ship; and they met in the present in-
stance to help our good minister to
“ back out” of the difliculty. He took
the demijohn to the watering trough of
his stable, and poured some of the
liquor in, and brought his horse to it.
Pony expanded his nostrils and snorted
and olowed at it, as though he thought
it rather too hot, and seemed to say,
“ VVhat’s this '2” Next he drove his
cow to the trough, to see if she liked it
any better. The cow snuffed at it, and
shook her horns, and went her way,
with no fondness for such a “ villanous
potation.” Mr. —-~—- then carried his
demijohn to the pig-stye, and called his
pig out of his bedroom, to taste. Pigg
grunted and snuffed, dipped his nose in


and coughed, and'went back again to
finish his nap in his straw.
Mr. then returned to his study,
and penned, in substance, the following
note to the present-makers, with which
he returned the demijohn and its con-
tents:
“ Gentlemen—VVith due acknowledg-
ments for your present, received this
morning, permit me to say, that I have
offered some of it to my horse, my cow,
and my swine, and neither of them will
drink it. That which neither horses,
cattle, nor hogs will drink, I cannot
think to be either useful or safe for man
to drink. I beg you to excuse me there-
fore for returning the demijohn and its
contents; and believe me, gentlemen.
your most obedient, &c.”
(cl) THE REFORMED CROWS.-—
Colonel B. had one of the best farms
on the Illinois river. About one hun-
dred acres of it were covered with
waving corn. “Then it came up in the
spring, the crows seemed determined on
its entire destruction. I/Vhen one was
killed, it seemed as though a dozen came
to its funeral; and though the sharp
crack of the rifle often drove them away,
they always returned with its echo.
The Colonel at length became weary of
throwing grass, and resolved on trying
the virtue of stones. He sent to the
druggist’s for a gallon of alcohol, in
which he soaked a few quarts of corn,
and scattered it over his field. The
blacklegs came and partook with their
usual relish, and, as usual, they were
pretty well “ corned ;” and such a coo-
ing and cackling—-such strutting and
swaggering I IV hen the boys attempted
to catch them, they were not a little
amused at their staggering gait and their
zigzag way through the air. At length
they gained the edge of the woods, and
there being joined by a new recruit
which happened to be sober, they united
at the top of their voices in haw-haw-
hawking, and shouting either praises or
curses of alcohol, it was difiicult to tell
which, as they rattled away without
rhyme or reason. But the Colonel
saved his corn. As soon as they be-
came sober, they set their faces stead.
fastly against alcohol. Not another
kernel would they touch in his field.

21
5 ACTORS.

6. ACTORS.
(a) ‘VORKING LIKE A FOOL
TO PLEASE FOOLS. —The late
Rev. Samuel Lowell, of Bristol, being
once at Brighton, expressed a wish to
walk on the Steyne, and to have the
pubhe cnaracters pointed out to him.
Amongst the rest, a celebrated comedian
was noticed. “Ah,” said Mr. L., “is
that , my old school-fellow’.Z l’ll
:speak to him.” He accosted him, and
the following conversation took place.
Lowell. Sir, I believe I have the
pleasure of addressing Mr.
Player. Yes, sir, my name is ;
but I have not the pleasure of being
acquainted with you.
L. What! not know your old school-
fellow, Samuel Lowell?
P. What! are you Samuel Lowell’?
L. Yes, I am.
P. X/Vell, I am very glad to see you ;
now tell me your history in five minutes.
L. First, my name is Samuel Low-
ell ; I am a dissenting minister at Bris-
tol, where I have lived upwards of
twenty years; I have a large family.
P. So, you are a dissenting minister ;
well, you are a happy man, for you go
to your work with pleasure, and perform
it with pleasure: you are a happy man.
I go to my work like a jbol, to please
fools : I am not a happy man.
(b) CARLINI AND HIS PHYSI-
CIAN.—A French physician was once
consulted by a person who was subject
to the most gloomy fits of melancholy.
He advised his patient to mix in scenes
of gayety, and particularly to frequent
the Italian theatre ; and added, “ If Car-
lini does not dispel your gloomy com-
plaint, your case must be desperate
indeed.” The reply of the patient is
worthy the attention of those who fre-
quent such places in search of happi-
ness, as it shows the emptiness and in-
sufficiency of these amusements. “Alas,
sir, I am Carlini ; and while I divert all
Paris with mirth, and make them almost
die with laughter, I myself am dying
with melancholy and chagrin.—A simi-
.ar anecdote is related of a well-known
English bufibon, who consulted an Eng-



lish physician, celebrated for eccentric
advice.
(0) DEA TH OF PETERSON .—~
The death of Joseph Peterson, an actor
long attached to the Norwich company,
(Eng.,) was somewhat remarkable. In
October, 1758, he was performing the
Duke, in “ Measure for Measure.” Mr.
Moody was the Claudio, and in the third
act, where, as the friar, he was prepar-
ing Claudio for execution next morning,
at these words :--- '
“ Reason thus with life :
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
That none but fools would keep: a breath
Thou art.”
Here he dropped into Mr. Moody’s arms,
and never spake more.
( cl) THE ACTOR STABBIN G
HIMSELF.—A number of young men
were once engaged in acting the tragedy
of “Bertram, or the Castle of St. Aldo
brand,” at Nashville. Mr. .I. J. Mc-
Laughlin, formerly of Hopkinsville, Ky.,
was engaged to act the part of Bertram,
whose part it was during the progress
of the play to feign to stab himself. For
this purpose he had provided himself
with a Spanish knife. “ As the tragedy
wore to its denouement his excitement
increased, and the gloomy spirit of the
play was upon him with a power that
made a strong impression of reality upon
the hearers, and made them shudder as
he pronounced the following, accompa-
nied by the plunge of the dagger that
brought him to his death :-
‘ Bertram hath but one fatal foe on earth,
And he is here.’ [Stabs himself]
It was at this moment that he plunged
the weapon to his heart. It was doubt-
less the result of the excited feelings
of the actor, who had too absorbingly
entered into the dreadful spirit of his
hero. We charitably suppose that he
had no premeditated design of ending
his life with the play ; but his complete
identificatiorf of feeling with the part he
acted, led him to suicide as a natural
consequence.
“ The hallucination, if such we may
call it, did not end with the plunge of

22
AFFECTION,
‘'0
the dagger. His feelings bore him
along yet further. There was still, after
some exclamations of surprise from the
tragic monks, a dying sentence for him
to repeat. He went through it with a
startling effect :—
[Witlt a burst of exul/.ation,!]
‘ I died no elon’s death-—
A warrior’s weapon freed a warrior’s soul.’

CONJUGAL. 7
While he was pronouacing these, the
last words of the tragedy, his eye and
manner were fearfully wild ; the blood
was falling from his bosom upon the
young gentleman who had personated
the then lifeless lady Imogene ! As soon
as the last words were pronounced. he
fell—to rise no more.”
AFFECTION.
7. Affection, Conjugal.
(a) MAGNANIMOUS HUSBAND.
--Philip, surnamed the Good, the foun-
der of that greatness to which the
:Iouse of Burgundy latterly attained,_
was, at an early age, married to the
Princess Michelea, sister to Charles the
Dauphin. The father of Philip was
afterwards slain through the villany and
perfidiousness of Charles; and on the
news being brought to Philip, full of
grief and anger, be rushed into the
chamber of his wife: “Alas!” said
he, “my Michelea, thy brother has
murdered my father.” The Princess,
who loved her husband most tenderly,
broke out into the most affecting cries
and lamentations ; and fearful lest this
accident should lose her the affections
of her spouse, refused all comfort.
Philip, the good Philip, however, as-
sured her that she should not be the less
dear to him on that account; that the
deed was her brother’s and none of hers.
“ Take courage, my life,” said he,
“and seek comfort in ahusband that will
be faithful and constant to thee forever.”
Michelea was revived by these tender
assurances ; nor during the three years
longer which she lived, had she occa-
sion to suspect the smallest diminution
of Philip’s affection and respect.
(1)) A WIFE ON THE BATTLE
FIELD.--The following heroic conduct
of a Hindoo woman was attested by one
of the Baptist missionaries in India :-
Our friend Mrs. VV., who invited our
missionaries to preach at her house,
made us a visit yesterday with some
others, for the first time. I was much
gratified by the zealous spirit which she

evinced, as well as by her anxiety to
join the church. She had hitherto
waited to see if the Lord would bless
her endeavors to draw her husband into
the right way. See what a blessing
this native woman aims to be to her
European husband. She was a Hindoo,
before he took her as a slave, of the
vilest description. This man was
sergeant of artillery in the late war, un-
der Lord Lake, and had an active part
in most of the bloody conflicts of the
time. This woman’s attachment to her
partner was so strong, that she accom-
panied him in the heat of every battle,
and often lent him a hand when exhaust-
ed, and supplied his place at the guns.
In one of these scenes Mr. WV. received
a musket-ball above the temples, which
penetrated nearly through his skull,
carrying apart of the brass hoop of his
hat along with it, and instantly dropped
down, to all appearance dead. She
however neither lost her fortitude nor
her affection: even in this tiying mo-
ment, when, in addition to the situation
of her partner, the shots were falling
like hailstones about her own head, she
took him upon her back, with the intent
of performing the last friend‘. y office of
burying him, and carried nim out of
the scene of action!
(c) THE MOTTO ON THE BRI-
DAL RING.—-A young gentleman of
fine intellect, of a noble heart, and one
well known to many of our readers,
(says the Hartford Courant,) was sud-
denly snatched by the hand of death
from all the endearments of life. Sur-
rounded by every thing that could make
existence pleasant and happy——-a wife
that idolized him—children that loved
23
‘I’
AFFECTION.
nim as they only can love, and friends
devoted to him ; the summons came, and
he lay upon the bed of death. But
a few short years ago, she to whom he
was wedded, placed a bridal ring upon
his finger, upon the inside of Wh1Cl'1 he
had a few words privately engraven.
The husband would never permit the
giver to read them, telling her that the
day would come when her wish should
be gratified, and she should know the
secret. Seven years glided away, and
a day or two since, when conscious that
he must soon leave his wife forever, he
called her to his bedside, and with his
dying accents told her that the hour had
at last come when she should see the
words upon the ring she had given him.
The young mother took it from his cold
finger, and though heart-stricken with
grief, eagerly read the words: “I HAVE
LOVED THEE ON EARTH——I WILL MEET
THEE IN HEAVEN.”
(d) THE COUNTESS’ JOURNEY.
—-I cannot refrain, says Sir Wm. Jones,
from giving one beautiful illustration of
devoted duty and affection in the in-
stance of the Countess Confalonieri.
The moment she heard that the count
was condemned to death, she flew to
Vienna, but the courier had already set
out with the fatal mandate. It was
midnight, but her agonies of mind plead-
ed for instant admission to the empress.
The same passionate despair which won
the attendants, wrought its effect on their
royal mistress. She hastened that mo-
ment to the emperor, and having suc-
ceeded, returned to the unhappy lady
with a commutation of the sentence:
her husband’s life was spared. But the
death-warrant was on its way ;—could
she overtake the courier’.2 Throwing
herself into a conveyance, and paying
{our times the amount for relays of
horses, she never, it is stated, stopped
or tasted food till she reached the city
of Milan. The count was preparing to
be led to the scaffold: but she was in
time—-—she had saved him. During her
painful journey, she had rested her
throbbing brow upon a small pillow,
which she bathed with her tears; in
the conflict of mingled terror and hope,
lest all might be over. This interesting
memorial of conjugal tenderness and
I
_—-—-\_— -_-~
truth in so fearful a moment, was sen
by his judges to the count, to show their
sense of his wife’s admirable conduct.
(6) THE LOST HUSBAND
FOUND.——During a very heavy fall
of snow in the winter of 1784, two
gentlemen rode on horseback from Ber-
wick to Kelso, regardless of the reman-
strances ofmany, who insisted that the
roads were impassable: and, in truth,
it was an act of hardihood and folly, as
the congealed flakes were drifted by the
blast, and beat violently against their
eyes and teeth. At every step the jaded
animals were more than knee-deep, and
may be rather said to have plunged
onward than otherwise. ‘When they
arrived, with much difficulty, at a lone-
ly ale-house, near Tweezle, on the river
Till, they found an inhabitant of Kelso.
who had been detained in this thatched
hovel two days by the inclement season:
he sat in a contracted state, inclining
over the embers on the hearth, like the
personification of the ague. When he
recognised them, his features assumed
their wonted firmness, and, gathering
intrepidity from example, he resolved
to accompany them, although the roads
and ditches were so filled up that the
vast face of the country seemed an un-
broken white expanse. On their arrival
in the middle of a heath, which they did
not accomplish until the approaches of
night, they faintly discovered a female
form wading and floundering irregular-
ly towards them, in the trackless snow .
her attire was so loose, and involved so
much of the simplicity of a villager,
that she appeared as if habited merely
to pass from one neighbor’s house to
another. Viewing her through the
misty atmosphere, they hesitated to
pronounce her as human; the contour
of her body was so softened by the inter-
mediate vapors, that she seemed aerial.
On their coming nearer, they ascertain-
ed her, with extreme astonishment, to
be the wife of their companion: she
had been wandering in a spirit of des-
peration, thirteen miles from her home
and her infants, in that bleak day, to
find the remains of her beloved Willy ;
believing him, from his unusual and
alarming absence, to have perished in
the hard weather. Upon the instant?’
24
AF F E(/TION, FILIAL—EXEMP LIFIED. S
--
neous assurance that she beheld her
husband once more, she issued a loud
and piercing shriek, and sank motion-
less in the snow. When they had chafed
her temples, and imperfectly recovered
her, she clasped her aands, in all the
fervor of piety, and raising her eyes to
heaven, blessed her God for her den-
verance from trouble. At the conclusion
of her prayer, they placed the shivering
amiable woman on the ablest horse, and
conveyed her to Coldstream, overpower-
ed by the sensations of an excessive joy,
succeeding the conflicts of severe duty
and agonizing woe! VVhat an inspiring
instance of conjugal tenderness I-Could
Cornelia or Portia have done more ‘.1
f) THE INDIAN AND HIS
FAMISHING WIFE.—-In the year
1762, (says the Rev. Mr. Heckwelder,)
I was witness to a remarkable instance
of the disposition of the Indians to in-
dulge their wives. There was a famine
in the land, and a sick Indian woman
expressed a great desire for a mess of
Indian corn. Her husband having heard
that a trader at lower Sandusky had a
little, set off on horseback for that place,
one hundred miles distant, and returned
with as much corn as filled the crown
of his hat, for which he gave his horse
in exchange, and came home on foot,
bringing his saddle back with him.
) THE SHAYVNEE’S LOVE
TO HER HUSBAND.-—A married
woman of the Shawnee Indians, made
this beautiful reply to a man whom she
met in the woods, and who implored
her to love and look on him. “ Oulman,
my husband,” said she, “ who is for-
ever before my eyes, hinders me from
seeing you or any other person.”
(h) A GOOD WIFE.—T'ne Rev.
William Jay, of Bath (Eng.), on the
fiftieth anniversary of his ordination,
gave his wife the following noble com-
pliment. Being presented by the ladies
of his congregation with a purse con-
taining .;6650, after a few remarks he
turned to Mrs. Jay, and said : “I take
this purse, and present it to you, madam
——to you, madam, who have always
kept my purse, and therefore it is that
it has been so well kept. Consid-
er it entirely sacred--for your plea-
cum, your use, your service, your

comfort. I feel this to be unexpected
by you, but it is perfectly deserved.
Mr. Chairman, and Christian friends, I
am sure there is not one here but would
acquiesce in this, if he knew the value
of this female, as a wife, for more than
fifty years. I must mention the obli-
gation the public are under to her (if I
. have been enabled to serve my genera
tion), and how much she has raised her
sex in my estimation; how much my
church and congregation owe to her
watchings over their pastor’s health,
whom she has cheered under all his
trials, and reminded of his duties, while
she animated him in their performance ;
how often has she wiped the evening
dews from his forehead, and freed him
from interruptions and embarrassments,
that he might be free for his work.
How much, also, do my family owe to
her; and what reason have they to call
her blessed! She is, too, the mother of
another mother in America, who has
reared thirteen children, all of whom
are walking with her in the way ever-
lasting.”
8. Affection, Filial—Exemplified.
((1) ALEXANDER AND HIS MO-
THER.—Olympias, the mother of
Alwxander, was of so very unhappy
and morose a disposition, that he could
not employ her in any of the affairs of
government. She. however, narrowly
inspected the conduct of others, and
made many complaints to her son,
which he always bore with patience.
Antipater, Alexander’s deputy in Eu-
rope, once wrote a long letter to him,
complaining of her conduct; to whom
Alexander returned this answer:
“ Knowest thou not that one tear of my
mother’s will blot out a thousand such
letters '2”
(I2) QUINTUS AND HIS SON.—-
Among the multitude of persons who
were proscribed under the second tri-
umvirate of Rome, were the celebrated
orator Cicero and his brother Quintus.
The latter took means to conceal him-
self so effectually at home, that the
soldiers could not find him. Enraged
at their disappointment, they put his
son to the torture, in order to make lnm
25
S A FFEOTION.

-0 _- -Q -
discover the place of his father’s con-
cealment ; but filial affection was proof
against the most exquisite torments.
An involuntary sigh, and sometimes a
deep groan, were all that could be
extorted from the youth. His agonies
were increased; but, with amazing
fortitude, he still persisted in his resolu-
tion of not betraying his father. Quin-
tus was not far off; and it may be
imagined, better than can be expressed,
how his heart must have been affected
with the sighs and groans of a son ex-
piring in torture to save his life. He
could bear it no longer; but, quitting
the place of his concealment, he pre-
sented himself to the assassins, begging
of them to put him to death, and dismiss
the innocent youth. But the inhuman
monsters, without being the least affect-
ed with the tears either of the father or
the son, answered that they must both
die; the father because he was pre-
scribed, and the son because he had
concealed the father. Then a new
contest of tenderness arose who should
die first; but this the assassins soon
decided, by beheading them both at the
same time.
(0) AFFECTION’S CHOICE
TREASURES.——Ancient history re-
cords, that a certain city was besieged,
and at length obliged to surrender. In
the city there were two brothers, who
had, in some way, obliged the conquer-
ing general; and in consequence of
this, received permission to leave the
city before it was set on fire, taking
with them as much of their property as
each could carry about his person.
Accordingly the two generous youths
appeared at the gates of the city, one
of them carrying their father, and the
other their mother.
(d) PRISONER RESCUED BY
HIS DAUGHTER.—-M. Delleglaie
being ordered from a dungeon at Lyons,
to the Conciergerie, departed thither.
His daughter, who had not quitted him,
asked to be admitted into the same
vehicle, but was refused. The heart,
however, knows no obstacles; though
she was of a very delicate constitution,
she performed the journey on foot ; and
followed for more than a hundred
leagues the carriage in which her father

was drawn, and only left it to go into
some town and prepare his food; and
in the evening, to procure some cover.
ing to facilitate his repose in the different
dungeons which received him. She
ceased not for a moment to accompany
him, and watch over his wants, till the
Conciergerie separafed them. Accus-
tomed to encounter jailers, she did not
despair of disarming oppressors. Dur-
ing three months, she every morning
implored the most influential members
of the committee of public safety, and
finished, by overcoming their refusals.
She reconducted her father to Lyons,
happy in having rescued him. She fell
ill on the road, overcome by the excess
of fatigue she had undergone, and,
while she had preserved her beloved
parent’s life, she lost her own.
(e) HENRY HOCK AND HIS FA.
THER.-—A few years ago, five Dutch
gentlemen set out from Rotterdam, to
travel on skates to Amsterdam. They
had passed over about twelve miles of
the waste of inland waters which extends
between the two cities, and were, with
the exception of one of the party, who
kept apart, skating with great velocity,
in close files, and hands linked, in the
Dutch manner, and were striking out
far from the shore, when at once, the
whole file was precipitated through the
ice, and two out of the four were hardly
seen to rise again. The other two were
father and son, both remarkably fine
men, and the father an expert swimmer,
which enabled him to support himself,
and his son too, for a considerable time,
during which he was so collected as to
give directions to the only one of the
party who had not fallen in, how he
should conduct himself to afford assist-
ance; but at length he gave utterance
to the thought, that his son’s continuing
to hold him would be the death of both.
The son immediately kissed the father
and, with the familiar and endearing
expression he was accustomed to, bade
him “good nignt,” loosed his hold, and
deliberately resigned himself to death.
The father lived; and the name, at
least, of Henry Hock, the son, must
live also.
(f) THE BEST PRESENT.-~
The three sons of an eastern lady were
26
AFFECTION, FILIAL-REWARDED. 9
-
in vited to furnish her with an expression
of their love, before she went a lon
journey. One brought a marble tablet,
with the inscription of her name; ano-
ther presented her with a rich garland
of fragrant flowers; the third entered
her presence and thus accosted her:
“ Mo,‘.her, I have neither marble tablet
nor fragrant nosegay, but I have a
heart: here your name is engraved,
here your memory is precious, and this
heart full of affection will follow you
wherever you travel, and remain with
ou wherever you repose.”
(g) ARCHBISHOP TILLOTSON’S
AFFECT ION .—There are some chil-
dren who are almost ashamed to own
their parents, because they are poor, or
in a low situation of life. We will,
therefore, give an example of the con-
trary, as displayed by the Dean of
Canterbury, afterwards Archbishop Til-
lotson. His father, who was a plain
Yorkshireman, perhaps something like
those we now call “Friends,” approach-
ed the nouse where his son resided, and
inquired whether “John Tillotson was
at home.” The servant, indignant at
what he thought his insolence, drove
him from the door: but the dean, who
was within, hearing the voice of his
father, instead of embracing the oppor-
tunity afforded him, of going out and
bringing in his father in a more private
manner, came running out, exclaiming,
in the presence of his astonished ser-
vants, “It is my beloved father;” and
falling down on his knees, asked for his
blessing.
(it) THE HAPPY MEETING.-
Some years ago, a pious widow in
America, who was reduced to great
poverty, had just placed the last smoked
herring on her table, to supply her
hunger and that of her children, when a
rap was heard at the door, and a stran-
ger solicited a lodging and a morsel of
food, saying, that he had not tasted
bread for twenty-four hours. The
widow did not hesitate, but offered a
share to the stranger, saying, “‘We
shall not be forsaken. or sufler deeper
for an act of charity.”
The traveller drew near to the table ;
but when he saw the scanty fare, filled
with astonishment, he said, “And is

—.—.-_—-1- a__-
this all your store’.2 And do you offer
a share to one you do not know '2 Then
I never saw charity before I But, ma-
dam, do you not wrong your children,
by giving a part of your last morsel in
a stranger ?” “Ah,” said the widow,
weeping, “I have a boy, a darling son,
somewhere on the face of the wide
world, unless Heaven has taken him
away; and I only act towards you as
I would that others should act towards
him. God, who sent manna from hea-
ven, can provide for us as he did for
Israel; and how should I this nignt
offend him, if my son should be a
wanderer, destitute as you, and he
should have provided for him a home,
even as poor as this, were I to turn you
unrelieved away!”
The widow stopped, and the stranger
springing from his seat, clasped her in
his arms; “God, indeed, has provided
just such a home for your wandering
son, and has given him wealth to re-
ward the goodness of his benefactress.
My mother! 0 my mother!”
It was indeed her long lost son,
returned from India. He had chosen
this way to surprise his family, and
certainly not very wisely; but never
was surprise more complete, or more
joyful. He was able to make the familV
comfortable, which he immediately did:
the mother living for some years longer.
in the enjoyment of plenty.
9. Affection, I*‘ilial—-Rewarded.
(tt) THE PRISONER AND HER
DAUGHTER.-—Valerius Maximus re-
lates, that a woman of distinction having
been condemned to be strangled, was
delivered to the triumvir, who caused
her to be carried to prison in order to
be put to death. The gaoler who was
ordered to execute her was struck with
compunction, and could not resolve to
kill her. He chose, however, to let her
die with hunger; but meanwhile suffer-
ing her daughter to visit her in prison,
taking care that she brought her nothing
to eat. Many days passed over in this
manner, when the gaoler at length,
surprised that the prisoner lived so long
without food, took means of secretly ob-
serving their interviews. He then die
'27
9 AFFECTION.
.-.
covered that the affectionate daughter
had all the while been nourishing her
mother With her own milk. Amazed at
so tender, and at the same time so inge-
nious an artifice, he related it to the
triumvir, and the triumvir to the praetor,
who thought the fact merited stating in
the assembly of the people. This pro-
duced the happiest effects ; the criminal
was pardoned, and a decree passed that
the mother and daughter should be main-
tained for the remainder of their lives,
at the expense of the public; and that a
temple, sacred to filial piety, should be
erected near the prison.
(b) TITUS MANLIUS AND HIS
FATHER.—A certain Roman, in the
days of paganism, called Titus Manlius,
was treated extremely ill by his father,
fbr no other reason than a defect in his
speech. A tribune of the people brought
an accusation against his father before
the people, who hated him for his impe-
rious conduct, and were determined to
punish him with severity, The young
man hearing this, went one morning
very early from his father’s country
farm, where he was forced to live like
a slave, and finding out the house of the
tribune who had impeached his father,
entreated that he would immediately
drop the prosecution. The tribune de-
clared before the people that he with-
drew his charge against old Manlius,
because his son Titus had obliged him
to promise upon oath that he would
carry it no farther. The people,
charmed with the filial piety of Titus,
shown to so unnatural a father, not only
forgave the old man, but the next year‘
advanced his generous son to the su-
reme honors of the state.
(c) THE JUDGE OFFERING TO
DIE VVITH THE CRIMINAL.-—
While Octavius was at Samos, after the
battle of Actium, which made him mas-
ter of the universe, he held a council to
examine the prisoners who had been
engaged in Antony’s party. Among
the rest, there was brought before him
an old man, Metollus, oppressed with
years and infirmities, disfigured with a
long heard, a neglected head of hair,
and tattered clothes. The son of this
ii/ietellus was one of the judges; but it
was with great difliculty he knew his

-~'
father in the deplorable condition in
which he saw him. At last, however,
having recollected his features, instead
of being ashamed to own him, he ran to
embrace him. Then turning towards
the tribunal, he said: “Caesar, my father
has been your enemy, and I your oth-
cer; he deserves to be punished, and I
to be rewarded. One favor I desire of
you; it is, either to save him on my
account, or order me to oe put to death
with him.” All the judges were touch-
ed with compassion at this affecting
scene; Octavius himself relented, and
granted to old Metellus his life and
liberty.
(d) EFFORT TO RANSOM A
FATHER. -— Montesquieu, being at
Marseilles, hired a boat, with an inten-
tion of sailing for pleasure. He entered
into conversation with the two young
boatmen, and learned, to his surprise,
that they were silversmiths by trade,
and had agreed to employ themselves
thus as watermen, only that they might
increase their earnings. On expressing
his surprise, and his fears, that this must
arise only from an avaricious disposition,
“Oh, sir,” said one of them, “if you
knew our reasons, you would not think
so. Our father, anxious to assist his
family, scraped together all he was
worth, and purchased a vessel, for the
purpose of trading to the coast of Bar-
bary ; but was unfortunately taken by
apirate, carried to Tripoli, and sold for
a slave. He writes that he has happily
fallen into the hands of a master who
uses him well, but that the sum de-
manded for his ransom is so exorbitant,
that it will be impossible for him ever
to raise it, and says we must therefore
relinquish all hope of ever seeing him,
and be contented. With the hope of re-
storing to his family a beloved father,
we are striving, by every means in our
power, to collect the sum necessary for
his ransom; and for such a purpose, we
are not ashamed to employ ourselves in
this occupation of watermen.”
Montesquieu was struck with this ac
count, and on his departure made them
a handsome present. Some months
afterwards, the two brothers, being at
work in their shop, were greatly sur-
prised at seeing their father enter: he
28
AFFECTION, F ILIAL—-REWARDED. 9

.-._-0

1hrew himself into their arms, exclaim-
ing, that he was fearful they had taken
some unjust method to raise the money
that procured his ransom. They pro-
fessed their ignorance of the whole
affair, and could only attribute their
father’s release to that stranger, to
whose generosity they had been before
so much indebted.
(e) A COURAGEOUS SON.-—At the
siege of Knaresborough, byi the Parlia-
ment’s army, under the command of
Colonel Lilburn, a young man who re-
sided in the town, and whose father was
one of the garrison, had, several times,
at the hazard of his life, conveyed
provisions to him, which he effected in
the night by getting into the meat, which
was dry, climbing up the glacis, and
putting the provisions into a hole, where
his father was ready to receive them.
Being at last discovered by the guard
belonging to the besiegers, they fired
but missed him. He was, however, taken
prisoner, and, having made a full con-
fession of his conduct, was sentenced to
be hanged the next day, in the sight of
the besieged, to deter others from giving
them the least assistance. The sentence
was about to be carried into execu-
tion, when a lady, whose name was
Wincup, with several others, petitioned
the commander to pardon the unhappy
youth. They succeeded so far as to
have him respited ; and when the troops
left the place, he was set at liberty.
(f) FREDERIO AND HIS PAGE.
—Frederic, King of Prussia, day one
rung his bell, and nobody answering,
he opened his door, and found his page
fast asleep in an elbow-chair. He ad-
vanced towards him, and was going to.
awaken him, when he perceived part
of a letter hanging out of his pocket.
His curiosity prompting him to know
what it was, he took it out and read it.
It was a letter from this young man’s mo-
ther, in which she thanked him for having
sent her a part of his wages to relieve her
misery; and finished with telling him,
that God would reward him for his duti-
ful affection. The king, after reading
it, went back softly into his chamber,
took a bag full of ducats, and slipped it
with the letter into the page’s pocket.
Returning to the chamber, he rang the

bell so loudly, that it awakened the page,
who instantly made his appearance.
“You have had a sound sleep,” said
the ki-ng. The page was at a loss how
to excuse himself; and putting his hand
into his pocket by chance, to his utter
astonishment, be there found a purse
of ducats. He took it out, turned pale,
and looking at the king, shed a torrent
of tears without being able to utter a
single word. “What is that?” said
the king. “ VVhat is the matter Cl”
“ Ah! sire,” said the young 1. an,
throwing himself on his knees, “ some-
body seeks my ruin I I know nothing of
this money which I have just found in
my pocket!” “ My young friend,” re-
plied Frederic, “ God often does great
things for us, even in our sleep. Send
that to your mother; salute her on my
part, and assure her thatl will take
care of both her and you.”
(g) THE SWEDISH PRISONER’S
SON —A gentleman of Sweden was
condemned to suffer death, as a punish-
ment for certain offences committed by
him in the discharge of an important
public office, which he had filled for a
number of years with an integrity that
had never before undergone either suspi-
cion or impeachment. His son, a youth
about eighteen years of age, was no
sooner apprised of the affecting situation
to which his father was reduced, than
he flew to the judge who had pronounced
the fatal decree, and, throwing himself
at his feet, prayed that he might be al.
lowed to suffer in the room of a father
whom he loved, and whose loss he
thought it was impossible for him to
survive. The magistrate was amazed
at this extraordinary procedure in the
son, and would hardly be persuaded
that he was sincere in it. Being at
length satisfied. however, that the young
man actually wished to save his father’s
life at the expense of his own, he wrote
an account of the whole affair to the
king ; and his majesty immediately
sent orders to grant a free pardon to
the father, and to confer a title of honor
on his son. The last mark of royal
favor, however, the youth begged leave
with all humility to decline; and the
motive for the refusal of it was not less
noble than the conduct by which he had
29
9
AF FECTION .

-u~
deserved it was generous and disinter-
ested. “ Of what avail,” exclaimed
he, “ could the most exalted title he to
me, humbled as my family already is
in the dust’? Alas! would it not serve
but as a monument to perpetuate in the
minds of my countrymen the remem-
brance of an unhappy father’s shame !”
His majesty, the king of Sweden, ac-
tually shed tears when this magnanimous
speech was reported to him ; and, send-
ing for the heroic youth to court, he
appointed him to a confidential oflice.
(h) FREDERIC AND HIS POME-
RANIAN SERVANT.-—Frederic the
Great, of Prussia, during his last illness,
endured many restless nights, which he
endeavored to soothe by conversing with
the servant who sat up with him. On
one of these occasions, he inquired of a
young Pomeranian from whence he
came. “From a little village in Pome-
rania.” “Are your parents living?”
“An aged mother.” “How does she
maintain herself '2” “ By spinning.”
“ How much does she gain daily by it '2”
“Sixpence.” “But she cannot live
well on that 'Z’’ “In Pomerania it is
cheap living.” “Did you never send
her any thing '2” “ O yes, I have sent
her, at different times, a few dollars.”
“That was bravely done; you are a
good boy. You have a deal of trouble
with me. Have patience: I shall en-
deavor to lay something by for you, if
you behave well.” The monarch kept
his word; for, a few nights after, the
Pomeranian, being again in attendance,
received several pieces of gold ; and
heard, to his great joy and surprise, that
one hundred rix dollars had been settled
on his mother during her life.
THE HAUGHTY CREDITOR
AND HIS POOR DEBTOR’S SON.
-—A shopkeeper, who resided two or
three days’ journey from Paris, pre-
served his good conduct and integrity
for many years. At last, by some per-
sons taking undue credit, and keeping
him too long out of his money, he was
obliged to take a journey to Paris, to
desire two things of his creditors: the
one was a lengthening out their forbear-
ance; and the other was, to be furnish-
ed with a fresh assortment of goods, that

he might keep open his shop with credit. j
._‘-
They were so pleased with the honesty
and frankness of the man, that they all
agreed to grant his request, except one ;
this was his chief creditor, a proud ano
haughty merchant, who had never felt
any adversity, and knew not how to
sympathize with the afliicted. “ So,”
said he, “I find, by your asking for a
prolongation of credit, and a further in-
dulgence of gods, that you are going
down hill ;‘and therefore I am resolved
to have my money.” Accordingly, he
sent immediately for an ofiicer, who ar-
rested the poor man and carried him to
jail. In this distressing situation, he
wrote home to his wife, who communi-
cated the news to her six children : they
were all overwhelmed in sorrow. What
could be done ? To sit still in despair,
was the ready way to ruin. After a
deliberate conversation with her eldest
son, a young man of fine sense and ex-
cellent virtue, about nineteen years of
age, he resolved to fly to Paris, with a
view to soften this cruel creditor. After
a short interview with his father, he
went to the house of the merchant, sent
in his name, and desired an audience.
The cruel and haughty man, thinking
he had come to pay him, admitted him
into his presence; but he soon found
that his first request was, that he should
release his father from jail, to go home
and comfort his mother, and keep up the
credit of the shop. The merchant, be-
ing disappointed in his expectation, fiew
into a violent passion, and declared he
would have the money or the bones of
his father. The young man, finding
him inexorable, fell down on his knees,
and with uplifted hands and tears roll-
ing down his cheeks, he addressed him-
self to the merchant in this manner :—-
“Sir,” said he, “ if I go home without
my father, I shall see my mother die
with a broken heart, the credit of the
shop will be entirely ruined, and we,
the poor children, must be turned as
vagabonds and beggars into the open
street. I have this one, this last request
to make—-—let me be sent to jail in the
room of my father, and keep me there
until all demands are satisfied.” The
merchant walked backwards and for-
wards in the room with great emotion.
The young man continued his cries and
30
AFFECTION, FILIAL—REWARDED. 9

entreaties on his knees. At last the
merchant flew to him with great tender-
ness and took hold of his hand. “ Rise,
young man,” said he: “I have but one
daughter in the world, for whose happi-
ness I am concerned ; I ’ll give thee my
daughter --she must be happy with a
fellow of thy virtue; I’l1 settle upon
you all my fortune; I’ll release your
father out of prison, and make you all
happy together.” And he was as good
as his word.
(j‘) LOVE FOR AN UNNATU-
RAL MOTHER.—The Rev. James
Churchill relates, in his “Analecta,”
that a widowed mother lived to see her
youngest son, who was a babe at her
husband’s death, grow up to manhood
in the esteem of all but herself. His
temper was mild, and his manners affa-
ble; yet it is said that when he had at-
tained the age of twenty, he had never
known what the affection of a mother
was towards him; nay, nor had ever
received a single kind word from her.
Blessed, however, by Providence, he
flourished greatly in conducting his late
father’s business, employing a number
of men. He took his mother under his
own roof, settled upon her a liberal an-
nuity, and studied to make her happy.
It was all in vain. She murmured, re-
preached him, and, on one occasion,
rushed into the manufactory and abused
him violently before all the men.
The people were shocked at her con-
duct ; and the son withdrew, over-
whelmed with grief. But worse events
were yet in reserve for him. She im-
mediately commenced legal proceedings
against him fbr an assault! The men
offered readily to appear on their mas-
ter’s behalf. Their master thanked
them, but chose rather to be accounted
guilty, and suffer judgment to go by
default, than to appear against his own
mother: and though he had a fine to
pay, this made no alteration in his con-
duct towards her. About three months
after this, she was found dead in her
bed, with marks of violence about her
body. The coroner’s verdict was, wil-
ful murder, against her son. The poor
youth was confined some months in pri-
son, among the vilest of characters, to
await his trial. His mind Was at times

distressed to a very great degree; re-
flecting that his character was ruined,
his business nearly lost, and his prospect
that of ending his days at a gallows
but what harrowed his heart most was,
that all this was brought about by his
own mother! Still his confidence in
that Providence which watches over all,
did not entirely fail him. He could ex-
ercise hope; and that hope was sus-
tained not in vain. For as the time for
his trial drew near, two of the men who
had worked in his manufactory were
taken up, on the charge of having com-
mitted some petty depredations ; and,
feeling the torments of a conscience bur-
dened with guilt, these wretched crea-
tures voluntarily confessed to a magis-
trate, that they could no longer endure
the thought that so innocent and so wor-
thy a master should lie under the vile
imputation ; that they were the murder-
ers of Mrs. ; and that the idea of
getting her money and jewels had in-
duced them to strangle her one night
while in her sleep! The prison doors
were soon thrown open to the suffering
young man ; joy was diffused through
the town; his character shone out with
a greater lustre ; God prospered his re-
viving business ; his family increased ;
and his children and grandchildren
treated him with the respect and tender-
ness which he always manifested to his
mother.
(It) GUSTAVUS AND THE PEA-
SAN T GIRL.—Gustavus III., King of
Sweden, passing one morning on horse-
back through a village in the neighbor-
hood of his capital, observed a young
peasant girl, of interesting appearance,
drawing water at a fountain by the way-
side. He went up to her and asked her
for a draught. VVithout delay she lifted
up her pitcher, and with artless simpli-
city put it to the lips of the monarch.
Having satisfied his thirst, and courte-
ously thanked his benefaetress, he said,
“ My girl, if you would accompany
me to Stockholm, I would endeavor to
fix you in a more agreeable situa-
tion.”
“Ah, sir,” replied the girl, “I cannot
accept your proposal. I am not anxious
to rise above the state of life in which
the providence of God has placed me '

31
9
AFFECTION.
but, even if I were, I could not for an
instant hesitate.”
“And why ?”
somewhat surprised.
“Because,” answered the girl, color-
ing, “ my mother is poor and sickly, and
has no one but me to assist or comfort
her under her many afflictions: and no
earthly bribe could induce me to leave
her, or to neglect the duties which affec-
tion requires from me.”
“ Where is your mother?” asked the
monarch.
“ In that little cabin,” replied the
girl, pointing to a wretched hovel beside
her.
The king, whose feelings were inte-
rested in favor of his companion, went
in, and beheld stretched on a bedstead,
whose only covering was a little straw,
an aged female, weighed down with
years, and sinking under infirmities.
Moved at the sight, the monarch ad-
dressed her: “ I am sorry, my poor
woman, to find you in so destitute and
afiiicted a condition.”
“ Alas, sir,” answered the venerable
sufferer, “ I should be indeed to be
pitied, had I not that kind and attentive
girl, who labors to support me, and
omits nothing she thinks can afford me
relief. May a gracious God remember
it to her for good,” she added, wiping
away a tear.
Never, perhaps, was Gustavus more
sensible than at that moment, of the
pleasure of occupying an exalted station.
The gratification arising from the con-
scionsness of having it in his power to
assist a suffering fellow-creature, almost
overpowered him ; and putting a purse
into the hand of the young villager, he
could only say, “ Continue to take care
of your mother ; I shall soon enable you
to do so more effectually. Goodbye,
my amiable girl, you may depend on
the promise of your king.”
On his return to Stockholm, Gustavus
settled a pension for life on the mother,
with the reversion to her daughter at
her death.
(Z) TI-IE CLERK’S DYING RE-
GRET.-—A young man, who was clerk
to Mr. Cuthbert, a merchant in the East
Indies, being taken very ill,became un-
usually thoughtful and melancholy.
rejoined the king,


M ’.-
Mr. Cuthbert inquired the cause of his
uneasiness. The young man replied,
that he was not afraid to die; but he
had a mother, and two sisters, in E1-
gland, to whom he had been accustcmed
to send £100 every year ; and his only
regret at dying, was, that they would
be left destitute. Mr- Cuthbert begged
him to make his mind perfectly easy
on that account, as he would take care
of his mother and sisters. He was as
good as his word, for he instantly went
to his attorney, and executed a deed,
granting an annuity of £100 a year,
in favor of the mother and her two
daughters, during their joint lives ; and
with the benefit of survivorship. He
then sent the bond to his clerk, who,
clasping it in his hands, exclaimed,
“ Now I can die in peace ; my mother
and sisters are saved ;” and almost in-
stantly expired.
(m) THE INSOLVENT NEGRO.
-——A negro of one of the kingdoms on
the African coast, who had become in-
solvent, surrendered himself to his cred-
itor, who, according to the established
custom of the country, sold him to the
Danes. This affected his son so much
that he came and reproaehed his father
for not selling his children to pay his
debts ; and after much entreaty, he pre-
vailed on the captain to accept him, and
liberate his father. The son was put in
chains. and on the point of sailing to
the West Indies; when the circum-
stance coming to the knowledge of the
governor, through the means of Mr.
lsert, he sent for the owner of the slaves,
paid the money that he had given for
the old man, and restored the son to his
father.
(n) THE INVALID AND HIS
DAUGHTERS.—In the year 1773,
Peter Burrell, Esq. of Beckenham, in
Kent, whose health was rapidly declin-
ing, was advised by his physicians to
go to Spa for the recovery of his health.
His daughters feared that those who had
only motives entirely mercenary, would
not pay him that attention which he
might expect from those who, from duty
and affection united, would feel the
greatest pleasure in ministering to his
case and comfort ; they, therefbre, re-
solved to accompany him. They proveo
32
AFFECTION, F RATERNAL.
9, 10

that it was not a spirit of dissipation and
gayety that led them to Spa, for they
were not to be seen in any of the gay
and fashionable circles ; they were nev-
er out of their father's company, and
never stirred from home except to at-
tend him, either to take the air or drink
the waters; in a word, they lived a
most recluse life in the midst of a town
then the restrt of the most illustrious
and fashionable personages of Europe.
This exemplary attention to their
father procured these three amiable sis-
ters the admiration of all the English
at‘ Spa, and was the cause of their ele-
vation to that rank in life, to which their
merits gave them so just a title. They
all were married to noblemen : one to the
Earl of Beverly; another to the Duke
of Hamilton, and afterwards to the Mar-
quess of Exeter; and a third to the
Duke of Northumberland. And it is
iustice to them to say, that they reflect-
ed honor on their rank, rather than de-
rived any from it.
(0) THE POOR SERVANT AND
HER AFFLICTED PARENTS.-—
A female servant, who was past the
Drime of life, in an inferior station, but
much respected for her piety and integ-
rity, had saved a little money from
her wages, which, as her health was
evidently on the decline, would proba-
bly soon be required for her own relief.
Hearing that her aged parents were,
by unavoidable calamity, reduced to
extreme indigence, and having reason
to fear they were strangers to the com-
forts of religion, she obtained leave to
visit them ; shared With them the little
she had, and used her utmost endeav-
ors to make them acquainted with the
consolations and supports of the gospel,
apparently not without success. Being
reminded by an acquaintance that, in
all probability, she would soon stand in
need of what she had saved, she replied,
“that she could not think it her duty to
see her aged parents pining in want,
while she had more than was needful
for her present use, and that she trusted
God would find her some friend, if he
saw good to disable her for service.”
Having continued to assist her parents
till their death, she was soon after de-
prived of health, so as to become inca-

-—_--.-._
pable of labor. God, in a wonderfm
manner, however, raised her up friends
where she least expected them. For
years she was comfortably supported,
and circumstances were at length so
ordered, that her maintenance to the
end of life was almost as much insured,
as any thing can be in this uncertain
world.
WA$IIlNGTON’S REGARD
FOR HIS MOTHER.——General George
Washington, when quite young, was
about to go to sea as a midshipman;
every thing was arranged, the vessel
lay opposite his father’s house, the little
boat had come on shore to take him off,
and his whole heart was bent on going.
After his trunk had been carried down
to the boat, he went to bid his mother
farewell, and saw the tears bursting
from her eyes. However, he said no-
thing to her; but he saw that his mother
would be distressed if he went, and
perhaps never be happy again. He
just turned round to the servant and
said, “Go and tell them to fetch my
trunk back. I will not go away to
break my mother’s heart.” His mother
was struck with his decision, and she
said to him, “ George, God has promised
to bless the children that honor their
parents, and I believe he will bless you.”
10. Affection, Fraternal.
(a) TIMOLEON AND HIS
VVOUNDED BROTHER.-Timoleon,
the Corinthian, was a noble pattern of
fraternal love. Being in battle with
the Argives, and seeing his brother fall
by the wounds he had received, he
instantly leaped over his dead body,
and with his shield protected it from
insult and plunder ; and though severe-
ly wounded in the generous enterprise,
he would not on any account retreat to
a place of safety, till he had seen the
corpse carried off the field by his friends.
(Z2) THE WATER-BEARER AND
HIS BROTHER.—-As one of the water-
bearers at the fountain of the Fauxbourg
St. Germain, in Paris. was at his usual
labors, in August, 1766, he was taken
away by a gentleman in a splendid
coach, who proved to be his own brother
and who, at the age of three years, had
3
33
lib ll
AFFECTION .

been carried to India, where he made a
considerable fortune. On his return to
France, he made inquiry respecting his
family; and hearing that he had only
one brother alive. and that he was in
the humble condition of a water-bearer,
he sought him out, embraced him with
great affection, and brought him to his
house, where he gave him bills for up-
wards of a thousand crowns per annum.
(0) THE BROTHERS AND THE
SNOVV-STORM.—In the year 1804,
some young men of the Morayshire and
Inverness-shire militia, being quartered
at Edinburgh, obtained a short furlough.
They were seven in number, two of
them being brothers, named Forsythe.
They had to walk, in the very depth of
winter, one hundred and thirty miles.
As they proceeded, they were ever-
taken by one of those sudden snow.-
storms which are usual in the moun-
tains. And now the night began to
close in around them, while the snow
and the wind still grew thicker and
stronger. At last, being bewildered by
the shade of the evening, which was
rendered yet more dismal by the inces-
sant snow-drift, they strayed, as might
be expected, from the right path, and
exhausted their strength. They could
just see one another ; but the storm was
so violent, they could not converse.
Thus struggling onward, and scarcely
knowing where they went, one of them
sank in a hollow in the rock, and was
buried. The others passed on, uncon-
scious of his loss. Soon after, the
younger Forsythe also dropped down,
being quite spent.
pathway of the rest, but being much
weakened themselves, they, without
helping him, stepped on ; all did so but
one. This one was the elder Forsythe,
who, knowing that he had a brother
amongst the party, stooped when he
came up to him, and felt his features.
Having in this manner assured himself
that it was his own brother, he, without
hesitation, took him up, and placed him
on his back. And now the number
rapidly diminished; one after another
perished, being frozen to death . Forsythe
yet went on, bearmg his burden, which
neither his fatigue, nor the diiliculties
of the wav, could induce him to cast off
His body lay in the

l
As long as he had any strength, he per
severed, holding his brother on his back,
until at length, his powers giving way
before his affection, he sank beneath the
weight, and immediately expired. Be-
fore, however, he thus died, it appeared
that he had succeeded in saving his
brother, though he lost himself: for the
younger Forsythe had been gradually
reanimated by the warmth of his broth-
er’s body; and, when he dropped, was
so thoroughly aroused, that he was en-
abled to reach his home, having escaped
death by his brother’s generous sacri-
fice of himself, and had the melancholy
duty imposed upon him of attending his
kind brother’ s funeral. I
11. Affection, Maternal.
(a) A MOTHER’S SACRIFICE.-
Joanna Martin, the wife of a day-labon
er at Huntspill, in the northern part of
Somersetshire, England, was left a wi-
dow with six young children, and not a
shilling in the world to feed them with.
The parish officers had no objection to
receive the children into the poor-house ;
but the good mother would not part
with them, determining to depend, under
Providence, on her activity for their sup-
port.
“ For many a long month,” said she,
“have I risen daily at two o’clock in
the morning, done what was needful for
the children ; gone eight or ten miles on
foot, to a market, with a large load of
pottery-ware on my head, sold it, and re-
turned with the profits before noon.”
By this hard labor, in the course of a
year, she saved a guinea and a half;
when, being under the necessity of
leaving her cottage, she determined to
erect one for herself. She did much of
the labor with her own hands; and told
some gentlemen, some years afterwards,
“ Well, with the assistance of a gracious
God, I was able to finish my cottage ;
which, though I say it myself, is a Very
tight little place.”
She aflerwards bought a cart and
pony, travelled still to market, brought
up her family, and, without either beg-
ging, or seeking relief from the parish,
obtained a living.
To what labor and privation will pa-
34
AFF ECTION,
MATERNAL. I 1

ental affection animate the heart! How
much may be done by a person under
the influence of industry, temperance,
and iety!
(b) THE FISHERMAN’S WIFE.
—- One of the small islands in Boston
Bay was inhabited by a single poor
family. The father was taken suddenly
ill. There was no physician. The
wife, on whom every labor for the
household devolved, was sleepless in
care and tenderness by the bedside of
her suffering husband. Every remedy
in her power to procure was adminis-
tered, but the disease was acute, and
he died. Seven young children mourned
a_round the lifeless corpse. They were
the sole beings upon that desolate spot.
Did the mother indulge the grief of her
spirit, and sit down in despair’.2 No:
she entered upon the arduous and sa-
cred duties of her station. She felt that
there was no hand to assist her in bury-
ing her dead. Providing, as far as
possible, for the comfort of her little
ones, she put her babe into the arms of
the oldest, and charged the two next in
age to watch the corpse of their father.
She unmoored her husband’s fishing
boat, which, but two days before he had
guided over the seas, to obtain food for
his family. She dared not yield to
those tender recollections, which might
have unnerved her arm. The nearest
island was at the distance of three miles.
Strong winds lashed the waters to foam.
Over the loud billows, that Wearied and
sorrowful woman rowed, and was pre-
served. She reached the next island,
and obtained necessary aid. Y/Vith such
energy did her duty to her desolate
0abes inspire her, that the voyage,
which depended on her individual effort,
was performed in a shorter time than
the returning one, when the oars were
managed by two men, who went to as-
sist in the last offices to the dead.
(0) THESE ARE MY JEWELS.
——A Campanian lady, who was very
rich, and fond of pomp and show, being
on a visit to Cornelia, the illustrious
mother of the Gracchi, displayed the dia-
monds and jewels she possessed, with
some ostentation, and then requested
Cornelia to permit her to see her jewels.
This eminent woman dextrously con-
trived to turn the conversation to ano-
ther subject, till her sons returned from
one of the public schools; when she
introduced them, saying, “These are
my jewels.”
(cl) THE SLAVE MOTHER
CROSSING THE OHIO.-—-‘IV e re-
member, says a writer in the True
American, the story of a cruel master,
who, without cause, had determined to
sever a slave mother, and her only
child. She had been faithful under the
very worst usage, and she determined
to remain so, until he told her, that on
the morrow, her child must be borne to
New Orleans to be sold there in the
slave mart. It was mid-winter. The
earth was frosted with a hard crust, yet
at midnight she started for the Ohio.
determined, if she could, to live and die
with her child. She reached its banks
as the pursuers rose on the hill beyond
—no boat was near—-masses of broken
ice were sluggishly drifting along——
what was she to do’! Trustmg to hea-
ven, she put her feet on the treacherous
element, and with it bending and break-
ing beneath her, (spectators on either
side expecting to see her and her child
sink at every moment,) she boldly
pushed on from cake to cake, until she
landed safely on the Ohio shore. Five
minutes sooner and she must have
perished—-two minutes later and she
would have met with a watery grave,
for before she had proceeded twenty
steps the ice behind her, close on the
Kentucky side, had broken and was
scattered ere she reached the mid river.
“Thank God you and your child are
safe,” exclaimed the hard-hearted mas-
ter, as he saw her land, rejoiced that he
had escaped the responsibility of their
death. “Brave woman,” said a Ken-
tuckian who had wittnessed her escape
and met her at the landing, “ you have
won your freedom and shall have it.”
The mother and the child were kept
together, and liberty and love is now
their lot in their humble but happy
home. Was there not true heroism
here, and is not the scene worthy the
sweetest song of poetry or the holiest
praise of man’.Z
(6) “THE MOTHER’S ROCK.”—-
Humboldt, in his celebrated travels, tells

35
ll, 12
AFFECTION.
“-
us, that after he had left the abodes of
civilization far behind, in the wilds of
South America, he found, near the con-
fluence of the Atabapo and Rio T ernie
rivers, a high rock—called the “ MoTH-
ER’S Rocx.” The circumstances which
gave this remarkable name to the rock,
were these :
In 1799, a Roman Catholic Mission-
ary led his half-civilized Indians out on
one of those hostile excursions, which
they often made to kidnap slaves for the
Christians. They found a Guahiba
woman in a solitary hut, with three
children—two of whom were infants.
The father, with the older children, had
gone out to fish, and the mother in vain
tried to fly with her babes. She was
seized by these man-hunters, hurried
into a boat, and carried away to a mis-
sionary station at San Fernando.
She was now far from her home ; but
she had left children there who had gone
with their father. She repeatedly took
her three babes and tried to escape, but
was as often seized, brought back, and
most unmercifully beaten with whips.
At length the missionary determined to
separate this mother from her three
children; and for this purpose, sent her
in a boat up the Atabapo River, to the
missions of the Rio N e-gro, at a station
called Javita. Seated in the bow of the
boat, the mother knew not where she was
going, or what fate awaited her. She
was bound solitary and alone in the bow
of the long-boat; but she judged from
the direction of the sun, that she was
going away from her children. By a
sudden effort she broke her bonds, plung-
ed into the river, swam to the left bank
of the Atabapo, and landed upon a
Rock.
She was pursued, and at evening re-
taken, and brought back to the rock,
Where she was scourged till her blood
reddened the rock,——calling for her
children! and the rock has ever since
been called, “ THE MoTHER’s Rocx !”
Her hands were then tied upon her back,
still bleeding from the manatee thongs
of leather. She was then dragged to
the mission at Javita, and thrown into a
Kllld of stable. The night was pro-
foundly dark, and it was in the midst of
he rainy season. She was new full

pm-'-__
seventy-five miles from her three chil-
dren in a st1aight line. Between her
and them layr forests never penetrated
by human footsteps ; swamps and mo-
rasses, and rivers, never crossed by
man. But her children are at San Fer-
nando ;-—and what can quench a moth-
er’s love! Though her arms were
wounded, she succeeded in biting her
bonds with her teeth, and in the morn
ing she was not to be found! At the
fourth rising sun she had passed
through the forests, swam the rivers,
and all bleeding and worn out, was
seen hovering round the little cottage in
which her babes were sleeping!
She was seized once more ; and before
her wounds were healed, she was torn
again from her children, and sent away
to the missions on the upper Oroonoko
River, where she drooped, and shortly
died, refusing all kinds of nourishment
—died of a broken heart at being torn
from her children I Such is the history
of the “MoTHER’s Rock!”
This fact might be employed to show
the pernicious tendency of slavery, even
when engaged in by those Who profess
Christianity ; but it is cited here to
show the strength of maternal affection.
Wherever you find woman, whether ex-
alted to her place by the Gospel, reduced
to a mere animal by Mohammedanism,
or sunk still lower by Paganism, you
find this same unquenchable love for
her children !
IQ. Affection, Paternal.
(a) THE WARRIOR PLAYING
WITH HIS CHILDREN.-—The war-
like Agesilaus was, within the walls of
his own house, one of the most tender
and playful of men. He used to join
with his children in all their innocent
gambols, and was once discovered by a
friend showing them how to ride upon a
hobby-horse. When his friend express-
ed some surprise at beholding the great
Agesilaus so employed, VVait,” said the
here, “till you are yourself a father,
and if you then blame me, I give you
liberty to proclaim this act of mine to
all the world.”
(Z1) SOCRATES’ REPLY TO
ALCIBIADES.—-Socrates was once
36
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION.
~——- —_

surprised by Alcibiades, playing with his
children. The gay patrician rather
scoffed at him for joining in such sports,
to which the philosopher replied, “ You
have not such reason as you imagine to
laugh so at a father playing with his
zhild. You know nothing of that af-
fection which parents have to their chil-
dren ; restrain your mirth till you have
children of your own, when you will,
perhaps, be found as ridiculous as I now
seem to you to be.”
(0) THE FATHER’S DILEM-
MA.—-History informs us, that a father
went to the agents of a tyrant to en-
deavor to redeem his two sons, military
men, who, with some other captives of
war, were appointed to die. He offered
as a ransom to surrender his own life
and a large sum of money. The soldiers
who had it in charge to put them to
death, informed him that this equivalent
would be accepted for one of his sons,
and for one only, because they should
be accountable for the execution of two
persons : he might therefore choose
which he would redeem. Anxious to
save even one of them, thus, at the ex-
pense of his own life, be yet was utterly
unable to decide which should die, and

remained in the agony of his dilemma
so long, that his sons were both slain.
(d) FATHER, WHIP ME BUT
DON’T CRY.—A pious father had de-
voted very great attention to the moral
and religious education of his son, who
had maintained an unblemished reputa-
tion for veracity until the age of four-
teen, when he was detected in a de-
liberate falsehood. The father’s grief
was great, and he determined to punish
the offender severely. He made the
subject one of prayer; for it was too
important, in his esteem, to be passed
over as a common occurrence of the
day. He then called his son, and pre-
pared to inflict the punishment. But
the fountain of the father’s heart was
broken up. He wept aloud. For a
moment the lad seemed confused. He
saw the struggle between love and jus-
tice in his parent’s bosom, and broke
out with all his usual ingenuousness,
“Father, father, whip me as much as
you please ; but don’t cry.” The point
was gained. The father saw that the
lad’s character was sensibly affected by
this incident. He grew up, and be-
came one of the most distinguished
Christians of America.
AFFLICTION.
18. Benefits of Affliction.
(a) CECIL AND THE BOOKSEL
LER.——Many years ago, a pious and
devoted clergyman entered the shop of
a prosperous London bookseller, with
whom he was on terms of intimate and
Christian friendship. He inquired for
his friend, and when told that he was
at home, but particularly engaged, sent
a messenger to him to the effect that he
wanted an interview with him, if but
for a few minutes. This message being
delivered, the clergyman was invited to
Walk up stairs, into the bookseller’s
sitting room. He entered the room,
and found his friend sitting by his
child’s cot. The child Was dying, but,
with affection strong in death, it had
clasped its father’s hand, and was held-
ing it with a convulsive grasp.

“ You are a father,” said the afflicted
parent, “or Ishould not have allowed
you to witness such a scene.”
“ Thank God, thank God,” fervently
exclaimed the minister, as he instinc-
tively comprehended at a glance the
situation of his friend: “thank God.
He has not forgotten you! I have been
much troubled on your account, my
dear sir. I have thought much about
you lately. I have been much afraid
for you. Things have gone on so well
with you for so long a time, you have
been so prosperous, that I have been
almost afraid that God had forgotten
you. But I said to myself, surely God
will not forsake such a man as this;
will not suffer him to go on in prosperity,
without some check, some reverse!
Andl see he has not. No; God has
not forgotten you.”
Q”
13
AFFLICTION .

"W
These were the sentiments of Rich-
ard Cecil on tne design of affliction;
and his friend, Thomas VVilliams, thank-
fully and joyfully responded to them.
Within three weeks of his death, he
related the incident, as it is related here,
and the feeling of his heart was, “ He
hath done all things well.”
([2) MR. DOD AND HIS PERSE-
OUTIONS.—-While the eminent Puri-
tan minister, Mr. Dod, resided at Han-
well, he was the subject of much
persecution and sorrow. Going once
to see his relative, the Rev. Mr. Green-
ham, of Dry-Drayton, and lamenting
the state of his mind to him, the worthy
minister replied, “ Son, son, when afllic-
tion lieth heavy, sin lieth light.” This
saying conveyed great comfort to Mr.
Dod, who rejoiced that God could make
affliction the means of his sanctification ;
and used afterwards to say, that, “ sancti-
fied afllictions are spiritual promotions.”
(c) NO‘/V HAVE I KEPT THY
WVORD.—Sarah Howard, a poor old
widow who had been bedridden fourteen
years, when visited by her minister, thus
spoke of her afflictions :—-“ I can set to
my seal, that‘ the Lord has chastened me
sore, but he hath not given me over un-
to death,’ Psalm cxviii. 19. I have
been chastened in my person, and am
quite helpless, by long and severe ill-
ness; I have been chastened in my cir-
cumstances ever since I was left a wi-
dow; yes, I know what oppressing a
widow, what bad debts, and hard cre-
ditors are: I have been chastened in
my family, by a son, whom I was do-
tingly fond of, running away and going
to sea. Besides all these, I have been
chastened in mind, ‘walking in dark-
ness and having no light :’ yet after all,
I trust I can say with David, ‘ Before I
was afllicted I went astray, but now have
I kept thy word.’ And I hope I can
say that I am now returned to the Shep-
herd and Bishop of souls,” 1 Pet. ii. 25.
(Ci) SAVED BY A DISEASED
LlMB.———A young man, who had been
long confined with a diseased limb, and
was near his dissolution, was attended
by a friend, who requested that the
Wound might be uncovered. VVhen this
was done, “ There,” said the young man,
" there it is, and a precious treasure it

has beer to me ; it saved me from the
folly and vanity of youth ; it made me
cleave to God as my only portion, and
to eternal glory as my only hope : and
I think it has now brought me very near
to my Father’s house.”
(6) THE SICK CHRISTIAN USE-
FUL.-—Ann Meiglo, a poor distressed
woman in the parish of Portmoak, when
visited by Mr. Ebenezer Erskine, said
to him, “ O, sir,I am just lying here a
poor useless creature.” “ Think you ’!”
said he. “ I think, sir, what is true, ifI
were away to heaven, I would be of
some use to glorify God without sin.”-—
“Indeed, Annie,” said Mr. Erskine, “I
think you are glorifying God by your
resignation and submission to his will,
and that in the face of many difficulties
and under many distresses. In heaven
the saints have no burdens to groan un-
der ; your praises, burdened as you are,
are more wonderful to me, and I trust
acceptable to God.”
(f) OWEN ON FORGIVENES‘S.——
The orign of Dr. Owen’s great practi-
cal work on the Forgiveness of Sin, or
Psalm 130, was related by the doctor in
the following circumstances :
A young man, who afterwards became
a minister, being under serious impres-
sions, came to him for counsel. In the
course of conversation the doctor asked,
“ Pray, in what manner do you think to
go to God ?” “Through the Mediator,
sir,” said the young man. To which Dr.
Owen replied,“ That is easily said ; but
it is another thing to go to God through
the Mediator than what many who use
the expression are aware of. I myself
preached some years when I had but
very little if any experimental acquaint-
ance with access to God through Christ,
until the Lord was pleased to visit me
with sore affliction, by which I was
brought to the mouth of the grave, am.1
under which my soul was oppresseo
with horror and darkness. But God
graciously relieved my spirit by a pow-
erful application of Psalm cxxx. 4,
‘ There is forgiveness with thee that
thou mayest be feared ;’ from whence I
received special instruction, peace and
comfort in drawing near to God through '
the Mediator, andl preached thereupon
after my recovery.”
38
‘ BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION.
13
Qu-—-

None who seriously and prayerfully
read this treatise will fail to discover
the grounds and the appropriateness
of the above appeal to an inquiring
youth, the rich sources from which the
author has drawn divine instruction,
and its adaptation to the wants of every
perishing soul.
( g) THE STUDENT’S SICK-
NESS.—-A New England divine, who
was preaching on the benefit derived
from affliction, said: I once knew a
young man, who was a student in one
of our universities, who, by reading Dr.
Combe’s works and others, had become
very skeptical on some important points
-—the doctrine of prayer, total depravi-
ty, regeneration, and the special influ-
ences of the Holy Spirit. Though he
professed religion and was studying for
the ministry, he had lost all religious
enjoyment, and was fast going down an
inclined plane into the abyss of infidelity.
During a vacation in midwinter, he was
travelling on business among the Ger-
mans in the interior of Pennsylvania,
when he was prostratcd on his bed with
a dangerous disease—hundreds of miles
from home. “a stranger in a strange
land.” WVhen he began to think of dy-
ing, he found himself all unprepared.
His new sentiments hovered like dismal
clouds around his sick-bed, that not a
star of hope shone through. There was
little time for logic then: but one spe-
cies of short-hand logic swept away his
skeptical notions like chaff. He rea-
soned from effect to cause. “ Embrae
ing these new sentiments has evidently
brought my mind into this wretched con-
dition; and as the fruit is bad, the tree
must be had also. ‘He that followeth
me,’ says Christ, ‘ shall not walk in
darkness ;’ therefore, as I am walking
in darkness, it must be because I have
been led astray from him. These new
opinions must, therefore, be erroneous,
and I will renounce them forever, em-
brace, in all humility and simplicity,
the truths of the Gospel, as I embraced
them at the first.” Right speedily did
he put his resolve into action; and he
soon found his way back to the fold of
Christ, to the Shepherd and Bishop of
souls. He recovered from his sickness
and returned hon e, rejoicing to tell his

friends what God had done for his soul.
And that young man, my hearers, is
preaching to you today! I have many
blessings for which to thank God, for He
has strown my way with the gifts of
His providence ; but for the blessing of
that afflicting illness, I sometimes feel
as if I ought to praise and thank Him
most. And if I am ever so happy as to
get home to heaven, I know I shall re-
member that affliction with gratitude
still! It will be a theme on which I
shall love to linger, one which shall
prompt many anthems of my rejoicing
there.
(it) THE BACKSLIDER BE-
REAVED AND RESTORED.—A
young lady, who belonged to a church
in the city of New-York, married a
young man who was not a Christian.
He was a merchant, engaged in a lucra-
tive business, and the golden stream of
wealth flowed in upon him till he had
amassed a large fortune. He accord-
ingly retired from business and went
into the country. He purchased a splen-
did residence; fine trees waved their
luxuriant foliage around it; here was a
lake filled with fish, and there a garden
full of rare shrubbery and flowers.
Their house was fashionably and ex-
pensit ely furnished ; and they seemed
to possess all of earth that mortal could
desire. Thus prospered, and plied with
an interchange of civilities among her
gay and fashionable neighbors, the piety
of the lady declined, and her heart be-
came wedded to the world. And it is
not to be wondered at, that her three
children, as they grew up, imbibed her
spirit and copied her example.
“ A severe disease,” it is said, “ de-
mands a severe remedy,” and that God
soon applied. One morning intelligence
came that her little son had fallen into
the fish-lake and was drowned. The
Imother’s heart was pierced with the
affliction, and she wept and murmured
against the providence of God. Soon
after, her only daughter, a blooming girl
of sixteen, was taken sick of a fever and
died. It seemed then as if the mother’s
heart would have broken. But this new
stroke of the rod of a chastening Father
seemed but to increase her displeasure
against his will.
39
AFFLICTION.
-—_-____~-_--_..- ._~_
The only remaining child, her oldest
nOI1, who had come home from college
to attend his sister’s funeral, went out
into the fields soon after, for the purpose
of hunting. In getting over a fence, he
put his gun over first to assist himself
in springing to the ground, when it ac-
cidentally discharged itself and killed
him! lVhat then were that mother’s
feelings? In the extravagance of her
grief, she fell down, tore her hair, and
raved like a maniac against the provi-
dence of God. The father, whose grief
was already almost insupportable, when
he looked upon the shocking spectacle
and heard her frenzied ravings, could
endure his misery no longer. The iron
entered into his soul, and he fell a speedy
victim to his accumulated afflictions.
From the wife and mother her husband
and all her children were now taken
away. Reason returned, and she was
ed to reflection. She saw her dreadful
nackslidings, her pride, her rebellion;
and she wept with the tears of a deep
repentance. Peace was restored to her
soul. Then would she lift her hands to
heaven, exelaiming, “I thank thee, O
Father ! The Lord hath given, the
Lord hath taken away, and blessed be
-he name of the Lord.” Thus did her
afflictions yield the peaceable fruit of
righteousness, and her heavenly Father
chasten her, “not for His pleasure, but
for her profit, that she might become
partaker of His holiness.”
SAVED FROM A ROBBER
BY RAIN.—-A merchant was one day
returning from market. He was on
horseback, and behind him was a valise
filled with money. The rain fell with
violence. and the good old man was wet
to his skin. At this he was vexed, and
murmured because God had given him
such bad weather for his journey.
He soon reached the borders of a
thick forest. Vi/hat was his terror on
beholding on one side of the road a
robber, with levelled gun, aiming at him
and attempting to fire! But the powder
. beino wet by the rain, the gun did not
go o ,and the merchant, giving spurs
to his horse, fortunately had time to
escape.
As soon as he found himself safe, he
:aid to himself: “How wrong was I,

‘
not to endure the rain patiently as sen.
by Providence. If the weather had
been dry and fair, I should not, probably,
have been alive at this hour, and my
little children would have expected my
return in vain. The rain which caused
me to murmur, came at a fortunate mo-
ment, to save my life and preserve my
property.” And thus it is with a mul-
titude of our afiiictions ; by causing us
slight and short sufferings, they preserve
us from others far greater, and of longer
duration.
A CHAIN OF CALAMITIES.
——A Christian whom God had prospered
in his outward estate, and who lived in
ease and plenty on his farm, suffered
the world to encroach so much upon his
affections, as sensibly to diminish the
ardor of his piety. The disease was
dangerous, and the Lord adopted severe
measures for its cure. First, his wife
was removed by death ; but he still re-
mained worldly-minded. Then a be-
loved son; but, although the remedy
operated favorably, it did not effect a
cure. Then his crops failed and his
cattle died; still his grasp on the world
was not unloosed. Then God touched
his person, and brought on him a lin-
gering, fatal disease; the world, how-
ever, occupied still too much of his
thoughts. His house finally took fire ;
and as he was carried out of the burn-
ing building, he exclaimed: “Blessed
be God, I am cured at last.” He
shortly after died happy in the antici-
pation of a heavenly inheritance.
(la) DIVINITY TAUGI-IT BY
AFFLlCTION.—A minister was re-
covering of a dangerous illness, when
one of his friends addressed him thus :
“ Sir, though God seems to be Dringing
you up from the gates of death, yet it
will he a long time before you will suf-
fieiently retrieve your strength, and re-
gain vigor enough of mind to preach as
usual.” The good man answered :-—-
“ You are mistaken, my friend ; for this
six weeks’ illness has taught me more
divinity than all my past studies and all
my ten years’ ministry put together.”
(Z) EFFECT OF ILLNESS ON
DR. CHANDLER.——It used to be said
of Dr. Chandler, that, after an illness
he always preached in a more evangeli
40
‘ GRATITUDE FOR AFFLICTION.
13, 14


cal strain than usual. A gentleman
Who occasionally heard him said to one
of his constant auditors: “ Pray, has
not the doctor been ill lately?” “ Why
do you think so '2” “ Because the ser-
mon was more evangelical than he
usually preaches when he is in full
health.”
(m) GOD MEANT IT FOR GOOD.
-A few years since, says a writer in
the Pastor’s Journal, I~was engaged in
a wholesale mercantile business in the
city of New-York; but ill health and
other circumstances compelled me to
close it and remove to the country. My
young men were most of them from
pious families; some were warm-heart
ed Christians, and all of them succeeded
in finding eligible situations but one.
S. was my youngest clerk; his talents
were respectable; his conduct, as far
as I could judge, was irreproachable;
but my best efforts, and those of his
friends, could not secure him a situation.
After months spent in vain endeavors to
find an opening in the business of his
choice, and a year occupied on a foreign
voyage without success, he returned to
the country and engaged reluctantly in
a mechanical business, which his father
followed, near the place where I had
settled. I saw him but seldom; but
when I met him as his friend, I was
treated with marked coldness. I was
at a loss to account for it, and at length
demanded an explanation, when I found
the whole family considered me culpa-
bly to blame in not procuring him a
situation in New-York, after I had no
longer occasion for his services. It was
indeed a niystery even to myself, that
the path to manhood chosen by S. and
his friends, should be so hedged up as
to compel him to walk in another. S.
however continued his mechanical pur-
suits, and, in the providence of God, was
directed to the neighborhood of a pro-
tracted meeting. He was the child of
many prayers, and had more than once
lived through an awakening unchanged,
though not unaffected. He was now
drawn, by an impulse he could not re-
sist, to attend this meeting, feeling that
it mi<rht be the last strivings of the
Spiri . With trembling he took his
nlace on the anxio 1s seat, and, over-

whelmed with emotion, he retired from
the meeting to a field, where he gave
himself away to his Savior, and the
Spirit spake peace to uis soul. It was
but a few days after this happy event,
S. returned to our village, (where his
parents still reside,) and the humble,
meek, and gentle air which his manly
countenance had assumed, in place of
the haughty, discontented form, was ap-
parent to every one. I was confined to
my house by indisposition, and was de-
lighted to welcome him who had scarce-
ly entered my dwelling since his return
from the city. He modestly gave me
an account of the change in his feelings
and happiness, in presence of some
members of my family, and solicited a
private interview. On retiring with
him, he said to me, with tears in his
eyes: “ IlIy mind has been sorely troubled
by the recollection of some things I did
in your store. I was tempted to take
sundry small articles, for my own use,
without your knowledge or consent, a-
mounting, I should think, to five dollars,
and I cannot rest untzl I have paid you
for them ! !” A crowd of reflections
rushed into my mind. I felt over-
whelmed for a moment with a sense of
the goodness of God, in so counteracting
all his plans as to save him from the
vortex which was opening before him.
He had begun to rob his employer, and,
as the progress in vice is rapid down-
ward, had not a kind Providence inter-
posed, S. would, in all probability, have
become, ere this, a tenant of the state
prison, and brought down the gray hairs
of his parents with sorrow to the grave.
I pointed out to him, as I trust, faithfully
and profitably, the finger of God in his
rescue, and encouraged him to persevere
unto the end. It is now nearly two
years since this interview, and S. has
continued to give evidence of the since-
rity of the change, and bids fair to be-
come an ornament to society and a pil
lar in the church of Christ.
14. Gratitude for Affliction.
ta) GRATITUDE FOR SLA.
VERY.—-In the Southern section of the
United States, an African slave, whose
name was Jenny, was observed to fail in
4
I4
AFFLICTION.

_-.._ ‘ ¢-_---—\ __-_¢-—__—-——_- _--_-
her labor, and indications of some dis-
tress were visible in her countenance.
She was asked for the cause; she re-
plied, “ Jenny’s heart is sick.” She
was sent from the field, to the house, to
obtain relief; but none was gained.
She spent her days in silence ' only say-
ing, “Jenny’s heart is sick.” One day
she met her mistress, who was very
anxious for her case, in the yard, and
cried out, “ O mistress, Jenny is going
to die, and be lost. \/Vho will take
care of Jenny’s baby when she is gone ?”
Such was her distress at that moment,
that she sunk under its weight motion-
less at her mistress’s feet, who had her
taken kindly to her house, and attended
with care. Thus she continued for
some days, scarcely able to walk. But
one day, having got a short distance in-
to a forest, she there cried to God in her
distress, and God graciously heard her
mourning voice, and poured into her
sick heart the balm of Gilead, which
gave her immediate rehef. On this
occasion, when the light broke in on her
afflicted soul, and the pardoning love of
God in Christ was seen by faith, she
said, “ All the trees around cry, Glory!
and all the angels cry, Glory! and Jen-
ny cry Glory, too !” She now said,
when Jenny was in her native country,
she had no God, she knew no God ! But
in America, Jenny has learned there is
a God, and that he is hers. In Africa,
Jenny had no Jesus, she had no one to
tell her of Jesus. But she thanks God
that she was ever brought to America
to hear of a Savior. In Africa, Jenny
was ignorant of sin, and the wrath of
God; but in this favored land she has
been made acquainted with her sinful
and dangerous state, and the way of
salvation through a precious Redeemer.
Now Jenny lived, and sung, and looked
forward to the hope of glory, as the end
of sorrows, and certain reward of all
who, through faith and patience, wait
for the coming of our Lord Jesus unto
eternal life. Happy affiiction ! Blessed
African !
(Z2) BLINDNESS A BLESSING.-—-
Mary had learned to read, and at an
early age took great delight in her Bi-
ble; but before she was eighteen years
old, her sight b'egan to fail her, and in a

— ...-____ ~—.--_-_-.
very short time she became totally blind.
This, it will be thought, must have been ‘
a severe trial, at such an 'age, under any
circumstances, but more especially to
one who had always derived her chief
pleasure and enjoyment from her little
stock of books. Mary, however, has
learned from her Bible, that “God doth
not afflict willingly, nor grieve the chil-
dren of men ;” and she felt assured that
he would, in some way or other, make
this affliction tend to her eternal good.
“Many people pity me,” she said one
day, to a lady who was talking with her.
“ and say, it is hard to be blind; but I
don’t think it at all hard. Perhaps, 1f
Ihad not lost my sight,I should have
grown proud. I was very fond of read-
ing, and I should perhaps have thought
too much of knowledge ; I might have
been puffed up, and therefore the temp-
tation was mercifully taken from me.
The Lord knew that I needed some
trial, and he chose this for me. I am
glad he did, for I should not have known
what to have chosen for myself; I am
sure I should not have chosen this.
What, be blind ! No; for then I should
not be able to read, or to go about. 1
should not have chosen any thing that
was painful. I sometimes think,” she
continued, “ how many trials this keeps
me from, which I should not have known
how to bear!”
(0) THANKFUL FOR BLIND-
N ESS.—-A blind boy, who belonged to
the Institution in Dublin, when dying,
assured a correspondent of the Tract
Magazine that he considered it as one
of the greatest mercies of Heaven that
he had been deprived of his sight ; be-
cause this was the means the Lord em-
ployed to bring him under the sound of
the gospel, which was now the joy and
rejoicing of his soul. So much wisdom
and truth is there in the beautiful lan-
guage of the poet :-—
“ Good, when he gives, supremely good,
Nor less when he denies ;
E’en crosses, from his sovereign hand,
Are blessings in disguise.”
(cl) MARTIN LUTI-IER’S WILL.
——-in the last will and testament of this
eminent reformer occurs the following
remarkable passage :---“ Lord God, 1
thank thee, that thou hast been pleased to
42
. CON VERSION OF THE AGED.
14, 15

ma/re me a poor and indigent man upon
earth. I have neither house, nor land,
nor money, to leave behind me. Thou
hast given me wife and children, whom
Inow restore to thee. Lord, nourish,
teach, and preserve them, as thou hast
me.”
(e) A TOKEN OF GOD’S FA-
VOR.--Mr. Newton had a very happy
talent of administering reproof. Hear-
ing that a person, in whose welfare he
was greatly interested, had met with
peculiar success in business, and was
deeply immersed in worldly engage-
ments, the first time he called on him,
which was usually once a month, he
took him by the hand, and drawing him
on one side, into the counting-house, told
him his apprehensions of his spiritual
welfare. His friend, without making
any reply, called down his partner in
life, who came with her eyes suffused
with tears, and unable to speak. In-
quiring the cause, he was told she had
just been sent for to one of her children,
that was out at nurse, and supposed to
be in dying circumstances. Clasping
her hands immediately in his, Mr. N.
cried, “ God be thanked, he has not for-
saken you! I do not wish your babe to
suffer, but I am happy to find he gives
you this token of his favor.”
) KISSING THE OPPRES-
SOR’S HANDS.—-It is related of one,
who, under great severity, had fled
from the worst of masters to the best,
(I mean he had sought rest in the bosom

of Jesus Christ, the common friend of
AGED,
15. Conversion of the Aged.
(a) THE YOUNG CONVERT
AND HIS AGED MOTHER.——At a
village, in the Hastings circuit, (says
the W'esleyan Methodist Magazine,)
where the Gospel was introduced by
the Methodist preachers, a poor laboring
man was induced to hear the Gospel.
By the blessing of God it proved effec-
tual to his salvation. Having felt the
power of divine grace himself, he was

anxiously concerned for the spiritual
-__-—-_
the weary and the heavy laden,) that
he was so impressed with a sense of the
benefit he had derived from his afilic-
tions, that lying on his death-bed and
seeing his master stand by, he eagerly
caught the hands of his oppressor, ané
kissing them, said, “These hands have
brought me to heaven.” Thus many
have had reason to bless God for afllic-
tions, as being the instruments in his
hands of promoting the welfare of their
immortal souls.
(g) THE ROAD TO HEAVEN.——
Mr. Benn, of Highgate, had long been
the subject of a severe afiliction, which
at length terminated his valuable life,
before he had, to human appearance,
reached its meridian. The evening be-
fore his departure, he desired all his
children to come into his chamber ; and,
placing them ‘around his dying bed, thus
addressed them : “ You all know that I
am soon going to be removed from this
world to a better ; and I trust that you
are walking the same road, and will
soon follow me.”
To his eldest son he observed, “ ‘When
you go into the world, and are exposed
to persons who, perhaps, will ridicule
the Savior’s name and the Bible, do
not listen to them. Seek that society
which will help you to practise your
Bible; this book will provide comfort
for you when friends forsake you.-—
Every other comfort in this world has
its drawback, and is transitory. IV hen
you are in pain or suffering, write upon
it, ‘ The road to Heaven.’ ”
THE.
welfare of others. One of the first ob-
jects of his solicitude, was his mother.
She was upwards of ninety years of
age; deaf, dim-sighted, and very in-
firm ; totally in the dark as to the nature
of true religion, and altogether uncon-
cerned about her best interests. The
preaching was removed to her son’s
cottage, which was situated about a mile
from his mother’s residence; he wished
to bring her under the sounl of the
Gospel; but her infirmities, and his
poverty, pesented consider able difficul-
43
15- 16
AGED—REVERENCE FOR THE.
__ —_ _-__\

~I
t1es. She could not walk ;—-he had no
conveyance, and could not afford to hire
one, His intense desire for her salva-
tion, however, surmounted all hindran-
ces. I-Ie borrowed a cart; put himself
in the place of a horse ; and regularly
drew her to his house on the Sabbath
morning, and back again to her home
in the evening, when the weather would
permit. Being thus brought to hear
the word of reconciliation, divine light
shone into her mind; her conscience
was awakened, after a slumber of ninety
years; and she began to “call upon
the name of the Lord.” The God of
all grace hearkened to her cry; lifted
upon her the light of his countenance ;
and made her happy in the enjoyment
of his salvation. It is a singular fact,
that the great change wrought in her
mind was the occasion of producing
such a change in her appearance, that
she looked several years younger than
she did a few months before.
(/1) CONVERTED AT FOUR-
SCORE.—The son of a wealthy gra-
zier, in Rutlandshire, England, was
providentially led to a place of worship,
where he was deeply and savingly im-
pressed with the love of God. After-
wards he became a frequent attendant,
though living at the distance of twenty
miles. The old man, his father, just
then fourscore, perceived the change
which had taken place in his son, who,
on inquiry, told him all the circumstan-
ces, and the signal blessings which had
attended the preaching he had heard.
“Son,” said the old man, “I wishl
could hear the man myself; do you
think I can ride as far '2” “Father,”
said he, “if you will go to cousin W.’s
overnight, I think you could.” The
horses were saddled, and off went father
and son on Saturday night. On Sunday
they both went to church, and the Lord
blessed the very first discourse to the
old man’s heart, and‘ from that day he
began to confess Jesus Christ as his
strength and Redeemer. During two
summers he attended at the same place
of worship ; but infirmities confining
him to his bed, he requested the clergy-
man to visit him at his own house,
where he found him with tears running
down his cheeks, whilst he spoke of the

hardness of his heart, though it seemell
tender as that of a little child. “ Mr.
C.,” said the minister, “how old are
you ?” “Little more,” said he, “than
two years old; for Ican only reckon
my life from the time I knew the Lord
Jesus; the fourscore years before were
but a life of death.” At eighty-four he
departed, full of faith and hope, and en-
tered, at the eleventh hour, into the joy
of his Lord.
(0) CONVERSION OF THE
AGED RARE.--In a sermon to young
men, delivered at the request of the
Philadelphia Institute, Dr. Bedell said:
“I have now been nearly twenty years
in the ministry of the gospel, and 1 here
publicly state to you, that I do not be-
lieve I could enumerate three persons,
over fifty years of age, whom Ihave
ever heard ask the solemn and eternally
momentous question, ‘ What shall I do
to be saved?’ ”
16. ltovoronoo for the Aged.
(a) THE CHILD’S INQUIRY.-
A certain farmer in Connecticut, pos-
sessing a small estate, was persuaded
by his only son, (who was married and
lived with his father,) to give him a
deed of the property. It was according-
ly executed. Soon the father began to
find himself neglected; next removed
from the common table, to a block in
the chimney corner, to take the morsel
of food reluctantly given him. At last
the unnatural son resolved one day, to
try to break the afflicted heart of his
sire. He procured a block and began
to hollow it. While at work, he was
questioned by one of his own children,
what he was doing. “I am making a
trough for your grandfather to eat out
of.” was the reply. “Ah,” says the
child, “and when you are as old as
grandfather, shall I have to make a
trough for you to eat out of ?” The in-
strument he was using fell from his
hand. The block was cast on the fire ;
the old man’s forgiveness asked, and he
was restored to the situation to which
his age and worth entitled him.
(Z2) THE OLD WOMAN’S BLESS-
ING.—--A gentleman was once passing
through a village, and happened to se!
b
AGENTS OF BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
I6, 1'7

~’_-_ .-
a poor, feeble old woman let her stick
fall, and stand a moment in perplexity,
not knowing whether she dared to stoop
to pick it up or attempt to reach her
home without it. Just by the spot where
the accident happened, a group of boys
were playing at marbles; some of them
took no notice, others rudely marked
the poor old woman’s distress; but one
kind-hearted lad threw down his mar-
bles, ran to her assistance, and helped
her into her house. She thanked him,
and said, “God Almighty’s blessing be
upon you, for your kindness to a poor
old woman I” The gentleman saw and
heard the whole, and made inquiry
after the lad, in whom he felt deeply
interested. He found that he was al-
ready in the Sunday school, and, in all
probability, had there learnt the Scrip-
tures, that inculcate reverence to the
aged. From that time he had him in-
structed in writing and accounts at an
evening school; when old enough, he
assisted in apprenticing him, and in
course of ‘time had the satisfaction of
seeing him a respectable and flourishing
tradcsman.
(c) THE UNKIND SON REBUK-
ED.—There was once a man who‘ had
an only son, to whom he was very kind,
and gave every thing that he had.
When his son grew up and got a house,
he was very unkind to his poor old fa-
ther, whom he refused to support, and
turned out of the house. The old man
said to his grandson, “ Go and fetch the
covering from my bed, that I may go
and sit by the way-side and beg.” The
child burst into tears, and ran for the
covering. He met his father, to whom

he said, “I am going tu fetch the rug
from my grandfather’s bed, that he may
wrap it round him and go abegging !”
Tommy went for the rug, and brought
it to his father, and said to him, “ Pray,
father, cut it in two, the half of it will
be large enough for grandfather, and
perhaps you may want the other half
when I grow a man and turn you out
of doors.” The words of the child
struck him so forcibly, that he imme-
diately ran to his father, and asked
forgiveness, and was very kind to him
till he died.
(d) THE RUSSIAN PRlNCESS.—
A Russian princess of great bea nty, in
company with her father, and a young
French marquis, visited a celebrated
Swiss doctor of the eighteenth century,
Michael Scuppack ; when the marquis
began to pass one of his jokes upon the
long white heard of one of the doctor’s
neighbors who was present. He offered
to bet twelve louis d’ors that no ladv
present would dare to kiss the dirty old
fellow! The Russian princess ordered
her attendant to bring a plate, and de-
posited twelve louis d’ors, and sent it to
the marquis, who was too polite to de-
cline his stake.
The fair Russian then approached
the peasant, saying, “ Permit me, vene-
rable father, to salute you after the
manner of my country,” and embracing,
gave him a kiss. She then presented
him the gold which was on the plate,
saying, “ Take this as a remembrance
of me, and as a sign that the Russian
girls think it their duty to honor old
age.”
11. AGENTS OF BENEVOLENT SOCIETIES.
(a) THE SCOFFER CONFOUN D-
ED. —— VVhen the late Rev. Joseph
Hughes, A. M., was once travelling in
the service of the Bible Society, he
found by his side, upon the coach, a
grave and respectable looking person.
In conversing on topics of general atten-
tion, they soon came to the Bible Socie-
ty. His companion launched forth, in
vituperative terms, on its utopian char-

acter, and especially on its lavish ex-
penditure; noticing, in a marked way,
the needless and extravagant trave‘lling
expenses of its vaunted secretaries, as
Well as their enormous salaries. No
one, from Mr. Hughes’s countenance
and manner, could have conjectured
that he was a party concerned. “ But
what,” he mildly expostulated, “ would
be your conclusion, were you informed
15
17, 18
AMBITION.
that their service s were gratuitous ; and
that, with a view of curtailing as much
as possible the expense of travelling,
they usually, even in very inclement
seasons, fix on the outside, as,” he ad-
fled, “ one of them is now doing before
Vour eyes?” Need it be added, that
D0'tl1 the fact and the tone in which it
was announced, with the friendly con-
versation that ensued, converted an ene-
my into a friend ?
(/2) ROBERT HALL AS AN A-
GENT.——- The late Rev. Robert Hall
of Bristol was much grieved with the
want of economy in managing the fi-
nances of some of our public institutions.
“When you consider, sir,” said he,
“ the sources from which these monies

\—___q
are derived, and the objects to which
they are intended to be appropriated,
there ought to be no improvident expen-
diture of any kind. I know Mr.
who is employed in travelling and col-
lecting for the Bible Society; he puts
up at the principal inn in the place
where he happens to visit, and rather
than exert himself to rise early and
travel in the stage coach, I have heard
that he takes a post-chaise at the expense
of the society. These things ought
not to be countenanced. I invariably
endeavor to travel on such occasions,
sir, outside of the coach, and when,
from indisposition, I am compelled to
hire a post-chaise, I pay the extra ex-
pense out of my own pocket.”

18. AMBITION.
(a) THE WRESTLER’S RE-
FLECTION.—Philip, king of Mace-
don, as he was wrestling at the Olympic
games, fell down in the sand; and when
he rose again, observing the print of his
body in the sand, cried out, “O how
little a parcel of earth will hold us,
when we are dead, who are ambitiously
seeking after the whole world whilst we
are living I”
(I1) PYRRHUS AND THE PHILO-
SOPHER.--When Pyrrhus, king of
Epirus, was making great preparations
for his intended expedition into Italy,
Cineas, the philosopher, took a favorable
opportunity of addressing him thus :—
“ The Romans, sir, are reported to be a
warlike and victorious people; but if
God permit us to overcome them, what
use shall we make of the victory ’!”
“Thou askest,” said Pyrrhus, “a thing
that is self-evident. The Romans once
conquered, no city will resist us; we
shall then be masters of all Italy.”
Cineas added, “ And having subdued
Italy, what shall we do next '2” Pyrrhus,
not yet aware of his intentions, replied,
“Sicily next stretches out her arms to
receive us.” “ That is very probable,”
said Cineas, " but will the possession of
Sicily put an end to the war ?” “God
grant us success in that,” answered
Pyrrhus, “ and we shall make these

only the forerunners of greater things ,
for then Lybia and Carthage will soon
be ours: and these things being com-
pleted, none of our enemies can offer
any farther resistance.” “ Very true,”
added Cineas, “ for then we may easily
regain Macedon, and make an absolute
conquest of Greece; and. when all these
are in our possession, what shall we do
then '5” Pyrrhus, smiling, answered,
“IVhy then, my dear friend, we will
live at our ease, drink all daylong, and
amuse ourselves with cheerful conver-
sation.” “ VVell, sir,” said Cineas,
“ and why may we not do all this now,
and without the labor and hazard of an
enterprise so laborious and uncertain?”
Pyrrhus, however, unwilling to take the
advice of the philosopher, ardently en-
gaged in these ambitious pursuits, and
at last perished in them.
(0) HIGH HOPES OF BONA.
PARTE.—-Bonaparte, referring to the
siege of Acre, says: “I see that this
paltry town has cost me many men, and
occupies much time; but things have
gone too far not to risk a last effort. If
we succeed, it is to be hoped we shal.
find in that place the treasures of the pa-
she, and arms for thre'e h und red thousand
men. I will raise and arm the whole
of Syria, it hich is already greatly exas-
perated by the cruelty of Djezzar, for
46
AMBITION. 8

whose fail you have seen the people
supplioate Heaven at every assault. I
advance upon Damascus and Aleppo ;
[recruit my army by marching into
every country where discontent pre-
vails; I announce to the people the
abolition of slavery, and of the tyranni-
cal government of the pashas ; I arrive
at Constantinople with armed masses ; I
uverturn the dominion of the Mussul-
rnan; Ifound in the East a new and
mighty empire, which shall fix my po-
suion with posterity; and perhaps I
return to Paris by Adrianople or Vien-
na, having annihilated the house of
Austria.” YVhat a wide difference be-
tween what he then anticipated and
what he subsequently experienced I
(d) NAPOLEON AND THE PEA-
SANT BOY.—-I/Vhen Napoleon re-
turned to his palace, immediately after
his defeat at Waterloo, he continued
many hours without taking any refresh-
ment. One of the grooms of the cham-
ber ventured to serve up some coffee, in
his cabinet, by the hands of a child,
whom Napoleon had occasionally dis-
tinguished by his notice. The emperor
sat motionless, with his hands spread
over his eyes. The page stood pa-
tiently before him, gazing with infantine
curiosity on an image which presented
so strong a contrast to his own figure of
simplicity and peace; at last the little
attendant presented his tray, exclaiming,
m the familiarity of an age which knows
so little distinctions, “ Eat, sire ; it will
do you gooc .” The emperor looked at
him, and asked, “ Do you not belong to
Gonesse '2” (a village near Paris.)
“ No, sire, I come from Pierrefite.”
“Where your parents have a cottage
and some acres of land ’?”
“ Yes, sire.” “ There is happiness,”
replied the man who was still the em-
peror of France and king of Italy.
(6) NAPOLEON AND THE
CHURCH CLOCK.-—It is said of Na-
poleon Bonaparte, that at that period
of his life, when the consequences of
his infatuated conduct had fully de-
veloped themselves in unforeseen re-
verses, being driven to the necessity of
defending himself within his own king-
dom with the shattered remnant of his
army, he had taken up a position at


p_--_ .1-—-‘
Brienne, the very spot where he had
received the rudiments of his education ,
when, unexpectedly, and while he was
anxiously employed in a practical appli-
cation of those military principles which
first exercised the energies of his young
mind in the college of Brienne, his at-
tention was arrested by the sound of the
church clock. The pomp of his impe-
rial court, and even the glories of Ma-
rengo and of Austerlitz, faded for a
moment from his regard, and almost
from his recollection. Fixed for a while
to the spot on which he stood, in motion-
less attention to the well-known sound,
he at length gave utterance to his feel-
ings; and condemned the tenor of all
his subsequent life, by confessing that
the hours, then brought back to his re-
collection, were happier than any le
had experienced throughout the whole
course of his tempestuous career.
(f) THE ACCUSER’S FALL.-
One of Artaxerxes’ favorites, ambitions
of getting a place possessed by one of
the king’s best officers, endeavored to
make the king suspect that officer’s fi-
delity ; and to that end, sent inibrmation
to court full of calumnies against him,
persuading himself that the king, from
the great credit he had with his majes-
ty, would believe the thing upon his
bare word, without further examination.
Such is the general character of calum-
niators. The ofiicer was imprisoned;
but he desired of the king before he
was condemned, that his cause might
be heard, and his accusers ordered to
produce their evidence against him.
The king did so; and as there was no
proof of his guilt but the letters which
his enemy had written against him, he
was cleared, and his innocence fully
confirmed by the three commissioners
who sat upon his trial. All the king’s
indignation fell upon the perfidious ac-
cuser, who had thus attempted to abuse
the confidence and favor of his royal
master.
(g) A YOUNG LAWYER’S EX.
PERIENCE.—A correspondent of the
N ew-York Evangelist, says: I was ac-
quainted with a young man who knew
what ambition is in all its madness. He
sought to be great, and he sought for
nothing else. For years he thought and
IS
AMBITION.
no
---_
felt and dreamed about nothing else.
For that he labored and prayed: yes,
though an infidel, he believed in the ex-
istence of a God, and he used to pray to
him that he would grant him the object of
his desires. Often at midnight, when
the world was lost in sleep, he would
pause from those mental labors which
were destroying the energies of his
youth and wasting away his life, and
pray that God would give him intellec-
tual powers——that he would give him
might of mind which would enable him
to move and shake the world. He used
to tell God that he might deny him any
thing else if he would grant him only
this. And he was willing to pay any
price for it ; he was willing to do any
thing, or suffer anything, or sacrifice
any thing in order to gain it. And he
would promise if God would give him
power of intellect that he would exer-
cise it on the side of right and in oppo-
sition to wrong. With such feelings he
labored ten long years, and oh, how he
labored I He toiled night and day. For
weeks he would not retire to rest till
three or four o’clock in the morning,
and then not to sleep. His mind and
nervous system were in sucha state that
he could not sleep. He would lay two
or three hours in a dreaming, half-con-
scious state, and then he would rise and
commence his work again. And lest
the appetites and indolence of the body
might hinder him in his work if he
should live with other people, and
live as they did, he lived alone,
upon bread and water, and had no
bed in his room; only a blanket in
which he would wrap himself and lie
down upon the floor, with a large book
under his head for a pillow. He hated
every thing calculated to draw him a
moment from his studies. Even the
kind voice of his poor old mother, en-
treating him with tears to take some rest
or a little food, he hated, and he would
scowl upon her and turn madly away.
Thus he lived for many years until a
mighty change came over him. In a
book he was one day reading, occurred
these words: “ When all is gained,
how little then is won ! And yet to gain
that little how much is lost I” The words
arrested his attention 5 they sunk deep
into his heart, like the voice of a spirit!
The whole truth flashed like lightning
across his soul. He now beheld the
fame he had toiled for, as ABSOLUTELY
VVORTHLESS. “ When all is gained, how
little then is won!” said he. “Yes,
how little ! O, what is it 2 It is nothing.
Fame, O, what is it? The breath of
fools and devils. That is the object on
which I have set my whole heart, and
for which I have been laboring. IV/zen
all is gained, how little then is won!
And yet to gain that little how much is
lost.’ Yes, How MUCH IS Losrl O,
how I have been laboring and suffering
for it; Ihave given all for it; all of
this world, and all of the next.”
His whole frame shook under the
emotions such thoughts awakened-his
hard heart broke, and he wept ! Yes,
he who from childhood up had never
shed a tear. He wept burning tears of
agony--wept as a man, perhaps, never
weeps but once. Rage succeeded to
sorrow. “ Oh, what a fool I have been,”
said he; “what a wretched fool-the
fool of fools——the greatest fool in the
world!” He looked round upon his
books and papers, (for he was at this
time a lawyer,) and said, “This busi-
ness I have followed for HONOR, and
here it ENDS.” And he seized his books
and papers and threw them upon the
floor and stamped upon them. “Here
ENDS THIS BUSINESS,” said he. And
‘he went to his trunk and took out his
law diploma, and tore it in pieces----
seized his axe, knocked down his sign
and split it in pieces, and carried them
to the middle of the street, and trampled
them in the mud. He now felt that he
had nothing to live for. He thought
there might probably be something in
the Christian religion. He examined
its evidences, was convinced and con-
verted. And now the ambitious infidel
lives to preach the gospel of Christ.
Let young men read this and learn a
lesson. I would say to them, dread
ambition as you would a demon.
48
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GEORGE STEPHENSON. E E
ANEODOTE OF GEORGE STEPHENSON.
Joseph Hatt-on, the English author, relates a kind- I friendly hand on my head, and a kindly ‘ Don't you
ly anecdote of George Stephenson. He says : “ I I take the nests, my lad. it grieves the old bird ; come
had occasion once to remember it well, when dis- and have a peep at them. now and then, but don’t
turbed by the great engineer on a bird-nesting ex pe- 1 take them. You've no cause to be afraid, I used to
dition in his park. He seemed quite concerned at do it myself when I was a lad.”
my alarm, and was quick to reassure me, with a‘

ANCESTRY .
19
19. ANCESTRY.
(a) GEORGE III. AND THE
PEERAGE.—-It is remembered as one
of the liberal axioms of George III. that
“ no British subject is by necessity ex-
cluded from the Peerage.” Consistent-
ly with this sentiment, he once checked
a man of high rank, who lamented
that a very good speaker in the court of
aldermen was of a mean trade, by say-
ing, with his characteristic quickness,
“What signifies a man’s trade? A
man of any honest trade may make
himself respectable if he will.”
(b) LORD TENTERDEN’S RE-
TORT.—The obscurity of Lord Tent-
erden’s birth is well known, but he had
too much good sense to feel any false
shame on that account. We have heard
it related of him, that when in an early
period of his professional career, a bro-
ther barrister, with whom he happened
to have a quarrel, had the bad taste to
twit him on his origin, his manly and
severe answer was, “Yes, sir, I am
the son of a barber; if you had been
the son of a barber, you would have
been a barber yourself.”
(0) ClCERO’S RETORT.—Th1s
Roman orator was one day sneered at
by one of his opponents, a meanman of
noble lineage, on account of his low pa-
rentage. “You are the first of your
line,” said the railer; “and you,” re-
joined Cicero, “ are the last of yours.”
(d) DISTINGUISHED MEN OF
OBSCURE BIRTH. -- “ Euripides,”
says the Cabinet de Terture of Paris,
“was the son of a fruiterer, Virgil of a
baker, Horace of a freed slave, Anayot
of a currier, Voitureof a tax-gatherer,
Lamothe of a hatter, Sixtus the Fifth
of a swineherd, Fletcher of a chandler,
Masillon of a turner, Tamerlane of a
shepherd, Greinault of a journeyman
baker, Rollin of a herdsman, Molliere
of an upholstercr, J. J. Rousseau of a
watchmaker, Sir Samuel Romily of a
goldsmith, Ben Jonson of a mason,
Shakspere of a butcher, Sir Thomas
Lawrence of a custom-house oflicer,
Collins of a hatter, Gray of a notary,
Beattie of a farmer, Sir Edward Sug-

den of a barber, Thomas Moore of a
grocer, Rembrandt of a miller. These
men of genius were not men of leisure;
none of them enjoyed a patrimony ; and
under the regime of our liberal laws,
scarcely one amongst them, being nei-
ther eligible nor even an elector, could
sit in our Chamber of Deputies.
(e) THE NOBLEMAN AND THE
LION .—Crantz, in his Saxon History.
tells us of an Earl of Alsatia, surnamed
Iron on account of his great strength,
who was a great favorite with Edward
the Third of England, and much envied,
as favorites are always sure to be, by
the rest of the courtiers. On one ocea-
sion, when the king was absent, some
noblemen maliciously instigated the
queen to make trial of the noble blood
of the favorite, by causing a lion to be
let loose upon him, saying, according to
the popular belief, that, “if the earl was
truly noble, the lion would not touch
him.” It being customary With the
earl to rise at break of day, before any
other person in the palace was stirring,
a lion was let loose during the night,
and turned intothe lower court. IV hen
the earl came down in the morning,
with no more than a night-gown cast
over his shirt, he was met by the lion
bristling his hair, and growling destruc-
tion between his teeth. The earl, not in
the least daunted, called out with a stout
voice, “ Stand, you dog.” At these
words the lion couched at his feet, to
the great amazement of the courtiers,
who were peeping out at every window
to see the issue of their .ungenerous
project. The earl laid hold of the lion
by the mane, turned him into his cage,
and placing his night-cap on the lion's
back, came forth without ever casting
a look behind him. “ Now,” said the
earl, calling out to the courtiers, whose
presence at the windows instantly con-
vinced him of the share they had in this
trial of his courage, “ Let him amongst
you all, that standeth most upon his
edigree, go and fetch my night-cap.”
f) JAMES I. AND THE EARL’S
GEt\IEALOGY.-King James I., in his
4
49
20
ANGER-INDULGEI).
-- - _- -_-¢

-_-—_P - -—-,--_
progress into England, was entertained
at Lumley Castle, the seat of the Earl
of Scarborough. A relative of the no-
ble earl was very proud in showing and
explaining to his majesty an immensely
large genealogical line of the family;
the pedigree he carried back rather far
ther than the greatest strength of credu-
lity would allow. “ In gude faith, man,”
says the king, “ it may be they are very
true, but I did na’ ken before tha
Adam’s name was Lumley.”
ANGER.
20. Anger Indulged.
(a) ALEXANDER AND CLITUS.
---The folly and danger of anger is seen
in the conduct of Alexander. Clitus
was a person whom Alexander held 'very
dear, as being the son of his nurse, and
one who had been educated together
with himself. He had saved the life of
Alexander at the battle near the river
Granicus, and by him was made Prefect
of a province. But he could not flatter.
At a feast with the king, when both were
doubtless affected by wine, Clitus spoke
in high terms of the actions of Philip,
preferring them to those of his son.
Alexander, transported with anger,
seized a javelin and slew him on the
spot. But when he became sober and
his passion cooled, he was with difficulty
restrained from killing himself, for that
fault which his sudden fury had led him
to commit. He seemed smitten wnh
remorse for the murder, and inconsola-
ble for the loss of his friend.
(la) VIOLENCE OF HEROD.-—
The effect of indulging in anger is seen
in the case of Herod, the Tetrarch of
J udea. He had so little command over
his passion, that upon every slight occa-
sion his anger would transport him to
absolute madness. Sometimes he would
be sorry and repent of the injuries which
he had done when anger clouded his
understanding, and soon after commit
the same outrages ; so that none about
him were secure of their lives a mo-
ment.
(0) THE BOYS AND THE BALL-
CLUB.--T here were two brothers;
Alvah twelve, Michael nine years old.
They generally lived together as hap-
pily as most brothers do. But some-
times they would quarrel; and when
they did get angry with each other they

were very furious and reckless of each
other’s limbs and lives. Their parents
were very uneasy at times, lest in a fit
of anger one should kill the other.
Much they talked to them, and warned
them against anger, and against striking
each other with fists and clubs, and
throwing stones at each other. The
boys, when not in anger, appeared lov-
ing and kind, and would promise not to
strike and throw stones at each other.
One day they were earnestly engaged
in a game of ball. Michael had the
club, and had just knocked the ball.
Alvah caught it-—at least, he said he
did, and declared it was his turn to
knock it. Michael said he did not catch
it, but that he wanted to cheat, and
should not have the club. Alvah said
he would have it. They grew angry,
struggling for the club. Then Michael
started to run with it. Alvah caught a
stone and threw it at him. The stone
flew as if Winged with the wrath and
fury of him who threw it, and struck
Michael on the knee. It cut a deep
hole right on the joint. In a little while
the wound became painfully sore, and
Michael soon lost the use of his leg. In
time, it turned to a white swelling ; and
the leg had to be cutoff above the knee
to save his life.
All this pain and suffering, and maim-
ing for life, merely to decide who should
knock a ball ! Michael lost his leg to
defend his right to keep a ball-club!
For this trivial cause, Alvah inflicted
on his dear brother unspeakable suffer-
ing, and made him a helpless cripple
for life. This was a costly fight, arid
for a worthless object. Anger ofien
produces like results.
(d) AN EYE FOR A PIN.-~Two
boys, named Abel and Asa, were at the
same school in New-York, each about
50
I
ANGER”SUBDUED.
21

-.-_
ten years old ; not brothers, but school-
mates and class-mates. Both of them
had irritable tempers, and had been
taught to think they must resent injuries
and defend their rights at all hazards.
Playing pin was a common amusement
in the school. They played in this way:
Two boys would take a hat and set it
down between them, crown upward.
Then each boy would lay a pin on top
of the crown, and then knock it——first
one, and then the other. The one that
could knock the pins so that they would
lie across each other, had them both.
During recess, one day, Abel and Asa
were playing pin. They knocked the
pins about some time. Both became
much excited in the game. Finally,
Abel knocked the pins so that, as he
said, one lay‘across the point of the other.
Asa denied it. Abel declared they did,
and snatched up both pins. Asa’s anger
flashed in a moment, and he struck Abel
in the face with his fist. This excited
Abel’s wrath. They began to fight—-
the other boys clustering around, not to
part them, but to urge them on. Some
cried, “Hit him, Abel!” and some,
“ Give it to him, Asa !” thus stimulating
them to quarrel. The boys seized each
other, and finally came tumbling to the
ground, Abel on top. Then Abel, in
his fury, went to beating Asa in his
face, till the blood spouted from his nose
and mouth, and till Asa lay like one
dead. Then the boys pulled Abel off.
But Asa could not get up. The boys
began to be alarmed. They were afraid
Abel had killed him. The teacher was
called. He carried Asa in, washed the
blood from his face, and recovered him
from his stupor. I-Ie examined his face
and head, and found them bruised in a
shocking manner. One of his eyes was
so hurt and swollen he could not open
it. And from that day the sight of it
grew more and more dim, till it went
out in total darkness. So Asa lost an
eye, and Abel put it out, merely for
a pm .
(e) THE LITTLE MURDERER.
-—Two boys in a southern city, named
Augustus and Eugene, were playing
top. They had but one top, which they
spun alternately. At first they played
very pleasantly, but s)on became angry

and began to speak unkindly. Eugene
said, “ It is my turn to whirl the top.”
“ N o, it is not ; it is mine,” said Augus-
tus. They grew very angry about it.
Augustus at length said to Eugene,
“ You lie.” Eugene struck him. Au-
gustus struck back again. They seized
each other in a great rage ; and in the
scuffle Eugene took a long, sharp knife
from his pocket, and stabbed Augustus
so that he died in a few moments. Au-
gustus lost his life and Eugene became
a murderer, merely to decide whose turn
it was to spin a top !
AL Anger Snbdued.
(a) JOHN AND NICETAS.—John,
patriarch of Alexandria, had a contro-
versy with Nicetas, a chief man of that
city, which was to be decided in a court
of justice. John defended the cause of
the poor, and Nicetas refused to part
with his money. A private meeting was
held, to see if the affair could be adjust-
ed, but in vain ; angry words prevailed,
and both parties were so obstinate that
they separated more offended with each
other than before. VV hen N icetas was
gone, John began to reflect on his own
pertinacity, and although his cause was
good, “Yet,” said he, “ can I think that
God will be pleased with this anger and
stubbornness ? The night draweth on,
and shall I suffer the sun to go down
upon my wrath ? This is impious, and
opposed to the apostle’s advice.” He
therefore sent some respectable friends
to Nicetas, and charged them to deliver
this message to him, and no more : “ O
sir, the sun is going down!” Nicetas
was much affected, his eyes were filled
with tears; he hastened to the patriarch,
and, saluting him iii the most gentle
manner, exclaimed, “ Father, I will be
ruled by you in this or any other mat-
ter.” They embraced each other af-
febtionately, and settled the dispute in
stantly. .
( Z2) THE SUN IS ALMOST
DOVVN.—-Two good men on some oc-
casion had a warm dispute; and remem
bering the exhortation of the apostle,
“ Let not the sun go donn upon your
wrath,” just before sunset one of them
went to the other, and knocking at the
51
91, 22
ANN II-LLATION.

door, his offended friend came and open-
ed it, and seeing who it was, started
back in astonishment and surprise; the
other, at the same time, cried out, “ The
sun is almost down.” This unexpected
salutation softened the heart of his friend
into affection, and he returned for an-
swer, “Come in, brother, come in.”
What a happy method of conciliating
matters, of redressing grievances, and
of reconciling brethren l
(0) REV. MR. CLARKE’S WAY
TO DISPOSE OF ANGER.--It is
said of the Rev. Mr. Clarke, of Chesham
Bois, that when one observed to him
“there was a good deal in a person’s
natural disposition,” he made this an-
swer: “Natural disposition! VVhy, I
am naturally as irritable as any; but
when I find anger, or passion, or any
other evil temper arise in my mind, im-
mediately I go to my Redeemer, and,
confessing my sins, I give myself up to
be managed by Him. This is the way
that I have taken to get the mastery of
my passions.”
(d) XAVIER’S EXAMPLE.——Fran-
cis Xavier sometimes received, in the
prosecution of his zealous labors, the
most mortifying treatment. As he was
preaching in one of the cities of Japan,

_~'-_-¢\ -_.

some of the multitude macle sport 0'
him. One, more wanton than the rest,
went to him while he addressed the
people, feigning that he had something
to communicate in private. Upon his
approach, Xavier leaned his head to
learn what he had to say. The scorner
thus gained his object, which was to
spit freely upon the face of the devoted
missionary, and thus insult him in the
most public manner. The father, with-
out speaking a word, or making the
least sign of anger or emotion, took out
his handkerchief, wiped his face, and
continued his discourse, as if nothing
had occurred.
By such a heroic control of his pas-
sions, the scorn of the audience was
turned into admiration. The most
learned doctor of the city, who happen-
ed to be present, said to himself, that a
law which taught men such virtue, in-
spired men with such unshaken courage,
and gave them so perfect a victory over
themselves, could not but be from God.
Afterwards he desired baptism, and his
example was followed by many others.
So effectually did the meekness of the
missionary promote the success of he
work.
22. ANNIHILATION.
(a) A TERRIBLE DOCTRINE
FOR THE DY IN G.——A writer in the
Connecticut Evangelical Magazine,
states that a man of uncommon sagacity
and intellect of his acquaintance, was
for a long time affected with an appa-
rent debility. But the writer found by
conversing with him that he was under
conviction. He urged him to repent;
but he replied that he could not now
part with his worldly schemes. After
much solemn conversation they parted.
A year after they met, and the writer
soon saw in the temper and language
of the man, that his seriousness had de-
parted, and that his conscience was
scared. He now believed his former
state to have been hypochondriac, and
said, “ VVithin one week after I detect-
ed my folly in being thus anxio1s for

another world, I became well and hap
py, and have so continued. 1 now think
that all the notions I had concerning
the holiness of God, and the rewards
of another world, are false. As to
sin, it is evident there can be no such
thing; nor shall I exist after this body
dies, any more than the trees before us
will exist, and be happy or miserable.”
“ But,” said I, “ is it not a gloomy
thought that your existence will ceas~-
when your body dies ?” “ As for that,"
he answered, “I cannot help it, We
must make the most of what we have.”
He seemed determined not to think lest
he should be unhappy, and I left him,
having in vain attempted to induce a
review of his decision.
His life, for years, was what migh
be expected from his or lie. He seemed
52
ANTINOMIANISM.
23
co endeavor to erase from his mind all
thought of a hereafter. In this state,
an awful accident, in a moment, placed
before him an eternity, into which he
must very soon enter. The powers of
his ‘reason were in full strength. And
nov his beloved scheme of ceasing to
exist at death, became his terror. “And
have I,’ ’ said he, “done with existence’.Z
shall I presently cease to think, to see,
to feel’.2 Am I to exist for a few mo-
ments filled with pain, and then lie down
to be nothing forever ’.l I am pained for
the fruits of my labor; Ihave labored
for nothing; I cannot bid farewell to
the earnings of so many years.”

On being told by one who did no:
know his previous opinions, that he
certainly should exist; and that the
future being of men was indicated by
nature, and made sure by Sc1'ipt11r?y\
evidence, an aspect of still greater her
ror settled on his countenance; and,
after a pause of a minute, he replied:
“If those Scriptures are true, eternity ‘
will be more dreadful to me than the
loss of being. I will not believe them :
yet how dreadful the idea of sinking
into eternal, thoughtless night !" He
soon opened his eyes on the realities of
another world.
23. ANTINOMIANISM.
(a) EFFECT OF ANTINOMIAN-
ISM ON A YOUNG LADY.--A
young lady, of high family, was called
by grace, under the ministry of a pious
clergyman of the church of England.
The change upon her heart soon be-
came visible. In every good work she
was actively engaged. Bible Societies,
Missionary Societies, visiting and re-
lieving the sick, teaching a large Sun-
day School, which her exertions had
raised, constituted her constant employ-
ment. The floating money she possess-
ed, which had before this been appro-
priated to dress and worldly amuse-
ments, was now consecrated to God, and
devoted to carry forward the objects her
piety had formed. She was humble,
zealous, modest; and lived in the ad-
miration of all who knew her. Henry
and Scott were her favorite commenta-
tors, and the Bible her constant com-
panion: in every part of Biblical know-
ledge she made considerable progress.
But mark the deadly effects of error
upon her mind! Some clergymen, for
whom she possessed a high esteem, and
to whom she looked with implicit confi-
dence, ran from one error to another;
and she as implicitly followed them, and
soon became entirely imbued with the
Antinomian leaven. Her spirituality
of mind, tenderness of conscience, and
every truly pious feeling, rapidly de-

clined; and her exertions LO promote
the cause of God, and the welfare of
her fellow-creatures gradually declined
also. No books could she read, but
such as were of the Antinomian cast;
and no preachers could she hear, either
of the established church or dissenters,
but those of the strongest Antinomian
sentiments. In this state she called on
a dissenting minister, for whom, in her
better days, she had felt a great vene-
ration. He affectionately inquired after
the state of her mind, and what were
the advantages she had derived from
the sentiments she had embraced. She
replied, with all the confidence and
positiveness that conceit could inspire,
“That she was as safe, as to her eter-
nal state, as a saint in heaven.” “ But,”
said he, “ madam, do you feel yourself
as happy and as spiritual in your de-
votional exercises, as you used to do ?”
She replied, “I have learned to live
without them.” “ But do you not pray
in your closet '2” “Pray,” said she.
“ VVhat can I pray for '2” Shocked at
her reply, he rejoined, “Do you not
pray to be favored with a sense of par-
cloning mercy, and for grace to resist
sin '2” “ Such prayers,” answered she,
“in my view, would be perfectly ab-
surd; for my sins were imputed to
Christ, and pardoned from all eternity ;
and as to my being kept from sin, I am
53
23,2:
ANTIQUITY.
-0 '_~-_._\

‘-
sure God never designed that I should.
Iam complete in Christ, and there I
rest: all is finished.”
Every argument used, elicited simi-
lar replies. She proceeded on in this
course from bad to worse, and retaining
her creed, plunged again into the gaye-
ties of the world. In this state of pro-
fessing religion without religion, she
remained some years, until God laid
her upon the bed of severe affliction.
Light broke in again upon her mind;
she saw she was destitute of every
pious feeling; the errors of her creed
appeared in all their fallacy, nor could
she derive from it one ray of hope, nor
discover one Scriptural evidence of her
interest in Christ. The injury she
had done to others, by the dissemination
of error, the prejudice that had been
excited by her conduct against religion,
both in the members of her family and
others, bore with terrific weight upon
her conscience. But the Lord spared
her life, and mercifully delivered her
from the appalling delusion. In this
state, she wrote a most affecting peni-
tential letter to the minister already
referred to, saying she could never

forgive herself for the reproach she had
brought on Christ and his cause, can-
didly acknowledging, that the senti-
ments she had imbibed had destroyed
all scnse of moral obligation in her
mind ; and had deprived her of all holy
and spiritual enjoyment in religion.
(b) I-IILL AND THE ANTINU
MIAN.—-Rowland Hill would have
tried the critical sagacity of the most
erudite. His eccentricities are of great
notoriety. With many strong points
of character, he combined noflons pro-
digiously odd. One of those restless
infesters of places of worship, common-
ly called Antinomians, one day called
on Rowland Hill, to bring him to ac-
count for his too severe and legal gospel.
“Do you, sir,” asked Rowland, “hold
the ten commandments to be a rule of
life to Christians?” “Certainly not,”
replied the visitor. The minister rang
the bell, and on the servant making his
appearance, he quietly added, “John,
show that man the door, and keep your
eye on him until he is beyond the reach
of every article of wearing apparel, or
other property in the hall I”
24. AN TIQU ITY.
((1.) PRETEN SION S OF THE CHI-
NESE.——It is well known that the Chi-
nose pretend to an excessive antiquity.
Their chronology exceeds all bounds
of probability: and, could their preten-
sions be verified, the Mosaic account of
the creation must necessarily be dis-
credited. But we have a singular fact to
state, which will prove that their boasted
antiquity really falls within the limits of
the Mosaic chronology. For the evi-
dence we are about to produce, we are
iqdebted to the discoveries of modern
astronomy. The Chinese have ever
made a point of inserting in their calen-
dar remarkable eclipses, or conjunctions
of the planets, together with the name
of that emperor in whose reign they
were observed. To these events they
have also affixed their own dates. There
is a very singular conjunction of the
sun, moon, and several planets, record
ed in their annals, as having taken place
almost at the very commencement of
their remote history. The far-famed
Cassini, to ascertain the fact, calculated
back, and decidedly proved, that such
an extraordinary conjunction actually
did take place in China, February 26th,
1812 years before Christ. This falls
four hundred years after the flood, and
a little after the birth of Abraham.
Here are two important facts ascertain-
ed. The one is, that the Chinese are a
very ancient nation ; and the other, that
their pretensions to antiquity beyond
that of Moses are unfounded; because
this event, which they themselves re-
present as happening near the beginning
of their immense calculations, falls far
within the history and chronology of the
Scriptures.
1
APOLOGIES--APOSTACY.
25, 26
52. APOLOGIES-
ta) SWIFT AND THE LADY’S
DINNER.—A lady invited Dean Swift
.0 a most sumptuous dinner. She said,
“ Dear Dean, this fish is not as good as
Icould wish, though I sent for it half
across the kingdom, and it cost me so
much,” naming an incredible price.
“ And this thing is not such as I ought
to have for such a guest, though it came
from such a place, and cost such a sum.”
Thus she went on, decrying and under-
rating every article of her expensive
and ostentatious dinner, and teazing her
distinguished guest with apologies, only
to find a chance to display her vanity in
bringing her trouble and expense into.
view, until she exhausted his patience.
He is reported to have risen in a passion,
and to have said, “ True, madam, it is
a miserable dinner; and I will not eat
it, but go home and dine upon sixpence
worth of herring.”
(b) A SEN SIBLE HOST.--—Lord
Carteret, while Lord Lieutenant of Ire-
land, went one day unattended to Dr.

Delany, and told him he was come to
dine with him. He thanked his excel-
lency for the honor conferred on him.
The dinner was soon in readiness. It
was a simple meal, such as was suitable
for Dr. D. and his mother. The old lady
did the honors of the table. The host
made no apology for the entertainment,
but said to Lord C.,
“ To stomachs cloyed with costly fare
Simplicity alone is rare.”
Lord C. was highly pleased ; for though
a courtier, he hated ceremony when he
sought pleasure. At the close of the
meal, his excellency told Dr. D. that
he had always thought him a well-bred
man, but had never had so good a proof
before. “ Others,” said he, “ on whom
I have tried the same experiment, have
met me with as much confusion, as it
I had come to arrest them for high
treason ; nay, deprived me of their con-
versation, by undue attention to the din
ner, and then spoiled my meal by ful-
some apologies or needless profusion.”
26. APOSTACY.
(a) APOSTACY AND INTEM-
PERANCE.—Mr. was blessed
with a worthy parentage. All that
neart could desire was lavished upon
him, and especial regard was had to the
cultivation of his intellectual powers,
which, by nature, were of a superior
order. He received a college educa-
tion, and in early life was supposed to
be the subject of a gracious visitation
of the Spirit of God. His early Chris-
tian experience and deportment gave
the cheering promise, that ere long he
would be a “burning and a shining
light ;” but an awful disappointment
followed. Instead of devoting himself
and all his powers to the work of the
ministry, he chose the profession of the
law. However unpropitious that pro-
fession may be to the growth and energy
of true piety, the experience of his wor-
thy father, as well as the lives of seve-


ral eminent Christian lawyers, were a
sufficient guarantee that he too might
have served God in the profession of his
choice, if his heart had been right. But,
alas ! the fire of devotion had gone out.
Not only was the holy calling of the
Christian abandoned, not merely the
power of godliness lost, but even the
form of religion was in a great measure
relinquished, and he became a votary
of pleasure, and attached to the bottle.
The subject of this melancholy pic-
ture had many engaging qualities ; and,
in intervals of correct moral deportment,
was capable of affording much pleasure
to the social circle. At times, too, when
conscience raised her voice and lashed
him with the stings of remorse, he could
chide his wanderings, and cover himself
with reproaches. B' it his, alas! was
no the sorrow that worketh repentance
unto life ; it was the keen remorse, the
55
26
APUSTACY.
gnawing anguish of a victim of despair.
Mr. entered the married state, and
although the partner of his bosom did
not long continue with him, she left be-
hind her a child, whose tender age, it
might have been supposed, would have
induced the unhappy man to pause in
his ruinous course. But, alas I the en-
dearing relation of father had no charm
to break the fatal spell which the god
of this world had cast upon his soul. In
a little while his own father was stretch-
ed upon his dying couch ; and his last
moments were rendered bitter, not by
his own prospects, for he had hope in
Christ, but by the characte" of his un-
godly son.
These trying dispensations of Provi-
dence had no effect to reuse the unhappy
man from the awful lethargy into which
he was sunk, and yet his friends were
unwilling to give him up for lost. His
old companions, some of whom were
eminent as preachers of righteousness,
expostulated with him. Very many
solemn letters were addressed to him.
One, who never exchanged a word with
him, drew a faithful likeness of his cha-
racter; the deluded victim saw it in
print, and though not a little enraged at
the exposure, confessed that the pic-
ture was true. In spite of all this,
however, he still continued addicted to
spirituous liquors, and seemed to place
his chief delight in them.
He became, at length, united to an
amiable woman, in whose society he
might have shared many happy hours,
and days, and years, if strong drink
had not been dearer to him than all other
objects. For a short time he appeared
to conduct himself with propriety; but
old habits prevailed, and he became
their victim with more devotedness than
ever. Now and then he would express
his deep regret for the wicked course
he was pursuing, and appear to desire
earnestly that he might be delivered
from the horrid temptation ; but all his
seeming goodness was as the morning
cloud, and as the early dew.
N ot many weeks previous to the close
of this unhappy man’s career, he entered
into com ersation with an old friend, re-
specting his wicked course of life, and
remarked that he desired, above all

~_\- _
things, one circumstance to mark h'
dying hour: “It is,” said he, “that I
may not possess my reason.” “ What,”
rejoined the friend, “to die in a state of
derangement, Mr. I Is it possible
that can be your desire ?” “It is,” re-
plied the victim of despair. “I know
what has been my past life ; that I
have professed religion and apostatized ;
that I I“ave become an abandoned
wretch, lost to all shame and propriety ;
and I am sure, that if I were to have
my reason in my last moments, the re-
trospect of life would fill me with such
insupportable remorse, that I should be
a terror to my friends and to myself. I
know that I am not, and never shall be,
prepared for heaven, and I therefore
shall be damned ; and I Wish that these
things may not be in my thoughts in
my last moments, but thatl may be in-
sensible.”
At a time not very distant from the
period when he uttered the strange re-
marks above quoted, he told his wife, in
a very grave manner, that he should not
long be with her. To others of his
family he made the same or similar
statements; in all of which he named
the day on which he would cease to
exist. For a few days after this he
appeared to do pretty well, but soon re-
lapsed, and engaging in mirth and fes-
tivity, his thoughts of death were all
forgotten. Whenever he did speak of
death, however, he expressed his horror
of dying, associating with it, as he al-
ways did, the prospect of bitter remorse
for his past wickedness. He was at
length attacked by violent illness, which
brought on convulsions of the whole
frame, long continued, and often re-
peated for several days, during the
whole of which he was deranged, and
died as senseless as the brutes.
(I2) COMPA NIONS OF J.A. JAMES.
--The Rev. J. A. James relates in his
“ ANx1oUs INQUIRER AFTER SALVATION
DIRECTED AND ENCOURAGED,” that he be-
gan his own religious course with three
companions, one of whom was materi-
ally serviceable, in some particulars, to
him ; but he soon proved that his religion
was nothing more than transient devo-
tion. A second returned to his sin,
“like a dog to his vomit, and a sow tha

56
APOSTAC Y.
26
-_~¢n.-a—m-d
—-~-~',f
is washed to her wallowing in the mire."
The third, who was for some time his
intimate friend, inbibed the principles
of infidelity ; and so great was his zeal
for his new creed, that he sat up at
night to copy Paine’s “ Age of Reason.”
After a while he was seized with adam-
gerous disease: his conscience awoke;
the convictions of his mind were agoni-
Zing; his remorse was horrible. He or-
dered all his infidel extracts, the copying
out of which had cost him so many
nights, to be burnt before his face ; and
if not in words, yet in spirit—-
“ Burn, burn,” he cried, in sacred rage,
“ Hell is the due of every page.”
His infidel companions and his infidel
principles forsook him at once, and in
the hearing of a pious friend, who visit-
ed him, and to whom he confessed with
tears and lamentations his backsliding,
he uttered his confessions of sin, and
his vows of repentance. He recovered ;
but, painful to relate, it was only to re-
lapse again, if not into infidelity, yet,
at any rate, into an utter disregard to
religion.
(0) APOSTACY AND SUICIDE.-—
John Child, of Bedford, England, in early
life professed religion, and was for some
years zealous in its extension, both by
preaching and writing. But yielding
to temptation, and indulging a spirit of
pride, he became the avowed enemy of
the gospel, and wrote a book against the
truths he had professed to love. After
this, he was brought into a very awful
state of mind, absolutely despairing of
the mercy of God being extended to him.
He was visited by several ministers and
others, but without any good effect, and
at last committed suicide, by hanging
himself in his own house, in the year
1684.
(d) SPIRA’S DEATH-BED.—Fram
eis Spira, an Italian lawyer, embraced
Christianity, discovered great zeal in its
diffusion, and was distinguished for his
extensive knowledge of the gospel.
When he found that he was likely to
suffer for the sake of Christ, he publicly
recanted; and soon after being seized
with illness, and having the prospect of
death before him, he was visited by
Beveral eminent Christians, who con-

versed and prayed with him, but with-
out avail. He died in a state of the
most awful despair, declaring the im-
possibility of his fnding mercy at the
hands of God.
(6) THE APOSTATE BURNED.
-—Richard Denton, a blacksmith, re-
siding in Cambridgeshire, was a profes-
sor of religion, and the means of con-
verting the martyr William VVoolsey.
When told by that holy man that he
wondered he had not followed him to
prison, Denton replied, that he could
not burn in the cause of Christ. Not
long after, his house being on fire, he
ran in to save some of his goods, and
was burnt to death.
(f) CRANMER’S UNVVORTHY
HAND.—In the bloody reign of Queen
Mary of England, Archbishop Cran-
mer became obnoxious to her persecuting
spirit. She was determined to bring
him to the stake ; but previously em-
ployed emissaries to persuade him, by
means of flattery and false promises, to
renounce his faith. The good man was
overcome, and subscribed to the errors
of the Church of Rome. His conscience
smote him; he returned to his former
persuasion; and, when brought to the
stake, he stretched forth the hand that
had made the unhappy signature, and
held it in the flames till it was en-
tirely consumed, frequently exclaiming,
“That unworthy hand:” after which
he patiently suffered martyrdom, and
ascended to receive its reward.
(g) APOSTACY DESTROYS THE
CONFIDENCE OF IVORLDLY
MEN .-—It is well known that Freder-
iek the Great took pride in having his
soldiers well disciplined ; and was there-
fore particularly attentive to the con-
duct of the subalterns. It is perhaps
not so well known, that he sometimes
manifested a real respect for religious
people ; for few men could more clear-
ly discern the excellence of the conduct
produced by holy principles. VVhile,
therefore, he sneered at Christianity, he
sometimes promoted to oflices of trust
those who consistently maintained it.
A sergeant, of the name of Thomas,
who was very successful in training
his men, and whose whole deportment
pleased the king, was often noticed by
5'7
26
APOSTACY.
_.—‘_'i_-'-_-
him. He inquired respecting the place
of the sergeant’s birth, his parents, his
religious creed, and the place of wor.-
ship which he frequented. On being
informed that he was united with the
Moravians, and attended their chapel
in William-street, he exclaimed, “ Oh!
Oh! you are a fanatic, are you’.2 Well,
well; only take care to do your duty,
and improve your men.”
The king's common salutation after
this, was, “ VVell, how do you do? how
are you going on in I/Villiam-street '2”
His majesty at length, in conversation
with Thomas’s colonel, mentioned his
intention of promoting the sergeant to
an office in the commissariat depart-
ment, upon the death of an aged man
who then filled it.
The colonel, in order to encourage
Thomas, told him of the king’s design.
Unhappily this had an injurious effect
upon the mind of the sergeant; for,
alas! such is the depravity of the hu-
man heart, that few can endure the
temptation of prosperity without sus-
taining spiritual loss. Thomas began
o forsake the assemblies of his Christian
Jrethren; and when reproved by his
minister, he said, “his heart was with
nim, but he was afraid of offending the
king.” The minister told him to take
good heed that his heart did not deceive
him. Soon after the sergeant’s religious
declension, he was again accosted by
the king, with “ Well, how do you do?
how are your friends in William-
street?” “I do not know, please your
majesty,” was the reply. “ Not know !
not know!” answered the king; “ have
you been ill '2” “ No, please your ma-
jesty,” rejoined the sergeant; “ but I
do not see it necessary to attend there
so often as I used to do.” “Then you
are not so great a fanatic as I thought
you ;” was the royal answer.
In a short time the aged officer died,
and the colonel waited upon his majesty
to inform him of the vacancy, and to
remind him of his intention to raise ser-
eant Thomas to the situation. “ No,
no !” said the king, “ he shall not have
it; he does not go so often to Wil-
liam-street as he used to do.” Surprised
with this peremptory refusal, the colonel
withdraw, and on his return found his
_.
u-_
sergeant waiting for the confirmation
of his appointment. “I do not know
what is the matter with the king to-
day,” said the eononel, “ but he will
not give you the situation. He says
you do not go so often to William-street
as you used to do. 1 do 11ot know what
he means; but I suppose you do."
Struck in a moment with the awful
impropriety ofhis conduct, he bowed to
the colonel, and departed to humble
himself before God. He ever after
adored the Divine mercy, which did not
leave him fully to realize the Scriptural
threatening, “The prosperity of fools
shall destroy them.” -
(h) A BACKSLIDER’S VVRETCH-
EDNESS.—Dr. Doddridge was once
preaching on the calling and the glorious
hopes of the Christian. One of his
hearers, after the sermon, adoressed him
in the following terms: “You have
made an excellent and encouraging dis-
course ; but these privileges do not be-
long to me, nor shall I ever have the
least interest in them.” “What reason
have you for so saying '2” asked the
doctor; “Jesus is able to save to the
uttermost.” “I will tell you my cir-
cumstances,” the man replied, “and
then you will not be surprised. I once
made a profession of religion, which I
supported with great regularity and de-
corum for several years. Iwas very
strict in the performance of the duties
required by the Christian system. None
could charge me with immorality of
conduct, or the neglect of positive com-
mands; but in the course of time my
zeal departed from me, and I became
careless and remiss in my walk and
conversation. I felt no satisfaction aris-
ing from the performance of spiritual
duties, and gradually declined my cus-
tomary observance of them. Instead
of praying twice or thrice a day, I only
prayeo once ; the same with respect to
family religion; and at last these sa-
cred engagements were entirely omitted,
which soon discovered itself by my out-
ward conduct. Ungodly company, and
the gratification of sense, became my
only enjoyments, in which I could in-
dulge free from those strong convictions
of guilt and dreadful apprehension of
future misery, which retirement anc
58
APPLAUSE.
—
calm reflection impose upon the mind.
Soon after this change took place, I was
left guardian to a young lady, whose
fortune Was committed to my care; but
I expended her money, and ruined her
reputation. Still I was sensible how
far preferable a virtuous life was to a
Wicked one, and I was careful to in-
struct my children in the principles of
religion. When I returned, one evening,
from my sinful pursuits, I asked them,
as usual, if they could repeat their les-
son. ‘Yes,’ said the youngest,-‘ and I
have a lesson for you too, papa ;’ she
then read Ezek. xxiv. 13:-—‘ Because
I have purged thee, and thou wast not
purged, thou shalt not be purged from
thy filthiness any more, till I have
caused my fury to rest upon thee.’ This
I considered was to seal my doom, and
I now have nothing but a fearful looking
for of judgment.”
(i) SECURITY AGAINST APOS-
TACY.——“I well remember,” says an
eminent minister in North Wales, “that
when the Spirit of God first convinced
me of my sin, guilt, and danger, and of
the many difficulties and enemies I must
encounter, if ever I intended setting out
for heaven, I was often to the last degree
frightened ; the prospect of those many
strong temptations and vain allurements
to which my youthful years would una-

96,27
voidably expose me, greatly disco urageci
me. And I often used to tell an aged
soldier of Christ, the first and only
Christian friend I had any acquaintance
with for several years, that I Wished I
had borne the burden and heat of the
day like him. His usual reply was-
‘That so long as I feared, and was
humbly dependent upon God, I should
never fall, but certainly prevail.’ I
have found it so. O, blessed be the
Lord, that I can now raise up my Ebe-
nezer, and say, ‘ Hitherto hath the Lord
upheld me.’”
FIVE YEARS OF MISERY.-—
It is said of a Mr. G., that he lay lan-
guishing in distress of mind for five
years,—during which he took no com-
fort in meat or drink, nor any pleasure
in life ; being under a sense of backsli-
ding, he was distressed as if he had
been in the pit of hell. If he ate his
food, it was not from any appetite, but
with a view to defer his damnation,
thinking within himself that he must
needs be lost so soon as his breath was
out of his body. Yet, after all this, he
was set at liberty, received great conso-
lation, and afterwards lived altogethera
heavenly life. Let not the tempted be-
liever then despond, nor the returning
backslider fear lest he should be re-
jected.
27. APPLAUSE.
(a) A CLERGYMAN’S DREAM.
The Imperial Magazine contains an
account of a remarkable dream related
by Rev. R. Bowden, of Darwen, in
England, who committed it to writing
from the lips of the clergyman to whom
it happened. The dream suggests a
most solemn and affecting admonition.
A minister of evangelical principles,
whose name, from the circumstances
that occurred, it will be necessary to
conceal, being much fatigued at the con-
clusion of the afternoon service, retired
to his apartment in order to take a little
rest. He had not long reclined upon
his couch before he fell asleep and began
to dream. He dreamed that on walking
into his garden, he entered a bower that

had been erected in it, where he sat
down to read and meditate. VVhile thus
employed he thought he heard some one
enter the garden ; and leaving his bow-
er, he immediately hastened toward the
spot whence the sound seemed to come,
in order to discover who it was that had
entered. He had not proceeded far be-
fore he observed a particular friend of
his, a clergyman of considerable talents,
who had rendered himself very popular
by his zealous and unwearied exertions
in the cause of Christ. On approach-
ing his friend, he was surprised to find
that his countenance was covered with
a gloom which it had not been accus-
tomed to wear, and that i. strongly in-
dicated a violent agitation of mind ap-
59
87,28
ATONEMENT.
parently arising from conscious remorse.
After the usual salutations had passed,
his friend asked the relator the time of
the day ; to which he replied, “ Twen-
ty-five minutes after four.” On hearing
this, the stranger said, “ It is only one
hour since I died, and now I am damn-
ed " “ Damned I for what ?” inquired
the mmister. “ It is not,” said he,
“ because I have not preached the gos-
pel. neither is it because I have not been
rendered useful, for I have many souls
as seals to my ministry, who can bear
testimony to the truth as it is in Jesus,
which they have received from my lips ;
but it is because I have been seeking
the applause of men more than the honor
which eometh from above, and verily, I
have my reward I” Having uttered
hese expressions he hastily disappeared,
and was seen no more.
The minister awaking shortly after-
ward, with the dream deeply graven on
his memory, proceeded, overwhelmed
with serious reflections, towards his

wry
chapel, in order to conduct his evening
service. On his way thither he was
accosted by a friend, who inquired
whether he had heard of the severe loss
the church had sustained in the death
of their able minister. He replied,
“ N o ;” but being much affected at this
singular intelligence, he inquired of him
the day and the time of the day when
his departure took place. To this his
friend replied, “ This afternoon, at
twenty-five minutes after three o’clock.”
(Z2) PARMENIDES’ AUDIENCE.
——To a really wise man; the well
weighed approbation of a single judi-
cious character gives more heartfelt sat-
isfaction than all the noisy applauses of
ten thousand ignorant though enthusias-
tic admirers. Parmenides, upon read-
ing a philosophical discourse before a
public assembly at Athens, and observ-
ing that, except Plato, the whole compa-
ny had left him, continued, notwith-
standing, to read on, and said that Plato
alone was audience sufficient far him.
28. ATONEMEN T.
(a) ATONEMENT FUNDAMEN-
TAL.-—The late Thomas, Earl of Kin-
noul, a short time before his death, in a
long and serious conversation with the
Rev. Dr. Kemp, of Edinburgh, thus
expressed himself :—“ I have always
considered the atonement the characteris-
tic of the gospel ; as asystem of religion,
strip it of that doctrine, and you reduce
it to a scheme of morality, excellent,
indeed, and such as the world never
saw; but, to man, in the present state
of his faculties, absolutely impractica-
ble.
“ The atonement of Christ, and the
truths immediately connected with that
fundamental principle, provide a reme-
dy for all the wants and weaknesses of
em nature. Those who strive to re-
move those precious doctrines from the
word of God, do an irreparable injury
to the grand and beautiful system of re-
ligion which it contains, as well as to
the comforts and hopes of man. For
my own part, I am now an old man, and
have experienced the infirmities of ad-

vanced years. Of late, in the course
of a severe and dangerous illness, I have
been repeatedly brought to the gates of
death. My time in this world cannot
now be long, but with truth I can de-
clare that, in the midst of all my past
afliictions, my heart was supported and
comforted by a firm reliance upon the
merits and atonement of my Savior;
and now, in the prospect of entering
upon an eternal world, this is the only
foundation of my confidence and hope.”
(Z2) “ THIS IS WHATI WANT.’
—-A certain man, on the Malabar coast
had inquired of various devotees ann
priests, how he might make atonement
for his sins; and he was directed to
drive iron spikes, sufficiently blunted,
through his sandals; and on these
spikes, he was directed to place his na-
ked feet, and to walk about four hun-
dred and eighty miles. If through loss
of blood, or weakness of body, he was
obliged to halt, he might wait fhr heal-
ing and strength. He undertook the
journey, and while he halted under a
60
ATONEMENT.
28
large shady tree, where the gospel was
sometimes preached, one of the mission-
aries came and preached in his hearing
from these words, “ The blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth from all sin.” While
he was preaching, the man rose up,
threw off his torturing sandals, and cried
out aloud, “ This is what I want ;” and
he became a lively witness, that the
blood of Jesus Clirist does cleanse from
all sin indeed.
(c) DOCTRINE FIT FOR OLD
WOMEN.—The first sermon preached
by the late Rev. Robert Hall at Cam-
bridge, after he had become the pastor
of the congregation there, was on the doc-
trine of the atonement, and its practical
tendencies. One of the congregation,
who had embraced very erroneous views
ofthe gospel, said to him, “ Mr. Hall,this
preaching won’t do for us, it will only
suit a congregation of old women.”
“ Do you mean my sermon, sir; or the
doctrine Z” “Your doctrine.” “ Why
is it that the doctrine is fit only for old
women '5” “ Because it may suit the
musings of people tottering upon the
brink of the grave, and who are eager-
ly seeking comfort.” “ Thank you,
sir ; for your concession. The doctrine
will not suit people of any age, unless
it be true; and, if it be true, it is not
fitted for old women alone, butis equal-
ly important at every age.” '
(ti) GOD’S LOVE WONDERFUL.
-—A missionary, addressing a pious ne-
gre woman, said, “ Mary, is not the love
of God wonderful '2” and then enlarging
on its manifestation in the atonement of
Christ, he made the appeal, “ Is it not
wonderful?” Mary simply, but we
may add, sublimely, replied, “ Massa,
massa, me no tink it so wonderful,
’cause it is just like Him.”
(A) THE SCHOLAR’S COMFORT.
--“I have taken much pains,” says the
learned Selden, “ to know every thing
that was esteemed worth knowing
amongst men ; but with all my disquisi-
tions and reading, nothing new remains
with me to comfort me, at the close of
life, but this passage of St. Paul, ‘It is
a faithful saying, and worthy of all ac-
ceptation, that Jesus Christ came into
the world to save sinners :’ to this I
cleave, and hereinl find rest.”

(f) COMMITTING A MILLION
SOULS TO CHRIST.—Rev. Mr. H.
was for many years co-pastor with the
Rev. Matthew Wilks, of the congrega-
tions at the Tabernacle and Tottenham-
court chapel, London. His venerable
colleague, who called upon him a few
hours before his death, in a characteris-
tic conversation, said, “ Is all right for
another world '2”
“I am very happy,” said Mr. H.
“ Have you made your will '2”
Mistaking the question——“ The will
of the Lord be done,” sail the dying
Christian.
“ Shall I pray with you ?”
“Yes, if you can '” alluding to Mr.
WVilks’s feelings, at t. at moment con-
siderably excited.
After prayer, “ \Vell, my brother, if
you had a hundred souls, could you
commit them all to Christ now ?” allud-
ing to an expression Mr. H. frequently
used in the pulpit.
1With a mighty and convulsive effort,
he replied, “ A million!”
(e) cowrnws EXPERIENCE.-
Cowper, the poet, speaking of his reli-
gious experience, says : “ But the happy
period which was to shake off my fetters
and afford me a clear opening of the
free mercy of God in Christ Jesus, was
now arrived. I flung myself into a
chair near the window, and seeing a
Bible there, ventured once more to apply
to it for comfort and instruction. The
first verse I saw was the 25th of the
third of Romans ; ‘ \Vhom God hath set
forth to be a propitiation through faith
in his blood, to declare his righteousness
for the remission of sins that are past,
through the forbearance of God.’ Im-
mediately I received strength to believe.
and the full beams of the Sun of Righte-
ousness shone upon me. I saw the suf-
ficiency of the atonement he had made,
my pardon sealed in his blood, and all
the fulness and completeness of his jus-
tification. In a moment I believed and
received the gospel.”
(h) DES BARREAUX’S POEM.-—
Des Barreaux, a foreigner of eminent
station, had been a great profligate, and
afterwards became a great penitent.
He composed a piece of poetry after his
conversion, the leading sentiment of
61
es, 29
AVARICE.
which was to the following effect :—-
“ Great God, thy judgments are full of
righteousness ; thou takest pleasure in
the exercise of mercy: but I have sin-
ned to such a height that justice de-
mands my destruction, and mercy itself
seems to solicit my perdition. Disdain
my tears, strike the blow, and execute
thy judgments. I am willing to submit
and adore, even in perishing, the equity
of thy procedure. But on what place
will the stroke fall that is not covered
with the blood of Christ '2”
(i) REV. MR. INNES AND THE
INFlDEL.——In a conversation which
the Rev. Mr. Innes had with an infidel
on his sick-bed, he told him that when
he was taken ill he thought he would
rely on the general mercy of God ; that
as he had never done any thing very
bad, he hoped all would be well. “ But
as my weakness increased,” he added,

_‘
“ I began to think, is not God a just be-
ing, as well as merciful’.Z Now what
reason have I to think he will treat me
with mercy and not with justice? and
if I am treated with justice,” he said.
with much emotion, “WHERE AM I?”
“I showed him,” says Mr. Innes,
“that this was the very dg'flio-ulty the
gospel was sent to remove, as it showed
how mercy could be exercised in perfect
consistency with the strictest demands
of justice, while it was bestowed through
the atonement made by Jesus Christ.
After explaining this doctrine and press-
ing it on his attention and acceptance,
one of the last things he said to me be-
fore leaving him, was, “ I/Vell, I believe
it must come to this. I confess I see
here a solid footing to rest on, which,
on my former principles I could never
find?’
29. AVARICE.
(a) A MOTHER MURDERING
HER SON.-—-Two young men of Vir-
gmia, who served in the American army
during the war, having regularly got
their discharge, went home to their
friends. One had only a mother living
when he left home ; when they had get
near home, they fell into a conversation
on the length of time they had been
away, and concluded to try whether
their parents would know them; with
this impression, each took the nearest
path home. The one who had only a
mother, came in; and, finding his mother
did not know him, he asked for lodging ;
to whom she replied, she could not lodge
him; that there was a tavern not far
from the place where he might get lodg-
ing, &c. He importuned, but she re-
fused, till at last he told her he had a
little money, and he was afraid to lodge
in a tavern, lest some person should rob
him. He took out his purse and offered
it to her keeping. She, struck with the
mamrnon, consented immediately to his
staying; accordingly he did, had sup-
per, and still never discovered himself
to his mother or any of the family. He
was directed to a bed once more in the

chamber of her who conceived .. m.
How safe he must have thought himself
then, compared to the field of battle.
But she summoned a negro man, told
him the scheme she had planned, hired
him to aid her to the stranger’s apart-
ment, where they murdered him in his
bed. Next day his fellow-soldier came
to see his friend; but, on asking for the
stranger, could hear nothing of him. He
thought it was a trick to plague him,
that the old woman denied it, till, hear-
ing her affirm that no stranger had come
there the last evening, nor any man, he
asked her if she had not a son who went
to the war. She said she had. “ VVell,”
said he, “ I left him within a few miles
of this house last evening, and he came
here ; and he told me he would not
make himself known to you, to see if
you had forgotten his looks. He must
be here.” The cruel mother fainted
at the sentence, confessed her wicked-
ness, and showed her murdered son,
crammed in a closet of the house I!
Oh, the love of money, what has it not
done ; what will it yet do!
(Z2) THE RICH MAN ’S VICTORY.
—“I could mention the name of a late
62
AVARICE .
_—-_ -.
29
very opulent and very valuable person,”
says a writer in the Gospel Magazine,
“who, though naturally avaricious in
the extreme, was liberal and beneficent
to a proverb. He was aware of his con-
stitutional sin, and God gave him victory
over it, by enabling him to run away
from it. Lest the dormant love of mo-
ney should awake and stir in his heart,
he would not, for‘ many years before his
death, trust himself with the sight of his
revenues. He kept, indeed, his accounts
as clearly and exactly as any man in
the world; but he dared not receive,
because he dared not look at that gold,
which he feared would prove a snare to
us affections. His stewards received
all, and retained all in their own hands
ill they received orders how to dispose
cf it.”
(0) A LARGE OFFER FOR A
FORTNIGHT.-—-A person who pos-
sessed a speculative acquaintance with
divine truth, had, by unremitting indus-
try, and carefully watching every op-
portunity of increasing his wealth, ac-
cumulated the sum of twenty-five thou-
sand pounds. But alas ! he became
engrossed and entangled with the world,
and to its acquisitions he appears to have
sacrificed infinitely higher interests. A
dangerous sickness, that brought death
near to his view, awakened his fears.
Conscience reminded him of his neglect
of eternal concerns, and filled him with
awful forebodings of future misery.
A little before he expired he was heard
to say, “ My possessions amount to
twenty-five thousand pounds. One half
of this my property I would give, so
that I might live one fortnight longer, to
repent and seek salvation.”
((1) THE MERCHANT AND THE
PEASANT.-—A peasant once entered
the hall of justice at Florence, at the
time that Alexander, duke of Tuscany,
was presiding. He stated that he had
the good fortune to find a purse of sixty
ducats; and learning that it belonged
to Friuli the merchant, who offered a
reward of ten ducats to the finder, he
restored it to him, but that he had re-
fused the promised reward. The duke
instantly ordered Friuli to be summon-
ed into his presence, and questioned why
he refused the reward. The merchant

_

replied, “ that he conceived the peasant
had paid himself; for although, when
he gave notice of his loss, he said this
purse only contained sixty ducats, it in
fact had seventy in it.” The duke in-
quired if this mistake was discovered
before the purse was found. F riuli
answered in the negative. “ Then,"
said the duke, “ as I have a very high
opinion of the honesty of this peasant,
I am induced to believe that there is in-
deed a mistake in this transaction; for
as the purse you lost had in it seventy
ducats, and this which he found contains
sixty only, it is impossible that it can be
the same.” He then gave the purse to
the peasant, and promised to protect him
against all future claimants.
(e) SEVERAL AVARICIOUS
CHARACTERS.—-The greatest en-
dowments of the mind, the greatest
abilities in a profession, and even the
quiet possession of an immense treasure,
will never prevail against avarice. My
Lord Chancellor Hardwick, says Dr.
King, when worth eight hundred thou-
sand pounds, set the same value on half
a crown then as when he was worth
only one hundred pounds. That great
captain, the Duke of Marlborough, when
he was in the last stage of life and very
infirm,would walk from the public rooms
in Bath to his lodgings, in a cold, dark
night, to save sixpence in chair-hire.
He died worth more than a million and
a half sterling, which was inherited by
a grandson of Lord Trevor’s, who had
been one of his enemies. Sir James
Lowther, after changing a piece of sil-
ver, and paying twopence for a dish of
coffee in George’s cofl‘ee-house, was
helped into his chariot (for he was then
very lame and infirm), and went home ;
some little time after he returned to the
same coffee-house on purpose to acquaint
the woman who kept it that she had
given him a bad halfpenny, and de-
manded another in exchange for it. Sir
James had about forty thousand pounds
per annum, and was at less whom to
appoint his heir. I knew one Sir
Thomas Colby, who lived at Kensing
ton, and was, I think, a commissioner
in the victualling office; he killed him-
self by rising in the night when he
was under the effect of a sudorific, and
63
29
AVARICE.
--__ -I-.-__

going down stairs to look for the key of
his cellar, which he had inadvertently
left on a table in his parlor; he was
apprehensive his servants might seize the
key and deprive him of a bottle of wine.
This man died intestate, and left more
than two hundred thousands pounds in
the funds, which was shared among five
or six-day laborers, who were his nearest
relativ es.
A POOR GUARD.-— A court-
ier busily occupied in ministerial em-
ployments, and a member of the cham-
ber of deputies, received from one of
“ our excellencies ” some secret in-
struction with regard to certain parlia-
mentary consciences, which it was
thought might be easily purchased.
The minister happened to mention the
name of Mr. X “ Oh, as to that
one,” hastily interrupted the political
Mercury, I cannot answer for him. I
have already sounded him, and he
seems to be inaccessible.”
“But did you try it with a good bank
note in hand ?”
“ He is said to be wholly incorrupti-
ble.”
“ Agreed——but a good sum ”-—
“ He is conscientious—-is virtuous.”
“ But he loves money very much. I
am assured that he is avaricious.”
“ That is true.”
“ Very well——very well, my dear sir.
Keep on—-follow him up. When virtue
is guarded by vice, it is easy to corrupt
the sentinel.”
(g) THE JEWISH MOTHER.--One
of the nights when Mrs. Siddons first per-
formed at Drury Lane, a Jew boy, in
his eagerness to get the first row in the
shilling gallery, fell over into the pit,
and was dangerously hurt. The manager
of the theatre ordered the lad to be
conveyed to a lodging, where he was
attended by their own physician ; but,
notwithstanding all their attention, he
died, and was decently buried, at the
expense of the theatre. The mother
came to the play-house to thank the
managers, and they gave her his clothes
and five guineas, for which she returned
a courtesy, but, with some hesitation, ad-
ded that they had forgotten to return her
the shilling which Abraham had paid
for coming in I

(it) THE MISER IN THE INELL.
——An old bachelor, possessed of a for-
tune of $50,000, meeting a friend om=
day began to harangue him verylearn
edly upon the detestable sin of avarice,
and gave the following instance of it:
“ About three years ago,” said he, “by
a very odd accident I fell into a well,
and was absolutely within a very few
minutes of perishing before I could pre-
vail upon an unconscious dog of a labor-
er, who happened to be within hearing
of my cries, to help me out for a shil-
ling. The fellow was so rapacious as
to insist upon having twenty-five cents,
for above a quarter of an hour, and I
verily believe he would not have abated
me a single farthing if he had not seen
me at the last gasp ; and I determined
rather to die than submit to his extor-
tion I”
(i) A LITTLE MORE.—-“ When I
was a lad,” says one, “ an old gentle-
man took some trouble to teach me some
little knowledge of the world. \Vith
this view I remember he once asked me
when a man was rich enough? I re-
plied, when he has a thousand pounds.
He said, No.—-Two thousand ? N o.--
Ten thousand? No.——Twenty thousand’.Z
No.——A hundred thousand? which I
thought would settle the business; but
he still continuing to say No, I gave it
up, and confessed I could not tell, but
begged he would inform me. He
gravely said, YVhen he has a little more
than he has, and that is never! If he
acquires one thousand, he wishes to have
two thousand ; then five, then ten, then
twenty, then fifty; from that his riches
would amount to a hundred thousand,
and so on till he had grasped the whole
world ; after which he would look
about him, like Alexander, for other
worlds to possess.”
THE LONG CREDIT.--A
wealthy but niggardly gentleman was
waited on by the advocates of a chari-
table institution, for which they solicited
his aid, reminding him of the Divine
declaration, Prov. xix. 17, “He that
hath pity on the poor, lendeth unto the
Lord; and that which he hath'given
will he pay him again.” To this he
profanely replied, “ The security, no
doubt, is good, and the interest liberal
64
BALLS, &.<;.--INCUMPATIBLE W1 PH PRAYER.
29, 30

W-.-
but I cannot give such long credit.”
Poor rich man! the day of payment
was much nearer than he anticipated.
Not a fortnight had elapsed from his
refusing to honor this claim of God
upon his substance, before he received a
summons with which he could not re-
fuse to comply. It was, “ This night
thy soul shall be required of thee ; then
whose shall those things be which thou
hast rovided '2”
(Ir) THE BROKEN VOW.—Some
years ago, a poor lad came to London,
in search of a situation as errand-boy ;
he made many unsuccessful applica-
tions, and was on the eve of returning
to his parents, when agentleman, being
prepossessed by his appearance, took
him into his employment, and after a
few months, bound him apprentice. He
so conducted himself during his appren-
ticeship, as to gain the esteem of every
one who knew him; and after he had
served his time, his master advanced a
capital for him to commence business.
He retired to his closet with a heart glow-
ing with gratitude to his Maker for his
goodness, and there solemnly vowed that
he would devote a tenth part of his an-
nual income to the service of God.
The first year his donation amounted
to ten pounds, which he gave cheerfully,
and continued to do so till it amounted
to 500Z. He then thought that was a
great deal of money to give, and that
he need not be so particular as to the
exact amount: that year he lost a ship
an-i cargo to the value of 15,0001. by a
storm ! This caused him to repent, and
he again commenced his contributions

with a resolution never to retract; he
was more successful every year, and at
length retired. He then devoted a tenth
part of his annual income for several
years, till he became acquainted with
a party of worldly men, who by degrees
drew him aside from God: he discon-
tinued his donations, made large specu-
lations, lost every thing, and became al-
most as poor as when he first arrived
in London as an errand-boy. “There
is, ” saith Solomon, “ that scattereth, and
yet increaseth; and there is that with-
holdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth
to poverty. ”
(Z) “ GIVE ME MY PORTION
HERE.’ ’-—A merchant of , en-
gaged in a lucrative trade, was con-
vinced by the Spirit of God that he was
an heir of hell, but might, by repentance
and faith in Jesus Christ, become an heir
of heaven. The “god of this world”
tempted him with much earthly gain,
and God, in the person of the Holy
Ghost, offered him durable riches and
righteousness. He was fully convinced,
as he said, that the riches of earth and
the riches of heaven were set before
him, and that he could not obtain both,
but might have his choice. He glanced
at heaven’s durable riches, and then
settled his covetous gaze upon earth’s
glittering gold. He paused, feeling his
choice was for eternity, but strangely,
madly said, “ Give me my portion
here.” His prayer was answered. His
riches were multiplied. But, said he,
“I know that to gain the world, I have
lost my soul.”

BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES.
30. They are Incompatible with Prayer.
(a) THE BALL AND THE MIN-
lSTER.—A pastor was in the frequent
habit, during the tours he made in his
extensive parish, of stopping for the
night in a village inn, and continued his
journey the next day. On one occasion
he found the principal apartment con-
verted into a ball-room. The host apol-
ogized for his not being able to accom-

modate him as comfortably as usual;
but the pastor, Without being discon-
certed, asked him to have his supper
served to him in a corner of the room.
\Vhen it was ready, he begged the as-
sembly to grant him a few moments
silence, that he might, according to his
practice, make an audible prayer before
partaking of the meal. He accordingly
commenced praying, but before he had
finished, the dancers had disappeared.
30
BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES.
_--—-\qp_— .__

(b) THE DEVIL CHEATED.—-
“Father Hull,” now deceased, was a
preacher of the old school, S. C. Confer-
ence. Passing along the highway one
evening, in a strange, wicked country,
he called at a good looking house for
1odgings. \Veary and faint, he sat him
down by the fireside. After a while,
as night began to close in, companies of
well-dressed gentlemen and ladies flock-
ed into his room. One drew out his vio-
lin and commenced playing. Away
scampered the youngsters, hopping and
leaping. It was “ a ball I” Here sat
the stranger looking silently.on. At
length a partner was wanted, and one
ventured up and asked Mr. Hull if he
would take the floor. “Certainly,
madam I” said he, rising and walk-
ing out on the floor as he spoke;
“ but I have long made it a rule never
to commence any business till I have
asked the direction of the Lord, and his
blessing upon it. \Vill you all join in
prayer with me '2” As he spoke these
words, he fell on his knees and began to
pray. Some kneeled, others stood, all
petrified with astonishment. In the
mean time, being a holy, faithful man,
and peculiarly powerful in prayer, he
seemed to draw the very heavens and
earth together. Some groaned, some
shrieked aloud, and many fell prostrate,
like dead men, on the fioor. Truly the
place was sweet and awful on account
of the divine presence. In short, the
dance was turned into a religious meet-
ing, from which many dated their con-
viction and conversion, and the com-
mencement of a powerful revival. “ Be-
hold what a great matter a little fire
kindleth I” O, had we more faith and
intrepidity, what good we might do!
How glorious to attack and drive the
devil from lzis own strong holds.
(c) PRAYER AT A PUBLIC
DANCE.—-Though somewhat eccentric
in his manners, Mr. Byne was never-
theless a fearless and faithful servant of
the Lord. N ot long after he joined the
church, he was invited by some of his
former companions in sin to attend a
dancing party, which he agreed to do
on condition, expressly understood, that
he should give direction to all the excr-
ises of the evening. ‘When the cor‘.-

pany had collected, (among whom were
Mr. Byne and his wife,) a young lady
stepped forward and invited the preacher
to dance. He accepted her imitation
so far as to walk out on the floor with
her, when the violin struck up a lively
air. Mr. Byne claimed his right to
give directions, sung a spiritual song, in
which he was joined by several of the
party—-kneeled down and‘offered up a
fervent and affecting prayer. By the
time he concluded his second spiritual
song, tears were overflowing from many
eyes--the dance was converted into a
prayer-meeting, and this was the last
frolic ever attempted to be held at that
house.
(al) THE METHODIST AND THE
DINNER PARTY.—In the district
which I once travelled, says a writer in
the Christian Advocate, on Easter Mon-
day, 1825, a gentleman invited a num-
ber of his neighbors to dine with him;
and among the rest a good Methodist
lady was invited. She accepted the
invitation, and attended, without the
most distant thought that any thing con-
trary to her profession would be intro-
duced. In this, however, she was dis-
appointed. For, after dinner, the fiddle
was brought in; the company rose to
play and amuse themselves by dancing.
At length one, with a spirit more daring
than the rest, approached her, and asked
her to dance. Without a verbal reply,
she rose from her seat and accompanied
him on the floor. The company was
arranged, the fiddler sitting with lifted
heel and elbow sprung, and no doubt,
the devil laughing in his sleeve, and
saying, “ Another Methodist safe in my
trap.” But the good angel whispered,
“ Not yet, sir.” She paused, and then
said, “It is my custom to sing some
first ;” and standing there, she gave
out some verse and sang. She then
said, “It is my custom to pray some
first,” and dropped upon her knees and
prayed; and no doubt her prayer was
the legitimate offspring of a warm heart. '
Some of the company remained, some
ran away, and some trembled and wept.
The dance was broken up, the fiddler
disappointed, the devil defeated, and the
good Methodist lady victorious.
66

(6) THE YOUNG CONVERT’S
PRAYER IN THE BALL/-ROOM.-—
In one of the interior counties of Penn-
sylvania a young man whom, for the
sake of distinction, we shall call B ,
was convicted of sin and led to inquire
anxiously the way t) be saved. He
was the son of one of the most res-
pectable and wealthy inhabitants of that
region of country, but his father was
unhappily a bitter opposer of the religion
of Christ. Perceiving the. state of his
son’s mind, he determined to leave no
means untried to divert his mind from
the subject. He hurried him from
business to pleasure, and from pleasure
to business, with strong hopes that his
serious impressions might be driven
away, or, at least, that he might be pre-
vented making any public profession of
the change of his views. But all these
efforts were vain. The Spirit of God
had laid hold on his soul, and did not
desert him. He was brought to the
dust in submission, and found peace in
believing in Christ.
About this time a splendid ball was
get up, with every possible attempt at
display, and the youth of the village
and surrounding country were all ex-
citement for the festive hall. B
was invited. He at once declined at-
tending, but his father insisted that he
should go. Here was a struggle for the
young convert. On the one hand were
the convictions of his own conscience,
as well as the desires of his heart. On
the other, the command of a father whom
he was still bound to obey. The strug-
gle was long and anxious. At length it
was decided—/te determined to go. His
father rejoiced at his decision. His
friends congratulated him on having
abandoned his new notions and become
a man again.
The evening at last arrived. The
gay party were gathered in the spa-
cious hall. There was beauty, and
wealth, and fashion. The world was
there. Every heart seeemed full of
gladness, every voice was one of joy.
B appeared among the rest, with a
brew that spoke the purpose of a deter-
mined soul. He was the first on the
floor to lead off the dance. A cotillion
was formed, and as the circle stood in




—- ___._lp_—_.—
the centre of the room, with every eye
fixed on them, what was the astonish-
ment of the company when B raised
his hands and said, “LET US PRAY.”
The assembly was awe-struck. Not a
word was uttered. It was as silent as
the grave, while B poured out his
heart to God in behalf of his young
companions, his parents, and the place
in which they lived. YVith perfect
composure he concluded his prayer, and
all had left the room silently, but one. A
young lady whom he had led upon the
floor as his ggrtner, stood near him bathed
in tears. hey left the room together,
and not long afte wards, she was led to
the fbot of the cross, having been first
awakened by her partner’s prayer on
the ballroom floor. They were soon
married. and are still living, active, de-
voted members of the body of Christ.
B is an elder in one of the churches
near the city of N ew-York.

81. They Deaden Natural Sensibility.
(a) A CORPSE CARRIED TO A
BALL.—A writer in the N ew-York
Observer, states that in the place where
he resided. in 1840, there was a New
Year ball. Invitations were widely ex-
tended; and a great gathering of the
young, gay, and thoughtless, was anti-
cipated. Notwithstanding the intense
cold, many came from a great distance
in the country round. There was one
couple that set out for the ball, with
merry hearts, to ride some twenty miles.
The lady was young and gay, and her
charms of youth and beauty were never
lovelier than when dressed for that new-
year ball. Clad too thinly, of course.
for the season, and especially for that
dreadful day, she had not gone far be-
fore she complained of being cold, very
cold ; but their anxiety to reach the end
of the ride in time to be present at the
opening of the dance, induced them to
hurry on without stopping by the way.
N ot long after this complaining, she said
she felt perfectly comfortable, was now
quite warm. and that there was no ne-
cessity of delay on her account. They
reached at length the house where the
company was gathering : the young
man jumped from the sleigh and ex-
6
31, 32
BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES.
~-_-__-_’-_-

.ended his hand to assist her out; but
she did not offer hers. He spoke to her,
but she answered not. She was dead——
stone dead—frozen stiff—-a corpse on
the way to a ball!
But the most shocking part of the tale
remains to be told. THE BALL WENT
ON ! The dance was as gay, and the
music as merry, as if death had never
come to their door.
(Z2) THE CARD-PLAYERS AND
THEIR DEAD COMPANION.-—Dur-
ing the progress of a ball in one of the
towns of New Hampshire, four of the
young men retired to play cards.
VVhile at their game, one of their num-
ber fell down in a fit and expired. But
the others rolled his dead body under
the table, covered it up with cloaks,
and said nothing about it till the ball
was over. How do such amusements
petrify the better feelings, and make
man’s heart more hard than that of
some of the brutes! For some of the
brutes would have shown more sym-
pathy for a dying companion than was
exhibited in the case before us.
(0) DEATH BUT NO ADJOURN-
MENT.——A writer in the New-York
Observer says: In the village in which
I lived for many years, there was a
ball but a few steps from my house,
and one of the young ladies who was
to be there, died suddenly on the very
day of the ball. It was proposed by
one of the managers to postpone the
dance; but the others would not con-
sent; and on it went, although the
corpse lay directly in front of the ball-
room, and the dim light in the room
where it la could be seen by every
dancer, an the sound of the music
and dancing disturbed the melancholy
watchers. Who can doubt but that
such amusements blunt the finer senti-
ments of our nature, and weaken even
the humane feelings of their votaries,
to say nothing of their irreligious char-
acter and tendency’.2 Congress will
adjourn at the announcement of the
death of one of their number; but a
similar announcement procures not the
adjournment of a ball.
(d) DANCING DURING A MAS-
SACRE.—-The tragical scenes which
came under M r. Fisk’s obser "‘El.tl(i‘1 while

W ‘
in Greece, had become so common, that
they began to be regarded with indif-
ference by many classes of people.
Parties of pleasure and vain amuse-
ments were revived and engaged in, as
though all were peace. Thousands
had fled for their lives, and the streets
of Smyrna were crimsoned with Grecian
blood. It was estimated that 2000 had
been massacred, and heavy exactions
of money were demanded of others for
the privilege of living. The bodies of
the slain were frequently seen floating
in the bay. In a word, exactions, im-
prisonment, or death, met the defence-
less Greeks in every direction ;—-and
yet, strange to tell, multitudes, only be-
cause they were better protected from
Turkish violence, went thoughtlessly
to the assembly-room and the dance, as
though all were peace and security.
While the countenance of many gather-
ed blackness through fear, that of other:
exhibited only the expression of a
thoughtless, ill-timed levity.
(e) DANCING OVER A FLOOD.
—During the month of December, 1847,
in the great rise of the Ohio river, a
large portion of Cincinnati was over-
flowed by the water. Multitudes of the
inhabitants were driven from their houses
in the lower part of the city. Many
were subjected to great privations and
losses, and many lives lost. In the
midst of these scenes of extraordinary
and widespread wretchedness, Sheriff
Weaver, during his charitable tour
through the flooded portions of the city,
heard music proceeding from a house,
of which the upper story and roof only
were above the water, and several skiffs
were hitched to the windows. Upon
rowing up it was discovered that the
hall was in full blaze, and the waltz in
giddy whirl to merry music, male and
female participating. This jolly party
seemed unconscious of the danger that
threatened themselves, and indifferent
to the distress which surrounded them.
8%. They prevent Conversion and Ruin the
Soul.
(a)
THE INQUIRY MEETING
AND THE BALL-ROOM.--A most
interesting work of gr1ce onae occur
68
THEY PREVENT CONVERSION AND RUIN THE SOUL.


.__u-
32
red in the Houston-street Presbyterian
church, of the city of N ew-York. Many
anxiously inquired what they should do
to be saved. And many made choice
of that good part which shall never be
taken from them. Among the number
who sought the instruction and prayers
of the people of God, was the young
lady who is the subject of the following
sketch.
She listened to the voice of truth, and
was troubled. Conscience spoke within
her, and would not be utterly silenced.
She felt that the claims of God must
be met, that she must not delay the
work of her salvation. Personally and
solemnly was she urged to settle the
controversy, to renounce the pleasures
of sin, and trust in the merits of a cru-
cified Savior. She knew her duty, but
she did it not. The next night the
“Boz Ball” was to be held, and from
this scene of awful solemnity, away she
hurries to the chamber of mirth, and
joins in the giddy dance. By the sound
of the viol and the voice of melody she
aims to drown the admonitions of con-
science, and she may have succeeded
for the moment. Amid the display of
fashion, the glare of lights, and the in-
toxication of the scene, conscience may
have slumbered at her post, and suffered
the gay transgressor to revel undisturb-
ed in forbidden pleasure. But she
only seemed to sleep. The voice of ad-
monition and warning came—it came,
though the voice of the living preacher
Was silent. Again she felt, and again
is she seen in the meeting for conversa-
tion and prayer. Her heart is the seat
of ten thousand painful and conflicting
emotions. The claims of truth and duty
are urged. She would yield, she would
follow Jesus, but the world—the theatre
—-the ball-room—-her gay companions
--how can she give them up’.Z Unfor-
tunately she was solicited to attend
another ball. Satan, as an angel of light,
sheds a deceptive radiance over that
scene, and suggests that such amuse-
ments ans innocent, that her seriousness
is melancholy, that there is time enough
yet. She triumphed over conscience,
yielded to the temptation, and went.
She was permitted to return to
her dwe\ling, but only to die; to die,

too, as she had lived, without God or
hope.
Mark the facts that fill the last page
of her history. On one evening she is
in the meeting for inquiry, the next in
the ball-room, gayest among the gay,
and almost the next in her cqfin ! One
week, with a heart as light as air. she
goes to a store to purchase trimmings
for a ball dress; on the next, her
friends go to the same store to purchase
her shroud .'
Thus ended the career of one who
loved pleasure more than she loved
God. There was no hope in her death I
No light to cheer her in .he last sad
hour!
(b) LOSING THE SOUL FOR A
BALL.—I was once called, says a
venerable clergyman in B , to visit
a young lady, who was said to be in
despair. She had, at some time previ-
ous, been serious, and had, it was hoped,
resolutely set her face Zion-ward. In
an evil hour some of her former associ-
ates, gay, pleasure-loving young ladies,
called on her to accompany them to a
ball. She refused to go. The occasion,
the company, the parade and gayety
were all utterly dissonant with her pre-
sent feelings. With characteristic levity
and thoughtlessness, they urged her—-
ridiculed her “methodism,” railed at
the cant and hypocrisy of her spiritual
guides; and finally so far prevailed,
that with a desperate effort to shake off
her convictions and regain her former
carnal security, she exclaimed, “ IVeZl,
I will go I am damned for it.”
God took her at her word. The bless-
ed Spirit immediately withdrew His in-
fluences, and instead of the anxious sigh
and longing desire to be freed from the
body of sin and death, succeeded by
turns the calmness and horrors of ties-
pair.
The wretched victim knevar that the
Spirit had taken his final leave; no
compunctions for sin, no tears of peni-
tence, no inquiries after God, no eager
seeking of the “place where Christians
love to meet,” now occupied the tedious
hours.
Instead of the bloom and freshness of
health, there came the paieneos and
haggardness of decay. The wan and

69
32 '
BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANCES.
»—

__.-—
sunken check, the ghastly glaring eye,
the emaciated limb, the sure precursors
of approaching dissolution, were there.
The ctaresses of friends, the suggestions
of affection, all were unheeded. The
consolations of piety, the last resource
of the miserable, were to her but the
bitterness of death. In this state of
mind, I was called to visit her. VVhen
I entered the room where she was, and
beheld her pale and emaciated, and re-
flected that the ravages of her form with-
out but faintly shadowed forth the wreck
and desolation within, I was almost over-
powered. Never had I conceived so
vivid an idea of the wee and misery of
those who have “ quenched the Spirit.”
I proposed prayer. The word threw
her into an agony. She utterly refused.
N o entreaties of friends, no arguments
drawn from the love of God or from the
freeness and fullness of atoning blood,
could prevail to shake her resolution.
I left her without having been able to
find an avenue to her heart, or to dart a
ray of comfort into her dark bosom.
Never shall I forget the dreadful ex-
pression of that ghastly countenance-
the tones of that despairing voice. The
impression is as vivid as though it had
been but yesterday. O that all the
young, gay, thoughtless ones, who stifle
the convictions of conscience and repress
the rising sigh ; who dance along on the
brink of utter reprobation and despair,
would read and lay to heart the warning
which the last hours and death of this
young lady are calculated so forcibly to
make.
(0) THE FATAL BALL.--The
subject of the following narrative was
the idolized daughter of a gay and
worldly father, who, in spite of the tears
and expostulations of a pious mother, to
Whom such an act seemed little short of
sacrilege, led her to the altar of worldly
folly—the village dancing-school. She
soon excelled all competitors, and was
considered the unrivalled belle. At
this crisis her father died, and she lent
a willing ear to the explanations of di-
vine truth from her mother, which satis-
fied her understanding and filled her
heart with pure and holy emotions. She
was on the point of making a public
profession of her faith in Christ, when

the village in which she lived was agi
tated with preparations for a splendid
ball. The poor widow shuddered as she
witnessed the progress of this much
dreaded evil: to complete her uneasi-
ness, a brother of her husband, a man
of the world, visiting in the family, de-
clared that he would be at the expense
of equipping her daughter as his own
child, and that she should eclipse all the
women of rank and fashion in the ball-
room.
The poor girl was at first unwilling
to lend an ear to these follies; but she
had always delighted in dancing, and
on this occasion suffered her better judg-
ment to be overruled. “ ’Tis but for
once, mother,” said she, “ and to p.ease
my uncle—-nay, to avoid giving him in-
curable offence. Believe me, I shall
not suffer my head to be turned by one
night of gayety. Pray for me, mother,
that this compliance with the will of my
father’s brother may not produce evil
consequences.” “ My child,” said the
distressed mother, “I dare not so word
my supplication.
with your own will that you thus venture
on the tempter’s ground, and in this open
act of disobedience to your heavenly
Father, I cannot lend my aid to excuse
or extenuate your guilt. I have prayed,
I will still pray, that you may not ven-
ture farther in this matter; but if you
do, the responsibility must rest with
yourself.” “But, mother, the Scrip-
tures say themselves, ‘ there is a time to
dance.’ ” “ So they say, in the same
place, ‘there is a time to make war, and
a time to hate.’ The wise man means,
that all sins and follies will have their
seasons; but he does not therefore ad-
vocate sin and folly. Oh, beware, my
child, and let the same Scriptures teach
you, that ‘he who hardeneth his neck
under reproof shall be destroyed, and
that suddenly.’ These are fearful words
for us to part with, my child. Oh, heed
my reproof, and do not harden your
neck!” “ Mother,” said the perplexed
girl. “I have promised my uncle to go
to this unlucky ball, and I cannot break
my promise without incurring his re-
sentment. He has been so kind, that it
would be ungrateful to thwart him in
this trifle.” “Oh, my daughter,” said
It is in compliance‘
70
THEY PREVENT CON VERSION AND RUIN THE SOUL.
the widow, holding her hands to her
ears, “let me not hear you use such
awful language! Can it be you who
calls this sin a trifle’! Go, if you will ;
but make no more vain attempts to per-
Jert right reason, lest you add to your
>wn condemnation.”
It was indeed with reluctance that the
affectionate daughter left her mother,
under such circumstances; but she had
surrendered her better judgment for the
time, and created an imaginary neces-
sity, by which she suifered herself to
be controlled. Much admired, she was
so often solicited to dance that her
blood became painfully overheated ;
and finding the heat of the ball-room
too oppressive, her partner was conduct-
ing her into a little back porch. As
she swept rapidly along, panting with
heat, she encountered a servant enter-
ing with a pitcher of water, more than
half intoxicated, and as he staggered out
of her way, the contents of the pitcher
were discharged full in her panting and
overheated bosom. The sudden revul-
sion of physical feeling occasioned by
this accident, was almost instantly fatal.
A violent ague terminated in convul-
sions, and before the dawn of day this
lovely and interesting girl expired in
the arms of her almost distracted mother,
breathing with her last gasp the word
“ SUDDENLY !”
(cl) THE LAST CALL.—The Rev.
Mr. Clark states, that an acquaintance
of his was called on to attend a young
man’s funeral, of whom Mr. C. learned
the following facts :-—Some time before
his death, young G had regularly
attended the narrator’s church, and the
truths of religion had made some im_
pression upon his mind. His pastor ob-
served this, and had several interviews
with him, but in vain. The influences
of the world pressed hard upon him-
his convictions were dissipated; and he
seemed to gird himself up to tread, with
more determined step, the whole round
of earthly pleasu1e. But, in the midst
of gay scenes of fashion and amusement,
he heard a new note of alarm. He
was suddenly laid upon a sick-bed, and
brought to the very brink of the grave!
He was now overwhelmed with his re-
flections, and he resolved to enter at


32
once upon a religious course of life.
The minister before referred to called
to see him at this time, faithfully warned
and counselled him ; and young G
faithfully promised, that if raised u
from that sick-bed, the Lord should be
his God. He was spared, raised up,
but his vow was not kept. But a few
weeks had passed by, after he left _his
sick-room, before he was again im-
mersed in the pleasures and follies of
the world.
Mr. M-——, his ministerial friend,
learning his conduct, shortly after called
to pay him a visit. G had made
arrangements to spend the evening of
that very day amid a scene of reckless
gayety and dissipation. Mr. M ,
with the fearlessness of a faithful minis-
ter of Jesus Christ, told G that the
course he was taking would ruin his
soul——that his broken vows would one
day rise up in judgment against him—-
that if he now hesitated to repent, this
might be the last call that God would
ever send him.
After his departure, when G
found himself alone, and thought of all
the past, he could not refrain from tears,
which gushed forth amid the bitterness
of his soul. He could not but admit
the truth of all that had been said to
him; still l1e was undecided. While
absorbed in these reflections, and still
in this state of indecision, it was an~
nounced to him that a gentleman was
waiting to see him. It was one of his
gay companions. He had called to
make some arrangements in reference
to the anticipated party. They had not
long been discussing their plans before
all serious impressions were eff-aced f1 om
young G ’s mind, and he entered
the illuminated festal hall that evening
with a light and bounding heart. Zut
the last call cf God had indeed reached
his ear, and been rejected, and now he
was going like an ex to the slaughter.
In the midst of that intoxicating scene
of pleasure, where the splendid and gay
costume of each passing group was re.
flected from a hundred brilliant lamps,
and where music poured forth her en-
chanting strains, in the very act of
passing through the varied movements
of a spirited waltz, young G———— sud.


71
32
BALLS, OR PUBLIC DANGES.
-_-_

_-___-- -1 __

denly drooped, and fell lifelesx to the
floor !
(6) THE YOUNG I.ADY’S
CHOlCE.—A young lady residing in
Waterbury, Ct., made an engagement
to attend a ball in a neighboring town.
Before the time arrived, a series of reli-
gious meetings were held in W., and
not.a few among the young people were
led to reflection, and became hopefully
converted. Miss A. was at that time
residing in the minister’s family, and
was very deeply impressed with the ne-
cessity of becoming a Christian. Her
distress by day and night was so great
she could scarcely eat or sleep. She
was faithfully conversed and prayed
with ; but while others found peace in
believing, her distress continued. Her
friends, who were aware of her engage-
ment, pressed her at once with the ques-
tion, whether she was willing to give
up the ball for the sake of an interest in
Christ. For a while she wavered; she
wished very much to be saved, and was
ready to surrender every thing else;
but she thought so much of the ball, and
was so anxious to secure the regards of
the young man who had invited her, she
desired exceedingly to go this once.
Here was a controversy with God; a
severe struggle between motives of in-
terest and convictions of duty. At
length she fully decided to go to the ball.
Her serious impressions were speedily
dissipated; all anxiety about her soul
subsided, and, so far as known, never
revived again. That was doubtless the
turning point ,in her history; and that
decision sealed her ruin. It is worthy
of remark that the conduct of the young
man towards her on their way to the
ball, led her to a painful discovery of
his corrupt character, destroyed her
happiness at the ball, and broke up their
correspondence forever. She sold her
soul for an apple of Sodom: it tempted
her eyes,
“ But turned to ashes on the lips.”
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
AMUSEMENT AND PRAYER.--
Mary Ann was a beautiful girl, eighteen
or nineteen years of age, of an esteemed
and intelligent family. Though ac-
knowledging some regard for religion,

_,---—_
she believed, with some of its more
worldly professors, that it was right
to indulge in fashionable amusements.
She was very fond of balls and dances.
In the time of a revival, when her
young friends were becoming pious, she
was urged by her family physician to
dedicate her soul to Christ.
“How can I think,” said she, “ of
becoming pious, when, in doing so,I
shall debar myself of the privilege of
attending balls? Our minister says
dancing is wrong. If the Rev. Mr.
was our pastor,I think I would
venture to be pious, for he allows this
innocent amusement.” “It was in vain
that I tried,” says the physiciat, “to
convince her of this delusion, and so-
lemnly reminded her, that she would
yet see the difference between a life of
amusement and a life of prayer. She
listened respectfully, and not without a
tear, but clung still to her favorite
amusement.”
Ere long the physician was sum
moned to her bed-side. He found her
dangerously ill with the typhus fever.
He alluded to the state of her soul ; but
she told him she was too weak then tc
converse with him; yet she requesteo
an interest in his prayers.
After an absence of several hours
he returned, and found her on the brink
of dissolution. We quote her physi-
cian’s words for the remainder of the
story.
“The patient had fallen into a state
of stupor, so fearfully ominous of the
fatal termination of the typhus fever.
The tongue and lips were covered with
a dark tenacious fur, the speech was
scarcely intelligible, and the eyes were
partially closed. A sort of low mur-
mur or meaning was heard from her
half-opened lips. Yet, when called by
name, she would open her eyes, and
seemed to recognize those around her.
She continued in this condition for seve-
ral hours, during which period she oc-
casionally uttered the most heart-touch-
ing and unearthly groans I ever heard
from a mortal being. They distressed
me—-they distressed us all.
“ At last, putting my mouth to her
ear, I said-1‘/Iary Ann, do tell me what
mean these unearthly groans which we

----_ T
BANKRUPTCY.
83
hear from you ’!——What is the m..tter,
my dear child ’.l If it is in your power
to tell me, do, I beseech you. And
never shall I forget the reply. She
opened her once beautiful eyes, slowly
raised her pale and attenuated hand,
and fixing on me a look that made my
very soul aehe—such was its solemn in-
tensity—-she said, with an audibleness

of her voice that utterly astonished us
all, ‘ Doctor, Doctor, there is a cliference
between a life of amusement and a lzfe of
prayer. 0, it is hard to die without an
interest in Christ.’ She closed her eyes,
her hand fell, and all was silent. And,
my soul, what a silence was that ! Soon
the earthly anguish of the sufferer was
ended—she spoke not again.”
33. BANKRUPTCY.
(a) THE HON EST DEBTOR.—
In the year 1805, a small tradesmen, in
a country town in Somersetshire, became
so much embarrassed, that he thought
it no more than an honest part to make
known the situation of his affairs to his
creditors. The consequent investiga-
tion which took place, terminated in an
assignment of his effects, which, when
sold, produced a dividend of nine shil-
lings and fourpence in the pound, and
he received a discharge from all further
claims. But, although thus legally ac-
quitted, and with little prospect of real-
izing his intention, this honest man
formed the honorable resolution of, at
least, attempting what appeared to him
the ol ligations of unalterable justice, by
making up the deficiency to all his credi-
tors. It is true, the sum required was
small, not quite ninety pounds ; but his
means were proportionably inadequate,
having now nothing but his daily labor
from which it could be obtained, after
defraying the necessary expenses ; and
his wages were discouragingly low, not
averaging more than twelve shillings
per week. Mean accommodations and
clothing, hard fare and hard work, at
length enabled him. through the Divine
blessing, to accomplish his purpose. The
creditors were all paid in full, and they
esteemed his integrity so highly, that
they thought proper to acknowledge
their sense of it b a handsome present.
(b) THE INSOLVENT’S QUERY.
-——I was made acquainted, says a writer
in the Fathers’ Magazine, with one case
that strongly affected me, of a man who
had been many weeks under the awak-
ening influences of the Holy Spirit, and
at length, when pressed to give up his
heart he propout ded to his pastor this

question : If one had been mvolved and
had failed, and paid his debts by means of
the insolvent act, would he, on becoming
pious, fee! constrained to pay up all he
owed? He was answered, as he should
be, in the aflirmative. But it was per-
ceived from that moment that the man
was more than ever troubled, till, after
a conflict of several days, he threw off
his care about his soul, and has never
been disturbed since. And there was
not a doubt with any who intimately
knew him, but that those dreadful days
secured his speedy and fearful damna-
tion. He has probably gone to give in
his account.
(6) THE HONEST INSOLVEN T.
—A gentleman of Boston, says a reli-
gious journal, who was unfortunate in
business thirty years ago, and conse-
quently unable at that time to meet
his engagements with his creditors, after
more than twenty years of toil, suc-
ceeded in paying every creditor, (except
one whose residence could not be ascer-
tained,) the whole amount due them.
He has in that twenty years brought
up and educated a large familv_hut
still he owed one of his former creeimrs :
he was not satisfied to keep anotne.r’s
property ; he made inquiry, and received
information that the party had dice some
years since. He again pursued his‘ in-
quiry respecting the administrator, and
ascertained his name and residence,
wrote to him, acknowledged the debt,
and requested him to inform him of the
manner he would receive the money.
A few days since he remitted the whole
amount, principal and interest.
(Ii) FAILURE OF ROVVLAND
HILL TO PRACTISE HIS O\VN
ADVICE.—It was the custom of this
73
33
BANKRUPTCY.
eminently useful minister, at the com-
mencement of a new year, to preach an
annual sermon for the “Benevolent
Society of Surrey Chapel, for visiting
and relieving the Sick Poor at their own
Habitations,” selecting, at the same
time, a few of the most remarkable
cases to read to his congregation, that
had been visited during the preceding
year. On one of these occasions, he
' narrated the afliictive circumstances of
a lady, formerly of property and respec-
tability, who had been plunged into the
depths of poverty and want, in a time
of sickness, through having imprudent-
ly become security for some relation or
friend ; and Mr. Hill took this opportu-
nity of publicly warning and entreating
all present to be on their guard against
committing so fatal an error. “ I would
advise all my friends,” said he, “to do
the same as I do myself, when any re-
quest of this kind comes to me. I just
walk out of one room into another, and
consider what I can afford to give, and
what I ought to give to the applicant;
thenlreturn and say, ‘ Here, my friend,
I make you a present of this sum, and
if you can get a few others to help you
in the same way, perhaps you will get
over your difficulty.’ Then,” said Mr.
Hill, with emphasis, “I know the end
of it, but were I to lend my name, or be-
come surety, I know not how that might
end.”
Strange as it may appear, he was
waited on a few months after this, by
one of the members of the church, so-
liciting his kind assistance in procuring
him a lucrative situation, then vacant in
that parish and district, viz., a collector
of the king’s taxes; the person urged
that it would be the making of him and
his family, but that he must have two
bondsmen for one thousand pounds each.
Mr. Hill said, he would consider of it.
This petitioner was well known to Mr.
Hill ; he had long held a confidential
situation in his chapel, and was, besides,
in a good trade and connection of busi-
ness, with his friends. There was no
reason to doubt his integrity; and he
evas one that Mr. Hill was desirous to
oblige. The result was, he became one
of his securities and prevailed on a gen-
tleman at Clapham to be the other ; anal
the situation was obtained. Alas I alas I
for poor Mr. Hill and his brother bonds-
manI In three or four years, the col-
lector was a defaulter to the amount of
thousands. The securities were obliged
to pay.
(6) THE BANKRUPT’S ENTER-
TAlNMENT.—-Dr. Franklin relates
the following anecdote of Mr. Denham,
an American merchant, with whom he
once went a passenger to England.
“He had formerly,” he says, “been
in business at Bristol, had failed, in debt
to a number of people, compounded, and
went to America; there, by a close ap-
plication to business as a merchant, he
acquired a plentiful fortune in a few
years. Returning to England in the
ship with me, he invited his old credi-
tors to an entertainment, at which he
thanked them for the easy compensation
they had favored him with ; and when
they expected nothing but the treat,
every man, at the first remove, found
under his plate an order on a banker for
the full amount of the unpaid remainder,
with interest.”
(f) THE BANKRUPT QUAKER.
——A person of the Quaker profession,
says a London paper, having through
misfortune become insolvent, and not
being able to pay more than 11s. to the
pound, formed a resol ution, if Providence
smiled on his future endeavors, to pay
the whole amount, and in case of death
he ordered his sons to liquidate his debts
by their joint proportions. It pleased
God, however, to spare his life, and after
struggling with a variety of difliculties,
(for his livelihood chiefly depended on
his own labor,) he at length saved suf-
ficient to satisfy every demand. One
day the old man went with a considera-
b.e sum to the surviving son of one of
his creditors, who had been dead thirty
years, and insisted on paying him the
money he owed his father, which he ac-
cordingly did wi h heart-felt satisfac
tion.
74
BE AUTY- -BEGGARS--BEGGARY.
34, 35
__~-_-- _ -~.

34. BEAUTY.
(a) 'l HE FATHER’S ADVICE.-—
A gentleman had two children: the one
a daughter, who was considered plain
in her person; the other a son, who
was reckoned handsome. One day, as
they were playing together, they saw
their faces in a looking-glass. The boy
was charmed with his beauty, and spoke
of it to his sister, who considered his
remarks as so many reflections on her
want of it. She told her father of the
affair, complaining of her brother’s
rudeness to her. The father, instead
of appearing angry, took them both on
his knees, and with much affection gave
them the following advice :——“I would
have you both look in the glass every
day; you, my son, that you may be
reminded never to dishonor the beauty
of your face by the deformity of your
actions; and you, my daughter, that you
may take care to hide the defect of
beauty in your person by the superior
lustre of your virtuous and amiable con-
duct.”
(5)) BEAUTY IN THE GRAVE.—
A young lady in A , N. Y., was
attacked with the small-pox. She was

gay and thoughtless, and had been'
much admired for her comeliness and

beauty. When the disease made its
appearance, she became distressed at
the thought of losing her beauty, and
marifested her concern, by speak-
ing frequently of such a dreadful event.
Her mother, with deep solicitude, seemed
to sympathize With the daughter in these
fearful apprehensions. They convers-
ed on the subject, and spoke of the
probable influence which the circum-
stance would have upon the future
prospects of the unfortunate young lady.
While dwelling in her mind on this
gloomy picture, the messenger of death
suddenly and unexpectedly stood before
her, clothed in terrors. He bade her
silence her wicked complainings, and
follow him, and lay her beauty down in
the grave. There was no resisting the
mandate. She yielded almost instantly
to the stern command, and the worms
reveled on that beauteous brow, whose
fairness she would so sedulously have
preserved. The soul—that seemed not
to be thought of. No care had been
taken to preserve it pure and spotless,
or to cleanse it in the\fountain of the
Savior’s blood. IVhat an unsightly
thing is beauty in the grave !
35. BEGGARS—BEGGARY.
(a) THE QUAKER’S CHARITY.
-——A certain benevolent Quaker in New-
York, was asked by a poor man for
money as charity, or for work. The
Quaker observed——“ Friend, I do not
know what I can give thee to do I Let
me see; thou mayst take my wood that
is in the yard, up stairs, and I will give
thee half a dollar.” This the poor man
was glad to do, and the job lasted him
till about noon, when he came and told
nim the work was done, and asked him
if he had any more to do. “ IVhy
friend, let me consider,” said the queer
Quaker: “Oh! thou mayst take the
wood down again, and I will give thee
another half d >llar.”

(Z2) OBERLIN’S METI-IOD.—-The
Rev. John Frederic Oberlin was distin-
guished by his charity and benevolence,
and though scarcely a mendicant was
ever seen in the valley of the Ban de la
Roche, where he resided, sometimes a
pauper from the neighboring communes,
attracted by the well-known disposition
of the pastor and his people, wandered
thither to implore that assistance which,
ifdeserving, he never failed to receive.
“ Why do you not work '2” was Ober-
lin’s usual interrogation. “ Because
no one will employ me,” was the gene
ral reply. “ Well, then, I will employ
you. There—carry these planks-—
break those stones—fill that bucket W] h
75
35, 36
BEN FFICENCE.

water, and I will repay you for your
trouble.” Such was his usual mode
of proceeding; and idle beggars were
taught to come there no more.
(0) THE MAYOR’S OPINION.——
At a meeting held in London, concern-
1ng the houseless poor, the Lord Mayor
remarked, that be considered that one
of the greatest causes of vagrancy was
Want of work. For the purpose of pre-
ventmg this complaint, he would advise
the adoption of a plan, which an old
friend of his, Mr. Jackson, one of the
overseers of the parish of St. Catherine
Cree, had tried. He would provide
work, whether that work proved a mat-
ter of pecuniary advantage or not; and
the host of vagrants who hated work
would soon disappear, as they had done
in the case of his friend, when they
found that without working for it, they
could get nothing to eat. The case to
which his lordship alluded was as fol-
lows: Mr. Jackson was considerably
annoyed while he was overseer, by the
solicitations of great hulking fellows of
the parish, who always said they could
get no work. “ VVell, my poor men,”
he at length said to some of them, “ I ’ll
see and get ,,you a little work.” He
then took them to the church-yard, and
ordered them to pick up all the loose
stones that were laying about and throw
them in a corner. In a few hours all
but one got tired, and skulked-off. He
who remained calculated upon the con-
trast between his conduct and that of
those who departed, and he actually
stayed two or three days, which greatly
increased his strength. He collected

“
all the small stones he could find, in a
corner. As soon as he had done so, he
went off to Mr. Jackson, who had paid
him most cheerfully, and said he was
again at a loss for work. “Say you
so, my poor fellow ?” said Mr. Jackson;
“then I must see whatl can do for
you. Let me see, there is a sack, fill
that with stones from the corner, and
carry them off to Bethnal Green, and
make haste back for another sack.”
The vagrant pmceeded upon his new
employment with a very ill grace. As
soon as he got to White Chapel Church,
he shot the contents of his sack into the
church-yard, and swearing that he
would never, as long as he lived, go
into a church-yard again, walked off
with the sack, and was never again seen
by Mr. Jackson.
The practice has been found an in-
fallible cure for vagrancy in the parish
of St. Catherine Cree.
The celebrated Cooke, the miser of
Petonville, knew the disposition of beg
gars well, and drew much benefit from
the knowledge. When any beggar
came to his gate, and complained of
want of work, Cooke set him to digging
the garden, but took care to watch from
under a window, lest he should run off
with the spade. After an hour or two’s
labor, the workman stuck his spade
into the earth and sneaked off. His
place was soon supplied by another,
who had very little inclination to labor;
and thus Cooke managed to have his
garden dug entirely over, without a
farthing’s expense.
BEN EFICEN CE.
36. Beneticence in Hazarding Life.
(a) WRECK or THE DUTTON.
-—The following extract of a letter, writ-
ten by a distinguished naval officer, and
published in the “ United Service Jour-
nal,” very forcibly illustrates his bene-
volent disposition :
“Why do you ask me to relate the
wreck of the Dutton’? Susan (Lady
Exmouth) and I were driving to a dinner

party at Plymouth, when we saw crowds
running to the Hoe; and learning it was
a wreck, I left the carriage to take her
on, and joined the crowd. I saw the
loss of the whole five or six hundred
was inevitable, without somebody to di-
rect them ; for the last officer was pulled
ashore as I reached the surf. I urged
the officers to return, but they refused ;
upon which I made the rope fast to my-
self, and was hauled through the surf
BENEFICENCE IN HAZARDING LIF
36
.—I_—-—- p If
on board, established order, and did not
leave her until every one was saved but
the boatswain, who would not go before
me. I got safe, and so did he; and the
ship went all to pieces. But I was laid
in bed for a week, by getting under the
mainmast, which had fallen towards the
shore ; and my back was cured by
Lord Spencer’s having conveyed to me
by letter his majesty’s intention to dub
me a baronet. N o more have I to say,
except that I felt more pleasure in giv-
ing to a mother’s arms a dear little in-
fant, only three weeks old, than I ever
felt in my life; and both were saved.
The struggle she had to intrust me with
the bantling, was a scene I cannot de-
scribe ; nor need you ; and, conse-
quently, you will never let this be visi-
ble.”
We are informed that the injunction
just referred to, was scrupulously re-
garded till death removed all necessity
for secrecy.
(b) FRANCIS II. AND HIS FAM-
ISHING SUBJECTS. —-One arm of
the Danube separates the city of Vienna
from a suburban part called Leopold-
stadt. A thaw inundated this part, and
the ice carried away the bridge of com-
munication with the capital. The pop-
ulation of Leopold-stadt began to be in
the greatest distress for want of provi-
sions. A number of boats were collected
and loaded with bread: but no one felt
hardy enough to risk the passage, which
was rendered extremely dangerous by
large bodies of ice. Francis IL, who
was then emperor, stood at the water’s
edge: he begged, exhorted, threatened,
and promised the highest recompenses,
but all in vain; Whilst, on the other
shore, his subjects, famishing with hun-
ger, stretched forth their hands, and
supplicated relief. The monarch imme-
diately leaped singly into a boat loaded
with bread, and applied himself to the
oars, exclaiming, “ Never shall it be
said that I saw those perish, without an
effort to save them, who would risk their
all for me.” The example of the sove-
reign, sudden as electricity, inflamed
the spectators, who threw themselves in
crowds into the boats. They encoun-
tered the sea with success, and gained
1be suburbs just as their intrepid mon-

arch, with the tear of pity in his eye,
held out the bread he had conveyed
across the water at the risk of his
life.
(0) THE ARGYLESHIRE FISH-
ERMAN .—-Two fishermen, a few years
ago, were mending their nets on board
their vessel on one of the lakes in the
interior of Argyleshire, at a considera-
ble distance from the shore, when a
sudden squall upset their boat. One
of them could not swim, and the only
oar which floated was caught by him
that could swim. His sinking compan-
ion cried, “ Ah, my poor wife and chil-
dren, they must starve now!” “Save
yourself, I will risk my life for their
sakes! ” said the other, thrusting the *ar
under the arm of the drowning man. He
committed himselfinstantly to the deep,
expecting to perish for the safety of his
companion. That moment the boat
struck the bottom, and started the other
oar by their side, and thus both were
enabled to keep afloat till they were
icked up.
(cl) THE HEROIC PEASANT.—-
The following generous instance of
heroism in a peasant, has somewhat even
of the sublime in it. A great inunda-
tion having taken place in the north of
Italy, owing to an excessive fall of snow
in the Alps, followed by a speedy thaw,
the river Adige carried off a bridge
near Verona, except the middle part,
on which was the house of the toll-
gatherer, who with his whole family
thus remained imprisoned by the waves,
and in momentary expectation of cer-
tain destruction. They were discovered
from the banks, stretching forth their
hands, screaming, and imploring succor,
while fragments of this only remaining
arch were continually dropping ir..o the
impetuous torrent. In this extreme
danger, the Count of Pulverini, who
was a spectator, held out a purse of one
hundred sequins, as a reward to any ad-
venturer who would take a boat and
save this unhappy family. But the risk
of being borne down by the rapidity of
the stream, and being dashed against
the fragment of the bridge, and of being
crushed by the falling of the heavy
stones, was so great that not one of the
vast number of lookers-on had courage
77
36
BENEFICENCE.
enough to attempt such an exploit. A
peasant passing along was informed of
the promised reward. Immediately
jumping into a boat, he, by amazing
strength of cars, gained the middle of
the river, and brought the boat under
the pile, when the whole terrified family
safely descended into it by means of a
rope. “Courage,” cried he, ‘ now you
are safe!” By a still more strenuous
effort, and great strength of arm, he
brought the boat and family to shore.
“Brave fellow !” exclaimed the Count,
handing the purse to him; “here is
your promised recompense.” “I shall
never expose my life for money,” an-
swered the peasant; “my labor af-
fords a sufficient livelihood for myself,
my wife and my children; give the
purse to this poor family who has lost
its all !”
(e) RESCUING A DROI/VNING
BOY.——The Rev. Mr. Kelly, of the
town of Ayr, once preached an ex-
cellent sermon from the parable of the
man who fell among thieves. He was
particularly severe on the conduct of
the priest, who saw him, and ministered
not unto him, but passed by on the other
side; and, in an animated and pathetic
flow of eloquence, he exclaimed, “What!
not even the servant of the Almighty!
he whose tongue was engaged in the
work of charity, whos‘e bosom was ap-
pointed the seat of brotherly love, whose
heart the emblem of pity; did he re-
fuse to stretch forth his hand, and to
take the mantle from his shoulders to
cover the nakedness of woe? If he
refused, if the shepherd himself went
astray, was it to be wondered at that
the flock followed?” Such were the
precepts of the preacher, and he prac-
tised what he preached. The next
day, when the river was much increased,
a boy was swept overboard from a small
boat by the force of the current. A great
concourse of people were assembled,
but none of them attempted to save the
boy; when Mr. Kelly threw himself
from his chamber window into the cur-
rent, and at the hazard of his own life
saved that of the boy.
MA RTINEL’S ACHIEVE-
MENTS.—The life of ad_jutant Mar-
tinel is full of the most striking and


,_---_Aa--v \
\
sublime exhibitions of a heroic and self-
denying benevolence.
In 1820, at Strasburg, a soldier fell
into the river Ill, near the sluices of a
mill ; the place apparently left no chance
for help. Hearing the despairing cries of
a woman, Martinel, who was passing,
threw himself in, with all his clothes on,
and without looking to see if there was
a chance for his life or not, he swam
directly towards the sluice; and there
supporting himself by one hand on the
post of the water-gate, he attempted to
seize with the other, in his passage, the
unfortunate being whom a rapid current
carried towards the wheel of the mill.
He saw him coming, already sunk se-
veral feet under the water ; it was
necessary to quit the support in order
to seize him, by which action he would
be carried away himself. He, however,
quitted it, seized the body, passed under
the mill-wheel with him, carried away
by the rapidity of the current, and soon
reappeared on the other side of the
sluice, without having let go of the poor
creature, whom he carried to land, and
to whom life was restored.
Another time, at Strasburg, he threw
himself into greater, and more certain
peril. A powder magazine was on fire,
and about to blow up. An exalted
sentiment of humanity and devotion im-
pelled him on. Immediately above the
magazine, (which contained a barrel of
powder and a thousand packets of cart-
ridges,) was a large chamber, used as
an infirmary, where nine of his poor
comrades, soldiers, were confined to
their beds. The people flew on all
sides. Martinel engaged several men to
aid the invalids with him ; and he mount-
ed without perceiving that the increas-
ing fire had prevented his companions
from following him. He arrived alone
at the door of a chamber near that in
which the cartridges were kept. He
found that by a fatality this door was
locked. He made a battering ram of
a bench, and burst it open; but, as he
was about to rush in, great flames re-
pulsed him. Then his resolution tot-
tered, he recoiled, and was about to re-
descend. Then he remembered that
the fire was approaching the cartridges,
and that if his resolution failed him, his
78
I,
BENEFICENCE IN DYING FOR OTHERS.
37
companions were about to be blown up.
The instinct of his self-preservation then
no longer stopped him; he dashed for-
ward, closing his eyes, across the
flames, and with clothes, hands, hair,
face, blackened and burned, he found
With joy that the cartridges were un-
touched. He pressed onward, and
snatched away the heaps of enveloping
paper, which the fire was on the point of
reaching. He appeared at a window;
he cried and called, “Water! water i”
His presence in the powder magazine, re-
assuring his comrades of the imminence
of the peril, they mounted; the cham-
ber of cartridges was inundated, and
the nine unfortunate invalids were saved.
87. Bcneficcnce in Dying for Others.
(a) THE RUSSIAN DRUMMER.
—-Many years ago, the Baschirs revolt-
ed. Near Krasno-Ufhmske, in the go-
vernment of Perm, they had cut in pieces
some companies of dragoons, and devised
to take the fortress of Atschitskaja, by
stratagem. They dressed themselves
in the uniforms of the dragoons, mounted
their horses, and marched towards the
fortress. To keep up the deception of
being really Russians, they had spared
a drummer, whom they ordered to play
the Russian dragoon march. On ap-
proaching the fortress, the gates were
thrown open; when the drummer, in-
stead of the march, beat the alarm. The
garrison then perceived the treacherous
artifice, closed the gates, and prepared
for resistance. As the Baschirs could
not make a regular attack, they were
obliged to retreat, when they cut the
poor drummer ts pieces. His fate he
had foreseen, and therefore his voluntary
sacrifice was the more striking and
raise-worthy.
(b) TIIE HEROIC N EGRO.—-The
captain of one of Commodore Johnson’s
Dutch prizes related, that one day he
went out of his own ship, to dine on
board another; while he was there, a
storm arose, which in a short time made
an entire wreck of his own ship, to which
it was impossible for him to return. He
had left on board two little boys, one
four, the other five years old, under the
care of a poor black servant. The people

—-I
struggled to get out of the sinking ship
into a large boat, and the poor black
took his two little children, tied them
into a bag, and put in a little pot of sweet-
meats for them. slung them across his
shoulder, and put them into the boat;
the boat by this time was quite full, the
black was stepping into it himself, but
was told by the master there was no
room for him, that either he or the
children must perish, for the weight of
both would sink the boat. The exalted,
heroic negro did not hesitate a moment.
“Very well,” said he, “give my duty to
my master, and tell him Ibeg pardon
for all my faults;” and then plunged
to the bottom, never to rise again till the
sea shall give up her dead.
(0) A SERVANT DYING FOR
HIS MASTER.—A gentleman was
travelling, with his valet de chambre,
in a sledge, through one of the extensive
forests of Poland, when they were sud-
denly attacked by a number of wolves,
which leaped furiously at the carriage.
The servant, who instantly perceived
that either he or his master must fall a
victim to their fury, exclaimed, “ Pro-
tect my wife and children ;” and in-
stantly rushing into the midst of them,
perished in a moment, and by this
generous act saved his master, who fled
from the danger, by driving forward
with the greatest rapidity.
(d) THE DEVOTED NURSE.—-
The Rev. S. \V. Hanna says: On the
10th of June, 1770, the town of Port-
au-Prince, in Hayti, was utterly over-
thrown by a dreadful earthquake. From
one of the falling houses the inmates
had fled, except a negro woman, the
nurse of her master’s infant child. She
would not desert her charge, though
the walls were even then giving way.
Rushing to its bed-side, she stretched
forth her arms to enfold it. The build-
ing rocked to its foundation ;—-tl1e roof
fell in. Did it crush the hapless pair’?
The heavy fragments fell indeed upon
the woman, but the infant escaped un-
harmed; for its noble protectress ex-
tended her bended form across the body,
and, at the sacrifice of her own life,
preserved her charge from destruction.
(e) CAIUS GRACCHUS AND
HIS TWO F RIENDS.—Caius Grac-
79
38
BENEFICENCE.
0
chus, who was the idol of the Roman
people, and having carried his regard
for the lower orders so faf as to draw
upon himself the resentment of the no-
bility, an open rupture ensued ; and the
two extremities of Rome resembled two
camps, Opimius the consul on one side,
and Gracchus and his friend Fulvius
on the other. A battle ensued, in which
the consul, meeting with more vigorous
resistance than he expected, proclaimed
an amnesty for all those who should lay
down their arms ; and at the same time
promised to pay for the heads of Grac-
chus and F ulvius their weight in gold.
This proclamation had the desired effect.
The populace deserted their leaders;
Fulvius was taken and beheaded, and
Gracchus, at the advice of his two friends,
Licinius Crassus his brother-in-law, and
Pomponius a Roman knight, determined
to flee from the city. He passed, on his
way, through the centre of the city, and
reached the bridge Sublicius, where his
enemies, who pursued him close, would
have overtaken and seized him, if his
two friends had not opposed their fury;
but they saw the danger he was in, and
they determined to save his life at the
expense of their own. They defended
the bridge against all the consular troops
till Gracchus was out of their reach;
but at length, being overpowered by
numbers and covered with wounds,
they both expired on the bridge which
they had so valiantly defended.
88. Self-denying Belpcfficente, Shown by the
it .
(a) THE CONSECRATED FOR-
TUNE. ——A minister of the gospel,
conversing with Lady Huntingdon about
the wants of a family that appeared to
be in distress, her ladyship observed, “ I
can do for them but very little. I am
obliged to be a spectator of miseries
which I pity, but cannot relieve: for
when I gave myself up to the Lord, I
likewise devoted to him all my fortune,
with this reser re, that I would take with
a sparing han lwhat might be necessary
for my food and raiment, and for the
support of my children, should they
live to be reduced. I was led to this
from a consideration that there were

many benevolent persons, who had no
religion, who could feel for the tempo-
ral miseries of others, and help them ;
but few, even among professors, who
had a proper concern for the awful con-
dition of ignorant and perishing souls.
What, therefore, I can save for a while
out of my own necessaries I will give
them; but morel dare not take with-
out being guilty of sacrilege.”
(Z2) LADY HUNTINGDON ANI)
THE TRADESMAN.——Lady Hunt-
ingdon, with an income of only £1 200 a
year, did much for the cause of religion.
She maintained the college she had
erected, at her sole expense ; she erect-
ed chapels in most parts of the kingdom,
and she supported ministers who were
sent to preach in various parts of the
world. A minister of the gospel, and a
person from the country, once called on
her ladyship. When they came out,
the countryman turned his eyes towards
the house, and, after a short pause, ex-
claimed, “ What a lesson! Can a per-
son of her noble birth, nursed in the
lap of grandeur, live in such a house,
so meanly furnished-—and shall I, a
tradesman, be surrounded with luxury
and elegance? From this moment I
shall hate my house, my furniture, and
myself, for spending so little for God,
and so much in folly.”
(0) MATTHEW HALE AND THE
POOR.—It is said of the excellent Lord
Chief Justice Hale that he frequently
invited his poor neighbors to dinner,
and made them sit at table with himself.
If any of‘them were sick, so that they
could not come, he would send provi-
sions to them warm from his own table.
He did not confine his bounties to the
poor of his own parish, but diffused
supplies to the neighboring parishes as
occasion required. He always treated
the old, the needy, and the sick, with
the tenderness and familiarity that be.
came one who considered they were of
the same nature with himself, and were
reduced to no other necessities but such
as he himself might be brought to.
Common beggars he considered in an-
other view. If any of these met him
in his walks, or came to his door, he
would ask such as were capable of
working, why they went about so idly.
80


HA1‘ lil’l':R.€UL lP§»lRJllD)GlEl, VEKRGJI \1l.'Fa..
SELF -DENYING BENEFICENCE-—SHOWN BY '1 HE RICH.
38
If they answered, it Was because they
could not get employ, he would send
them to some field, to gather all the
stones in it, and lay them in a heap;
and then paid them liberally for their
trouble. This being done, he used to
send his carts, and cause them to be
carried to such places of the highway as
needed repair.
(03) PRINCESS CHARLOTTE’S
BENEVOLENCE.— It is related of
the lamented Princess Charlotte, that in
one of her walks with Prince Leopold,
in November, 1816, she addressed a de-
cent looking man, who was employed
as a day-laborer, and said, “My good
man, you appear to have seen better
days.” “ I have, your royal highness,”
he replied : “ I have rented a good farm,
but the change in the times has ruined
me.” At this reply she burst into tears,
and said to the prince, “ Let us be grate-
ful to Prmidence for his blessings, and
endeavor to fulfil the important duties
required of us, to make all our laborers
happy." On her return home, she de-
sired the steward to make out a list of
all the deserving families in the neigh-
borhood, with the particulars of their
circumstances: orders were given to
the household that the whole of the su-
perfluous food should be carefully distri-
butect accordmg to the wants of the
poor: and, instead of the usual festivi-
ties on the following birth-days of the
prince and princess, £150 were sent
on each occasion in clothing the
cor.
(e) THE DUCHESS OF VENTA-
DOUR.--I)urmg a scarcity, nearly
approaching to famine, which prevailed
in France, produced by the dreadful
severity of the preceding winter, the
Duchess of Ventadour, who had, on ac-
count of her exemplary character, been
appointed governess of the infant king,
Louis XV., not only gave away all her
revenue, but, in addition to this borrow-
ed 80,000 francs to relieve the poor.
Her steward remonstrated with her,
saying, that she passed all the bounds of
prudence ; but she meekly replied,
“ Let us give always, and even borrow,
while it is necessary, to save the poor
from death; we shall never want, nei-
therl nor my family; in my station

there is no great he rdship in trusting to
Providence.”
EDWARD COLSTON, TI-IE
BRISTOL MERCHANT. — Edward
Colston, at the age of forty years, be
came a very eminent East India met-
chant, prior to the incorporation of the
East India Company, and had forty sail
of ships of his own, with immense riches
flowing in upon him. He still remained
uniform in his charitable disposition,
distributing many thousand pounds to
various charities in and about London,
besides private gifts in many parts of
the kingdom. In the year 1708, he in-
stituted a very magnificent school in St.
Augustine’s-back, in Bristol, whic 1 cost
him £11,000 in the building, and endow-
ed the same with between £1,700, and
£1,800 per annum forever. He like-
wise gave £10 for apprenticing every
boy, and for twelve years after his
death £10 to put them into business. It
has been frequently reported that his
private charities far exceeded those in
public. “ \Ve have heard,” says the
Bristol (Eng.) Journal, “that one of his
ships trading to the East Indies had been
missing upwards of three years, and
was supposed to be destroyed at sea,
but at length she arrived, richly laden.
When his principal clerk brought him
the report of her arrival, and of the
riches on board, he said, as she was to-
tally given up for lest, he would by no
means claim any right to her; there-
fore he ordered the ship and merchan-
dise to be sold, and the produce thereof
to be applied towards the relief of the
needy, which directions were immedi-
ately carried into execution. Another
singular instance of his tender con-
sciousness for charity was at the age of
forty, when he entertained some thoughts
of changing his condition. He paid his
addresses to a lady, but being very
timorous lest he should be hindered in
his pious and charitable designs, he was
determined to make a Christian trial of
her temper and disposition, and therefore
one morning filled his pockets with gold
and silver, in order that, if any object
presented itself in the course of their
tour over London bridge, he might satisfy
his intentions. ‘While they were walk.
ing near St. Magnus Church, a woman
6
81.
38, 39
BENEFICENCE.
in extreme mise1'_v, with twins in her
lap, sat begging; and, as he and his
intended lady were arm-in-arm, he be-
held the wretched object, put his hand
in his pocket, and took out a handful of
gold and silver, casting it into the poor
woman’slap. The lady being greatly
alarmed at such profuse generosity,
colored prodigiously ; so that, when
they were gone a little further towards
the bridge-foot, she turned to him, and
said, “Sir, do you know what you did
a few minutes ago ?” “l\Iadam,” re-
plied Mr. Colston, “ I never let my right
hand know what my left hand doeth.”
He then took his leave of her, and for
this reason never married to the day of
his death, although he lived to the age
of eighty-five.
(g) MRS. HOWARD’S SPEND-
ING MONEY.——The benevolent John
Howard, well known for his philanthro-
py, especially his attention to prisoners,
having settled his accounts at the close
of a particular year, and found a bal-
ance in his favor, proposed to his wife
to make use of it in a journey to Lon-
don, or in any other excursion she chose.
“ What a pretty cottage for a poor fami-
ly it would build I” was her answer.
This charitable hint met with his cor-
dial approbation, and the money was
laid out accordingly.
(h) WHERE IT SHOULD BE.—-
VVhen a gentleman who had been ac-
customed tc give away some thousands
was supposed to be at the point of death,
his presumptive heir inquired where his
fortune was to be found. To whom he
answered, “ that it was in the pockets of
the indigent.”
A BENEVOLENT VICAR.—-
John Baptist Joseph Languet, vicar of
‘St. Sulpice at Paris, sometimes dis-
bursed ‘he sum of a million of livres in
charities in a single year. When there
was a general dearth in 1725, he sold,
in order to relieve the poor, his house-
hold goods, his pictures, and some curi-
ous pieces of furniture that he had pro-
cured with great difficulty.
89. Self-denying Beneficenoe, shown by the
Pooh
(a) PEGGY AND THE ONE-
POUND NOTE.-—Peggy had been

—-.‘
consigned by her dying mother in Ire-
land to the care of an individual, whc
brought her up as her servant, bestow.
ing upon her only clothes and food as
her wages. Her residence with this
person led to Peggy’s attendance on the
ministry of the gospel. It met, in her
case, with a heart prepared by Divine
influence to receive it: she imbibed it
as the thirsty earth the shower. Her
appearance became altered, and her
whole demeanour highly improved.
Her mistress, finding her services in-
creasingly valuable, and fearing that
the temptation to high wages might
effect a separation, proffered, of her own
accord, to give her a small yearly
salary. For this she was truly thank-
ful, and some months having elapsed,
she came to me, says a Christian minis-
ter in London, one evening after service,
apparently with great joy, and slipped
a piece of paper into my hand--it was
a one-pound note. “Peggy,” said I,
“what is this “I” “Your reverence,”
said she, “it is the first pound that I
could ever call my own since I was
born. And what willI do with it? Ah!
will I forget my country ?—-No :—-it is
for poor Ireland——-it is for my country-
men to have the blessed, blessed gospel
preached to them.” I admired her dis-
interestedness, but thought the sacrifice
too great, as I knew she must want
such a sum for very important purposes.
“Peggy,” said I, “ it is too much for
you to give ; I cannot take it.” “ Oh,
your reverence,” she replied, with her
characteristic energy, “if you refuse it,
I would not sleep for a fortnight ;” and
she went away, leaving the money in
my hand, and exclaiming, “ God bless
my poor country with the ministry of
the gospel.”
How much does her liberality out-
shine that of many I
(I2) THE NEGRESS AND HER
NURSE.——A young lady, a visitor of
a Bible Association in New-York, found
her way to an obscure cellar, where
she discovered a colored woman far
gone in a consumption, with her aged
husband sitting by her bed-side, and
another colored woman, about the age
of forty, acting in the capacity of nurse
and servant. The young lady told them
82
SELF-DFNYING BENEFICENCE-—SHOWN BY THE POOR.
W
39
her business. When the sick woman
heard that.she came on an errand of
mercy, her withered and sickly coun-
tenance assumed an unwonted glow and
brightness. After expressing a stead-
fast hope of salvation through the merits
of the Savior, she gave the following
epitome of her life. But a few years
before she was a slave in New Orleans:
by industry and economy, she and her
husband were enabled to purchase their
freedom; and in the course of two or
three years to lay up about 400 dollars.
Sitting at the door of a cottage one morn-
ing, she heard that a number of slaves
were to be sold by auction that day.
She determined to go and see the sale,
and, if possible, to buy one of the fe-
male captives, and restore her to liberty.
“I have.so much money,” said she,
“and if I can make it the instrument
of redeeming one of my fellow beings
from slavery, then I can say to my
soul, depart in peace.” She went and
purchased one for 250 dollars. “But
now,” said she, “I must place her un-
der the ministry of the gospel.” She
took a passage for herself, her husband,
and her liberated friend, for New-York.
When they landed, she said, “Now
you are in a free state, where the pri-
vileges of the gospel are enjoyed; all
thatl ask for my kindness to you is,
that you endeavor to seek the favor of
God. If you live with me, and with
me work for your support,I shall he
rejoiced; you are at liberty to do as
you please.” The liberated woman
accepted her invitation, and was found
by the young lady, acting as her de-
liverer’s nurse; and enjoying with
her the privileges of that heavenly citi-
zenship in which there is neither bond
nor free, but all are one in Christ Jesus.
Let us cease to eulogize those who have
contributed of their abundance for the
relief of the wretched; here was an
aged, illiterate, degraded daughter of
Africa, who gave her all to promote
the salvation of one soul.
(0) NOT RICH BUT GENEROUS.
—-A correspondent of the Philadelphia
Native American, writes as follows :
The last time I was in Boston, in
passing down- Hanover, below Fleet-
street, I saw a son of Africa sitting on

a pile of wood just sawed, and eating,
apparently with a keen relish, some
fragments of bread which had just been
given him for his work. I should pro-
bably have passed him without furthei
notice, had I not been struck with the
appearance of a woman who was stand-
ing a little distance from him, and
watching his operations with eager in-
terest. She was a white woman, dressed
in the thin garb of poverty, who, in spite
of her emaciated and care-worn coun-
tenance, looked like one who had seen
better days. Curious to know what
interest she could take in his movements,
I stopped a moment to watch them.
The wood-sawyer, noticing her fixed
look, asked her what she wanted.
Pointing to his meal, spread upon the
log, she replied, “I have not eaten so
much as that in two weeks.”
“Well, sit down here, and take a
bite,” said the kind-hearted negro;
“although I ain’t rich, 1 am generous.”
YVith tears in her eyes, that seemed
just before already scaled up from weep-
ing, she drew near the humble table.
I did not interfere to deprive the wood-
sawyer of the pleasure of completing
his generous act (for generous it was in
him to share his only meal with another),
but after privately slipping a piece of
money into the poor woman’s hand, I
continued my walk.
Butl could not shut out the scene
from my thoughts, and the words of the
African, “ not rich but generous,” kept
ringing in my ears. If riches consist in
the means of happiness, what a fund of
wealth has a man, whom God has blessed
with a sympathizing heart: for where
is there greater happiness than in bless-
ing another! Many a man that prefaced
his sumptuous dinner with a long
grace, found no richer blessings at his
table, that day, than did the wood-saw-
yer upon his log.
(d) THE SICK MAN’S GIFT.-—
The Rev. Mr. Holmes, at a Home Mis-
sionary meeting in New-York, related
the following circumstance :--—
Being appointed an agent of this
society, I visited one of the towns of
Massachusetts, and was accompan ed
by the minister to a wretched hovel a‘
some distance from the village. It ap-
83
39
BENEFICENCE.
peared scarcely habitable. We entered,
and my name and message were an-
nounced to an old and very feeble man,
who was lying on a bed of sickness,
and, as it proved, of death. His aged
wife was also bow/ing down over the
grave. “Before you speak of the
agency,” said the old man, “ I wish you
to pray with me ; for I am very feeble
and full of pain.” His request was
granted, and the agency afterwards in-
troduced. “My wife,” said the aged
Christian, “ I think we cannot do much,
but we must do something for this object.
How much shall we give 'Z’’ The feeble
woman replied. “I shall approve of
whatever you think proper.” “ Then
go,” said the dying saint, “ and bring
ten dollars.” She went, returned, and
stooping down over the wretched, hard
bed, said, “ Mr. VI/‘ell, I’ve brought fif-
teen dollars, and there’ s enough left to
pay for the flour and those other little
things.” O sir, said Mr. Holmes, thatl
could bring the hovel and the bed, and
the man and his wife, and place them
here before the eyes of this vast assem-
bly, and we should never scarcely need
to ask for more money.
(e) THE HOTTENTOT’S GIFT.
--In the year 1813, says the Rev. J.
Campbell, after having visited several
nations in the interior of Afiica, beyond
the colony of the Cape of Good Hope,
when returning, I halted at the town of
Paarl, within thirty-six miles of Cape
Town. Here I was requested by friends
to relate publicly the state of the nations
in the interior of Africa. About one
wndred free persons, with some slaves,
attended. At the close, several hundred
rlxdollars were contributed by the white
friends present for the Missionary So-
ciety.
After the whites had all left the house,
a slave woman and her daughter called
upon me, and said, “ Sir, will you take
any thing from a poor slave, to help to
send the gospel to the poor things be-
yond us '2” On my saying, “Most
certainly I will,” she gave me eight-
pence, and her daughter fourpence.
Having done so, they hastily went out,
clapping their hands, and ran to some
slave men who were waiting to hear the
result. On hearing from her that I

F-—-I Mn
cheerfully took subscriptions from slav es
they rushed into my room, and every
one threw down all that he had, to send
the gospel to the poor things beyond
them I
The immediate cause of this was—-
their masters had lately built a place of
worship for them, where missionaries.
when they happened to be in the town,
preached to them; and some of their
masters would at times read a sermon
to them. These tastes of instruction
made them desirous that the nations be-
yond should be favored with the same
advantage.
(f) THE INDIAN BROOM-MA.
KER.—Mr. Hooper, one of the assist-
ant missionaries to the Choctaw Nation,
relates in his journal the following af-
fecting instance of benevolence while
at Steubenville :-“ What most of all
affected our hearts was, that a poor Af-
rican, who, it is believed, is a devout
servant of God, came forward, and gave
a coat, obtained by making brooms after
performing his task in the field. Mr.
M ’Curdy informed us, that both that man
and his wife are praying souls. They
are slaves. O I is it not truly animating,
is it not enough to touch the tenderest
sensibilities of the soul, to see an Ethi-
opian in such circumstances, thus moved
at hearing the Macedonian cry, and
thus extending the hand of charity ’!
Should every professed disciple of Christ
make such sacrifices as did this poor
African, at no distant period would the
precious gospel be preached to all nations.
(g) TI-IE GREENLANDERS’ DO-
N ATION.—-In a very early period of
the Moravian mission in Greenland, the
Christian natives of that country were
told of the demolition of the Indian con-
gregation at Gnadenhutten, in Pennsyl-
vania ; they wept bitterly, and at once
commenced efibrts for their relief. One
said, “ I have a fine reindeer skin,
which I will give.” Another, “ And I
a pair of new reindeer boots, which I
will send.” “ And I,” said a third,
“ will send them a seal, that they may
have something to eat and to burn.”
Their contributions were accepted and
sent. Their hearts had been shut by
avarice, but the grace of Christ opened
them.
84
5
SELF -DENYING BENEFICENL/E—SHOWN BY THE POOR.
39
(h) THE MINISTER’S WIFE
AND THE MONUMENT.—A min-
ister in Illinois, on receiving the sad
news that the Ceylon missionaries had
been obliged, in consequence of the
curtailment of funds, to dismiss five
thousand scholars from their schools,
and that twenty-five dollars would re-
suscitate a school, resolved to try and
raise that sum in his society.
They were a little band, and had
already done what they thought they
could for Foreign Missions.
He went before his people, related the
melancholy intelligence, and told them
that he would give five dollars, if they
could raise the remaining twenty. The
sum was contributed in a few minutes.
He then went home and informed his
partner of the result. He found that
she, too, had been revolving in her mind
how she could raise a similar sum.
“Well,” said her husband, “ if you
will give up one gratification, you may.”
It seems they had recently lost a child,
and had sent on an order to New-York
for a tombstone, which would cost twen-
ty-five dollars. He proposed to dispense
with it. Trying though this was to her
maternal feelings, she immediately con-
sented, saying that the living children
demanded her money more than the
one that was dead.
The order was countermanded, and
a school in Ceylon was, of course, re-
suscitated.
(2') SKELTON AND HIS BOOKS.
-—The salary of the Rev. Philip Skelton,
an Irish clergyman, arising from the
discharge of his ministerial duties and
from tuition, was very small; and yet
he gave the larger part of it away,
scarcely allowing himself to appear in
decent clothing. Returning one Lord’ s
day from public worship, he came to a
calnn where an awful fire had occurred.
Two children had been burnt to death,
and a third showed but faint signs of
life. Seeing the poor people had no
linen with which to dress the child’s
sores, he tore his linen from his back
piece by piece for their use ; and cheer-
fully submitted to the inconvenience to
which it exposed him. Some time after
this, when a scarcity of food was felt
around him, he sold his library, though

(-
his books were the only companions of
his solitude, and spent the money in the
purchase of provisions for the poor.
Some ladies hearing of this, sent him
fifty pounds, that he might again obtain
several of his most valued works ; but
while he gratefully acknowledged their
kindness, he said he had dedicated the
books to God, and then applied the fifty
pounds also to the relief of the poor.
( THE DAUGI-ITER’S POR-
TION—The Rev. Mr. Rogers, of this
country, attended by an officer of the
church, called one morning at the
house of an excellent woman a wid-
ow, who had recently lost, by death,
a pious and beloved daughter. As her
circumstances were narrow, httle was
expected from her. Indeed they called
upon her chiefly to testify their respect,
and to avoid the imputation of either
forgetting her person, or despising her
mite. To their great surprise, however,
when their errand was made known, she
presented to them, with much prompt-
ness and cordiality, a sum which, for
her, was very large——so large, indeed,
that they felt and expressed some scru-
ples about accepting it it. She put an
end to the difficulty, by saying, with
much decision, “ You must take it all :
[had laid it up as a portion for my
daughter ; and I am determined that He
who has my daughter shall have her
portion too.”
(Ir) REV. JOHN \VESLEY’S
PLATE—HIS BENEVOLENCE.——-
In the year 1776, the Rev. John \Vesley
received the following letter, in conse-
quence of a recent resolution of the
government, that circulars should be
sent to all persons who were suspected
of having plate, on which they had not
paid duty :—
“ Reverend Sir,—As the commission-
ers cannot doubt that you have plate for
which you have hitherto neglected to
make an entry, they have directed me
to send you a copy of the lords’ order.
and to inform you that they expect that
you forthwith make the entry of all
your plate, such entry to bear date
from the commencement of the plate
duty, or from such time as you have
owned, used, had, or kept any quantity
of silver plate, chargeable by the act
85
39
BENEFICENCE.
of pazlmnent; as in default thereof,
the ooard will be obliged to signify your
refusal to their lordships.
“ N. B. An immediate answer is de-
siren."
Mr. ~Ziresley replied as follows :-
“Sir,-—I have two silver tea-spoons
at London, and two at Bristol: this is
all the plate which I have at present;
and I shall not buy any more while so
many around me want bread. Iam,
s1r, your most humble servant,
“ JOHN WESLEY.”
Perhaps there never was a more
cxaritable man than Mr. I/Vesley. His
li. erality knew no bounds, but an empty
p.eket. He gave away not merely a
certain part of his income, but all that
he had: his own wants being provided
for, he devoted all the rest to the neces-
sittes of others. He entered upon this
good work at a very early period. We
are told, that when he had thirty pounds
a vear, he lived on twenty-eight, and
g-.-e away forty shillings. The next
year, receiving sixty pounds, he still lived
on twenty-eight, and gave away two-
and-thirty. The third ycarhe received
ninety pounds, and gave away sixty-two.
The fourth year he received one hun-
dred and twenty pounds. Still he lived
on twenty-eight, and gave to the cor
ninety-two. During the rest of his life
he lived economically ; and, in the
course of fifty years, it has been sup-
posed, he gave away more than thirty
thousand pounds.
(Z) LAVATER HELPING A
POOR WVOMAN.—The following is
an extract from the private diary of the
Rev. J. C. Lavater, of Zurich, in Swit-
zerland, dated January 2d, 1769 :—
My wife asked me, during dinner,
what sentiment I had chosen for the
day. “ Give to him that asketh thee ;
and from him that would borrow turn
not thou away.” “Pray, how is this
to he understood '2” said she. “ Liter-
ally : we must take the words as if we
heard Jesus Christ himself pronounce
them. I am the steward, not the pro-
prietor of my possessions.”
Just as I arose from dinner, a widow
desired to speak to me. “You will
excl ~se me, dear sir,” said she, “I must
pay my rent, and I am six dollars

short. Ihave been ill a whole month,
and could scarcely keep my children
from starving. I have laid by every
penny, butI am six dollars short, and
must have them to-day or to-morrow ;
pray hear me, dear sir.” Here she
presented me a book enchased with sil-
ver. “My late husband,” said she,
“ gave it to me when we were betrothed.
I part with it with reluctance. and knew
not when I can redeem it. O, dear sir,
cannot you assist me '2” “My poor
woman, indeed I cannot.” So saying,
I put my hand in my pocket, and touch-
ed my money: it was about two dollars
and a half. “It won’t do,” said I to
myself; “and if it would, I shall want
it." “Have you no friend, ” said I,“ who
would give you such a trifle '2” “ No,
not a soul living; and I do not like to
go from house to house ; I would rather
work whole nights. I have been told
that you are a good-natured gentleman ;
and if you cannot u.SSISt, you will, I
hope, excuse me for having given you
so much trouble. I will try how I can
extricate myself; God has never for-
saken me; and I hope he will not begin
to turn his back on me in my 76th
year.” The same moment my wife
entered the room.
I was—-O thou traitorous heart !—
I was angry, ashamed, and should have
been glad if I could have sent her away
under some pretext or other, for my
conscience whispered to me, “ Give to
him that asketh thee.” My wife, too,
whispered irresistibly in my car, “She
is a pious, honest woman; she has cer-
tainly been ill ; assist her if you can.”
“I have no more than two dollars,”
said I, “and she wants six; how, there-
fore, can I answer her demand'2 I will
give her something, and send her away.”
My wife squeezed my hand tenderly,
smiling, and beseeching me by he: looks.
She then said aloud, what my con-
science had whispered to me before:
“Give to him that asketh thee; and
turn not away from him who would
borrow of thee.” I smiled, and asked
her whether she would give her ring
in order to enable me to do it. “ Witli
great pleasure,” said she, pulling off
her ring. The old woman was either
too simple to observe this, or too modest
86
BENEFICENCE WITH RULE. AND SYSTEM.
39, 49

r’
to take advantage of it : however, when
she was going, my wife told her to wait
a little in the passage. “Were you in
earnest, my dear, when you offered your
ring '2” said I, as soon as we were in
private. “I am surprised that you can
ask that question ; do you think I sport
with charity '2 Remember what you
said a quarter of an hour ago. You
have been always so benevolent, and
why are you now backward in assisting
that poor woman? VVhy did you not
give her what money you had in your
purse? Do you not 'now that there
are six dollars in your bureau, and that
it will be quarter-day in ten days 2”
I pressed my wife to my bosom, and
dropped a tear. “ You are more right-
eous than I ! Keep your ring; you
have made me blush !” I then went to
the bureau, and took the six dollars.
When I was going to open the door, to
call the widow, I was seized with her-
ror because I had said, “I cannot
help you.”—-O, thou traitorous tongue !
thou deceitful heart I—-‘‘ There, take
the money,” said I, “which you want.”
She seemed at first to suppose it was
only a small contribution, and kissed
my hand. But when she saw the six
dollars, her astonishment was so great,
that for a moment she could not speak.
She then said, “ How shall I thank you?
I cannot repay you ; I have got nothing
but this poor book, and it is old.” “Keep
your book and the money,” said I, “ and
thank God, and not me. Indeedl do
not deserve it, because I have hesitated
so long to assist you. Go, and say not
one word more.”
(nz) BENEVOLENCE OF JOHN
FOX.—-John Fox, the celebrated author
of the “ Book of Martyrs,” was re-
markable for his liberality to the poor.
VV hat was sometimes offered him by
the rich, ( for he was himself sometimes
distressed.) he accepted, but immediate-
ly gave it to those who had less than
himself. So entirely did he give of
his goods to the poor, that when he died,
he possessed no ready money. This
benevolence was mamtained by a sense
of the love of Christ, and was shown
with a view to his glow. A friend once
inquiring of him, if he recollected a
poor man, whom he was accustomed to


F
relieve, he replied, “Yes,I remember
him well, and would willingly forget
lords and ladies to remember such as
him.”
40. Beneficence with Rule and System.
(a) OBERLIN’S PRACTICE.--
John Frederic Oberlin, a minister of
the Gospel in France, happening to
read one day, with more attention than
usual, the accounts of the tithes in the
Books of Moses, was so struck with
some of them, as to resolve from that
moment to devote three tithes of all he
possessed to the service of God and the
poor. The resolution was no sooner
made than put into execution, for what-
ever Oberlin conceived it to be his duty
to do, he conscientiously and without
delay set about it. From that period
till the end of his life, even during the
most calamitous seasons of the Revolu-
tion, he always scrupulously adhered
to the plan, and often said that he
abounded in wealth.
(b) MRS. GRAHAM’S PRACTICE.
--Mrs. Graham, of New-York. made it
a rule to appropriate a tenth part of her
earnings to be expended for pious and
charitable purposes; she had taken a
lease of two lots of ground. in Green-
wich-street, from the Corporation of Tri-
nity Church, with the view of building
a house on them for her own accommo-
dation: the building, however. she never
commenced: by a sale which her son-
in-law, Mr. Bethune, made of the lease
in 1795, for her, she got an advance of
one thousand pounds. So large a profit
was new to her. “Quick, quick,” said
she, “let me appropriate the tenth be-
fore my heart grows hard.” VV hat
fidelity in duty l \Vhat distrust of her-
self! Fifty pounds of this money she
sent to Mr. Mason, in aid of the funds
he was collecting for the establishment
of a theological seminary.
(0) MR. COBB’S COVENANT.—-
Nathaniel Ripley Cobb, of Boston, dis-
played the character of a Christian
merchant in all its varieties of excel-
lence. He was one of the few noble-
hearted men of wealth whose afliuence
is constantly proved by their munifi-
ence. Yet it was not always from what
87
40
BENEFICENCE.
- av--0 Q’

is strictly denominated affluence that he
was so benevolent, inasmuch as the
vows of God were upon him that he
would never become rich; and he re-
deemed the holy pledge which he had
gwen, by consecrating his gains to the
Lord. In November, 1821, he drew
up the following remarkable docu-
ment:—-
“ By the grace of God, I will never
be worth more than fifty thousand dol-
lars.
“By the grace of God I will give
one-fourth of the nett profits of my
business to charitable and religious uses.
“If I am ever worth twenty thou-
sand dollars, I will give one half of my
nett profits ; and if I am ever worth
thirty thousand, I will give three-
fourths; and the whole after fifty thou-
sand dollars. 1
“ So help me God ; or give to a more
faithful steward, and set me aside. N.
R. Cobb, Nov. 1821.”
He adhered to this covenant with
strict fidelity. At one time, finding his
property had increased beyond fifty
thousand dollars, he at once devoted the
surplus, seven thousand five hundred,
as a foundation for a professorship in
the Newton Institution for the edu-
cation of Christian ministers, to which,
on various occasions during his short
life, he gave at least twice that amount.
He was a generous friend to many
young men, whom he assisted in estab-
lishing themselves in business, and to
many who were unfortunate.
(ti) DR- VVRIGI-IT’S PRACTICE.
—-Of Doctor Samuel Wright, it is said,
that his charity was conducted upon
rule; for which purpose he kept a-
purse, in which was found this memo-
randum: “Something from all the mo-
ney I receive to be put into this purse
for charitable uses. From my salary
as minister, which is uncertain, a tenth
part; from occasional and extraordinary
gifts, which are more uncertain, a twen-
tieth part; from copy money of things
I print, and interest of my estate, a
seventh part.”
(e) THE BEE-I-IIVE AND THE
WALNUT TREE.--The following
account is related by Mr. Charles
Stokes Dudley, of England:
86

At one of the meetings for the circu-
lation of the Scriptures, held in Dorset-
shire, in 1833, a clergyman, from a
distant county, related a circumstance
which had fallen under his own im
mediate observation. A young farmer
and his wife, having attended a meeting
for the establishment of an auxiliary
society, and another held in the evening
of the same day for the fbrmation of a.
ladies’ association, became much in-
terested in the object. On returning
home, the wife expressed her earnest
desire to subscribe a guinea a year to
the female branch of the institution ; to
which her husband replied, that having
become himself a contributor of the
same sum to the auxiliary society, he
thought they could scarcely afford two
guineas a year. His wife reminded
him that he had given her, a few days
before, a guinea to purchase a hive of
bees, which she had not yet bought;
and that she should much prefer giving
the money to the Bible Association. To
this arrangement he consented. On the
following day, a swarm of bees settlec
on a tree in their garden, and was soon
safely hived. Struck with the circum-
stance, they immediately determined
that the entire produce of those bees,
and of the successive swarms from the
hive, should be annually contributed to
the Bible Society. The circumstance
occurred in 1829. In 1830, the sum of
£2 was contributed: in 1831, it increas-
ed to £10 ; last year it was £8 ; and, this
year, they fully expected it would be
£10 again, if not more.
I had a speedy proof that the relatior
of this little fact was not in vain. A
friend of ours who was present, and un-
der whose hospitable roof I was staying,
observing me, on the following morning,
admiring a noble walnut tree in his
garden, whispered, “That tree belongs
to the Bible Society; my wife and I
have just dedicated it.” I am happy
to say, I never saw a tree better laden
in my life.
(f) FINLEY AND THE AGENT.
--“ It is true I have but little to give,”
said Dr. Finley to an agent, “ but I con-
sider it a privilege and an honor, so far
as the Lord allows, to have something,
if it be but a single nail, in every edifice
that is going up for Christ.”
BENEFICENCE 1/VITH INDUSTRY AND FRUGALITY.
41
(g) DOING SOMETHING EVERY
WHERE.-—-At one of the anniversaries
in London Rev. Richard Knill said :
When I used to travel for the London
Iviissionary Society, I went to Peterbor-
ough. A farmer there had read the re-
port of that society. He found that we
had 123 missionaries. He sent to Mr.
Arundel to say, “ I have a great desire to
hit out something new .” I question
whether any member of Parliament
would have hit it. He said, “I am de-
termined to have something to do with
every tract distributed, every sermon
preached, every school established ; and
for this purpose I will give a sovereign
for each of the missionaries. Here is a
check for £123, in order to do some-
thing all over the world.” That is what
I call an enlarged idea. But in the
mean time another report came out, and
stated that 13 new missionaries had
been sent forth. “Well,” said he, “I am
determined to keep it up 5” and he gave
another £13.
41. Beneficence with Industry and Fru-
gality.
(a) THE MISER OF MAR-
SElLLES.—-An old man, of the name
of Guyot, lived and died in the town of
Marseilles, in France. He amassed a
large fortune by the most laborious indus-
try, and the severest habits of abstinence
and privation. His neighbors consid-
ered him a miser, and thought that he
was hoarding up money from mean and
avaricious motives. The populace pur-
sued him, whenever he appeared, with
hootings and execrations, and the boys
sometimes threw stones at him. He at
length died, and in his will were found
the following words :—--“ Having observ-
ed from my infancy that the poor of Mar-
seilles are ill supplied With water, which
can only be purchased at a great price,
I have cheerfully labored the whole of
my life to procure for them this great
blessing ; and I direct that the whole of
my property shall be laid out in build-
ing an aqueduct for their use.”
(6) SAVING A PENNY A YVEEK.
-— My monthly missionary meeting,
writes a clergyman in the Missionary
Register for 1817, is, indeed, delightful.

You would be highly gratified at wit-
nessing the earnest prayers that are
there offered up in behalf of the poor
heathen, the interest produced by read-
ing the missionary anecdotes, and the
uncommon readiness and willingness,
in the poor people, to contribute their
pence towards so glorious a cause.
One of the poorest women (yet one of
the richest in the true sense) in the
parish, was heard to say, that she would
give her penny a week, if she took it
from her food; and she has literally
been as good as her word ; for though
tea was her only beverage, and ofter.
her only meal, she has for some months
deprived herself of sugar, in order to
contribute her penny, which she does
with great regularity every week. But
not content with this, as she obtains a
livelihood by going about with a basket
which contains needles, cotton. etc., she
begged me to write a few lines to au-
thorize her to receive any mite which
she could collect in her daily travels
from house to house, that she might
have a chance of getting a penny, even
where she could not sell her needles;
and, indeed,I think I may safely say
that she is not more gratified when she
takes sixpence for herself, than when
she receives a penny for the missionary
fund. By this means she generally
brings in about three shillings every
month, in addition to her own fourpente.
Such an instance shames many.
True charity begins only with self-
denial.
(c) I WILL SPIN ONE MORE
HANK.--At a meeting held with the
view of forming an auxiliary society in
aid of Christian missions, the following
anecdote was related by one of the
speakers: A woman of VVakefield,well
known to be in very needy circumstan-
ces, offered to subscribe a penny a
week to the missionary fund. “ Surely
you,” said one, “ are too poor to afford
this.” She replied, “I spin so many
hanks of yarn for a maintenance;
I will spin one more, and that will be a
penny for the society.” “Iwould
rather,” said the speaker, “ see that
hank suspended in the poor woman’s
cottage, a token of her zeal for the tri-
umph of the gospel, than military tro.
9
41
B ENEFICENCE.
--— -~_‘.‘-'.

-_
phies in the halls of heroes, the proud
memorials of victories obtained over
the physical strength of men 1”
(cl) A REFORMED DRUNK-
ARD’S GIFT.——A religious society in
Yorkshire (Eng.) had twenty guineas
brought to them by a man in low cir-
cumstances of life. Doubting whether
it was consistent with his duty to his
family and the world, to contribute such
a sum, they hesitated to receive it, when
ne answered to the following effect :--
“ Before I knew the grace of our Lord,
I was a poor drunkard: I never could
save a shilling; my family were in
beggary and rags; but since it has
pleased God to renew me by his grace,
we have been industrious and fiugal;
we have not spent many idle shillings,
and we have been enabled to put some-
thing into the bank, and this I freely
offer to the blessed cause of our Lord
and Saviour/’—--This was the second
donation from the individual to the same
amount.
(6) THE MOUNTAIN FARMER.
—-An agent soliciting funds for a cer-
tain benevolent object, called upon the
minister of a poor country town, made
known his object, and inquired of that
minister, whether there were any indi-
viduals in his parish, who would con-
tribute for that object. The minister
answered, “ No.” Then, checking him-
self, he said, “We have, however, one
man who considers himself as a steward
of the property of God. Perhaps he
would give something. You will find
him upon the mountain, yonder.” The
agent toiled up the steep ascent, and
approached his dwelling. It was built
of logs, and its door was opened by a
leather string. He entered and made
known the object of his visit. “We
have,” said the benevolent farmer, “ for
several years considered all the products
of our farm, above what is necessary
for the supply of our own wants, as the
Lo1d’s property, to be devoted to some
good object. We have so disposed of
the whole this year, excepting one ar-
ticle, that is our cheese. It may be
worth twenty or twenty-five dollars.
We had not determined to what object
to devote it. We will give you that.”
This man, living in his cabin of legs,

and cultivating a small farm upon the
mountain, was accustomed to give for
purposes of benevolence, about three
hundred dollars yearly.
(f) A NUMEROI‘ -.1 FAMILY.-~
A pious gentleman :3”: ~—-——, was en-
gaged in a certain branch of business
by which he was rapidly increasing his
wealth. When he ha made about
$50,000, Rev. Mr. was one day
conversing with him, and asked if he
had not accumulated property enough
for his family, and if he had not now
better give up that kind of business?
“ Oh,” said he, “I have not yet made
enough to give each of my children a
single leaf of the Catechz'sm.” “ Why,”
inquired the clergyman, “how large
is your family?” “ About six hundred
millions,” was his reply. He looks on
the whole family of man as his own
family, and he is laboring for the salva-
tion of them all.
(g) CROUMBIE’S CARE FOR BUSI-
N ESS.——The late Mr. John Croumbie,
of Haddington (Eng.), some time before
his death, calling on one of his custom-
ers, his friend said unto him, “I am
sure, Mr. Croumbie, you need not care
for business.” He replied, “ It is true,
Mrs. ,but if I were to give over
business, I would not be so able to assist
the various societies that are formed for
diffusing the knowledge of the gospel
throughout the world.” The same ex-
cellent person, in his last illness, after
expressing his surprise that some Chris-
tians kept back from the support of these
institutions, said with peculiar emphasis,
“O how I pity the poor heathen, who
have nothing to support their minds in
the prospect of ezfernzly !” His feelings
were evidently excited by his own situa-
tion, and a conviction of the misery he
would feel, if his mind had not been
supported by the gospel in the near
prospect of entering into an eternal
state.
(h) THE UNEXPECTED DON A.
TION.-—When the money to build Be-
thlehem hospital was being collected,
those who were employed to solicit
donations, went to a small house, the
door of which being half opened, they
overheard the master, an old man,
scolding his fema'e servant fbr hating


90
BENEFICENCE WITH PROMPTITUDE.
\ -.- -——-
42
thrown away a match without using
both ends. After diverting themselves
Isome time with the dispute, they pre-
sented themselves before the old gentle-
man, and stated the object of their visit;
though, from what had just passed, they
entertained very little hope of success.
The supposc J miser, however, no sooner
understood their business than he step-
ped into a closet, from whence he
brought a bag, and counted out four
lrundred guineas, which he presented
to them. N o astonishment could exceed
that of the collectors at this unexpected
occurrence; they expressed their sur-
prise, and told the old gentleman that
they had overheard his quarrel with his
servant. “Gentlemen,” said he, “your
surprise is occasioned by a thing of very
little consequence. I keep house and
save money in my own way ; the first
furnishes me with the means of doing
the other. With regard to benevolent
donations, you may always expect most
from prudent people who keep their
uWl'1 accounts.” ‘When he had thus
addressed them, he requested them to
withdraw without the smallest ceremony,
to prevent which he shut the door, not
thinking, probably, so much of the four
hundred guineas which he had just
given away, as of the match which had
been carelessly thrown into the fire.
4%. Bencfiteate with Promptitude.
(a) THORNTON AND THE
POOR CLERGYMAN.——The late Mr.
Thornton was applied to, by a respect-
able clergyman, for some pecuniary as-
sistance. Mr. Thornton having listened
to his story, immediately gave him a
draft for fifteen pounds.
Whilst the grateful clergyman was
still with him, the post letters arrived,
and Mr. Thornton begged him not to
go till he should see if he had received
any news which might interest him.
He began, accordingly, to read one of
his letters, and, after a considerable
pause, said to his friend, “Here is a
letter, conveying bad news indeed ; I
have lost a very valuable ship, and cer-
tainly my loss cannot be less than £20,-
000. You must return me that draft, my
dear sir . and to prove that I do not de-
’
ceive you, read the letter which I have
just received.
What could the poor clergyman do‘!
He recalled to mind the condition ofhis
starving and sickly wife and children,
and anticipated the grievous disappoint-
ment which his returning from Mr.
Thornton without assistance would oc-
casion. However, with a heavy heart
he handed the draft back to Mr. T.,
and bctook himself to read the letter,
by way of concealing his distressed
countenance. He soon perceived the
loss was even greater than Mr. T. had
mentioned, and all his hooes died away.
In the meantime Mr. Thornton had
been writing, and when the letter was
returned to him, he said, “ You see, my
dear sir, how unpleasantly I am situ-
ated; however here is another paper,
which I desire you will put in your
pocket. The poor, hopeless clergyman
took it, and opening it, found a draft
for fifty pounds. He looked at Mr. T.,
as if doubting the evidence of his senses,
but Mr. T. replied, “ My dear sir, as
the Almighty seems determined to de-
prive me of that wealth which he gave,
and which he has so good aright to take
away, I must be speedy, therefore, to
give while it is in my possession.”
(6) LOSING, BUT LIBERAL.-A
wealthy merchant, having lost by one
shipwreck, to the value of £1500, or-
dered his clerk to distribute £100
among poor ministers and people ; add-
ing, that if his fortune was going by
£1500 at a lump, it was high time to
make sure of some part of it before it
was gone.
(e) DR. I/VILSON AND THE
POOR CLERGYi\IAN.—The benevo-
lent Dr. VVilson once discovered a cler-
gyman at Bath, who, he was informed,
was sick, poor, and had a numerous
family. In the evening he gave a
friend fifty pounds, requesting him to
deliver it in the most delicate manner,
and as from an unknown person. The
friend said, “I will wait upon him early
in the morning.” “ You will oblige me,
sir, by calling directly. Think of what
importance a good night’s rest may be
to that poor man.”
(a) BAXTER’S DELAY AND
I LOSS.-When Mr. Baxter lost a thou-
91
~13
BENEFICENCE.
sand pounds which he had laid up for
the erection of a school, he used fre-
quently to mention the misfortune as an
incitement to be charitable while God
gives the power of bestowing, and con-
sidered himself as culpable in some
degree for having so long delayed the
performance of a good action, and suf-
fered his benevolence to be defeated
for a want of quickness and diligence.
48. Btneficence to Debtors and Robbers.
(a) REV. JOHN WESLEY AND
HIS LIKENESS.--Mr. Dudley was
one evening taking tea with that emi-
ner. artist, Mr. Culy, when he asked him
whether he had seen his gallery of busts.
Mr. Dudley answering in the negative,
and expressing a wish to be gratified
with a sight of it, Mr. Culy conducted
him thither, and after admiring the
busts of the several great men of the
day, he came to one which particularly
attracted his notice, and on inquiry
found it was the likeness of the Rev.
John Wesley. “ This bust,” said Culy,
“struck Lord Shelbourne in the same
manner it does you, and there is a re-
markable fact connected with it, which,
as I know you are fond of anecdote, I
will relate to you precisely in the same
manner and words that I did to him.
‘My lord,’ said I, ‘perhaps you have
heard of John Wesley, the founder of
the Methodists ?’ ‘Oh, yes,’ he re-
plied; ‘ he——that race of fanatics."
‘ Well, my lord ; Mr. VVesley had often
been urged to have his picture taken,
but he always refused, alleging as a
reason that he thought it nothing but
vanity; indeed, so frequently had he
been pressed on this point, that his
friends were reluctantly compelled to
give up the idea. One day he called
on me on the business of our church.
I began the old subject of entreating
him to allow me to take off his likeness.
‘ Well,’ said I, ‘knowing you value
money for the means of doing good, if
you will grant my request, I will en-
gage to give you ton guineas for the
first ten minutes that you sit, and for
every minute that exceeds that time you
shall receive a guinea.’ ‘ I/Vhat I’ said
Mr. Wesley ; ‘ Do I understand you

N
aright, that you will give me ten guineD
for having my picture taken? Well, I
agree to it.’ He then stripped off his
coat, and lay on the sofa, and in eight
minutesl had the most perfect bustl
had ever taken. He then washed his
face, and I counted to him ten guineas
into his hand. ‘ Well,’ said he, turn-
ing to his companion, ‘ I never till now
earned money so speedily; but what
shall we do with it '2’ They then
wished me a good-morning, and pro-
ceeded over Westminster Bridge. The
first object that presented itself to .heir
view was a poor woman crying bitterly,
with three children hanging round her,
each sobbing, though apparemly too
young to understand their mother’s
grief. On inquiring the cause of her
distress, Mr. Wesley learned that the
creditors of her husband were dragging
him to prison, after having sold their
effects, which were inadequate to pay
the debt by eighteen shillings, which the
creditors declared should be paid. One
guinea made her happy! They then
proceeded on, followed by the blessings
of the now happy mother. On Mr. Wes-
ley’s inquiring of Mr. Barton, his friend,
where their charity was most needed, he
replied he knew of no place where his
money would be more acceptable than in
Giltspur-street Compter. They accord-
ingly repaired thither, and on asking
the turnkey to point out the most miser.
able object under his care, he answered,
if they were come in search of poverty,
they need not go far. The first ward
they entered they were struck with the
appearance of a poor wretch who was
greedily eating some potato skins. On
being questioned, he informed them that
he had been in that situation, supported
by the casual alms of compassionate
strangers, for several months, without
any hope of release, and that he was
confined for the debt of half a guinea.
On hearing this, Mr. Wesley gave him
a guinea, which he received with the
utmost gratitude, and he had the plea-
sure of seeing him liberated with half
a guinea in his pocket. The poor man,
on leaving his place of confinement,
said, ‘ Gentlemen, as you came here in
search of poverty, pray go up stairs, if
it he not too late.’ They instantly pro-
92
BENEFICENCE TO DEBTORS AND ROBBERS.
43
’.-1
seeded thither, and beheld a sight which
called forth all their compassion. On
a low stool, with his back towards them,
sat a man, or rather a skeleton, for he
was literally nothing but skin and bone ;
his hand supported his head, and his
eyes seemed to be riveted on the opposite
corner of the chamber, where lay
stretched out on a pallet of straw a
young woman, in the last stage of con-
sumption, apparently lifeless, with an
infant by her side, which was quite
dead. Mr. Wesley immediately sent
for medical assistance, but it was too
late for the unfortunate female, who
expired a few hours afterwards from
starvation, as the doctor declared. You
may imagine. my lord, that the remain-
ing eight guineas would not go far in
aiding such distress as this. No ex-
pense was spared for the relief of the
new only surviving sufferer. But so ex-
treme was the weakness to which he was
reduced, that six we,el.'s elapsed before
he could speak sufiiciently to relate his
own history. It appeared that he had
been a reputable merchant, and had mar-
ried a beautiful young lady, eminently
accomplished, whom he almost idolized.
They lived happily together for some
time, until, by fa‘lure of a speculation
in which his whole property was-em-
barked, he was completely ruined. No
sooner did he become acquainted with
his misfortune than he called all his
creditors together, and laid before them
the state of his affairs, showing them
his books, which were in the most per-
fect order. They all willingly signed
the dividend except the lawyer, who
owed his rise in the world to this mer-
chant; the sum was two hundred and
.ifty pounds, for which he obstinately
declared he should be sent to jail. It
was in vain the creditors urged him to
pity his forlorn condition, and to con-
sider his great respectability ; that feel-
ing was a stranger to his breast, and in
spite of all their remonstrances, he was
hurried away to prison, followed by his
weeping wife. As she was very ac-
complished, she continued to maintain
herself and her husband for some time
solely by the use of her pencil, in paint-
ing small ornaments on cards ; and thus
they managed to put a little aside for
the time of her confinement. But so
long an illness succeeded this event, that
she was completely incapacitated from
exerting herself for their subsistence,
and their scanty savings were soon ex-
pended by procuring the necessaries
which her situation then required. They
were driven to pawn their clothes, and
their resources failing, they found them-
selves at last reduced to absolute star-
vation. The poor infant had just ex-
pired from want, and the hapless mother
was about to follow it to the grave when
Mr. Wesley and his friend entered ;
and, as I before said, the husband was
so reduced from the same cause, that,
without the utmost care, he must have
fallen a sacrifice; and as Mr. iVesley,
‘who was not for doing things by halves,
had acquainted himself with this case
of extreme misery, he went to the cre-
ditors and informed them of it. They
were beyond measure astonished to learn
what he had to name to them; for so
long a time had elapsed without hearing
any thing of the merchant or his family,
some supposed him to be dead, and
others that he had left the country.
Among the rest he called on the lawyer,
and painted to him, in the most glowing
colors, the wretchedness he had beheld,
and which he (the lawyer) had been
instrumental in causing; but even this
could not move him to compassion. He
declared the merchant should not leave
the prison without paying him every
farthing! Mr. VVesley repeated his
\ISlt to the other creditors, who, con-
sidering the case of the sufferer, agreed
to raise the sum and release him. Some
gave one hundred pounds, others two
hundred pounds, and another three hun-
dred pounds. The affairs of the mer-
chant took a different turn: God seemed
to prosper him, and in the second year
he called his creditors together, thanked
them for their kindness, and paid the
sum so generously obtained. Success
continuing to attend him, he was ena-
bled to pay all his debts, and afterwards
realized considerable property. His
afliictions made such a deep impression
upon his mind, that de determined to
remove the possibility of others suffer-
ing from the same cause, and for tnis

purpose advanced a considerable sum
93
43
BENEFICENCE.
—_ Q

_ -
as a foundation fund for the relief of
small debtors. And the very first per-
son who partook of the same was the
inexorable lawyer!”
This remarkable fact so entirely con-
vinced Lord Shelbourne of the mistaken
opinion he had formed of Mr. Yvesley,
that he immediately ordered a dozen
of busts to embellish the grounds of his
beautiful residence.
(Z2) ‘vVASHINGTON’S DEBTOR.—
One Reuben Rouzy, of Virginia, owed
the general about one thousand pounds.
While President of the United States, one
of his agents brought an action for the
money ; judgment was obtained, and
execution issuedagainst the body of the
defendant, who was taken to jail. He
had a considerable landed estate, but this
kind of property cannot be sold in Vir-
ginia for debts unless at the discretion
of the person. He had a large family,
and for the sake of his children prefer-
red lying in jail to selling his land. A
friend hinted to him that probably Gen-
eral Washington did not know any thing
of the proceeding, and that it might be
well to send him a petition, with a state-
ment of the circumstances. He did so,
and the very next post from Philadelphia
after the arrival of his petition in that
city brought him an order for his imme-
diate release, together with a full dis-
charge, and a severe reprimand to the
agent for having acted in such a man-
ner. Poor Rouzy was, in consequence,
restored to his family, who never laid
down their heads at night without pre-
senting prayers to Heaven for their
“ beloved Washington.” Providence
smiledupon the labors of the grateful
family, and in a few years Rouzy en-
joyed the exquisite pleasure of being
able to lay the one thousand pounds,
with the interest, at the feet of this truly
gieat man. Washington reminded him
that the debt was discharged; Rouzy
replied, the debt of his family to the
father of their country and preserver of
their parent could never be discharged ;
and the general, to avoid the pressing
importunity of the grateful Virginian,
who would not be denied, accepted the
money, only, however, to divide it
among Rouzy’s children, which he im-
mediately did.

(0) M. DE SALLO AND THE
ROBBER.—-In the year 1662, when
Paris was afflicted with a long and se-
vere famine, Mons.eur de Sallo, return-
ing from a summer evening’s walk ac-
companied with only a page, was accost-
ed by a man who presented his pistol,
and, in a manner far from hardened
resolution, asked him for his money.
M. de Sallo, observing that he came to
the wrong person, and that he could ob-
tain but little from him, added, ‘ I have
but three pistoles, which are not worth
ascufile, so, much good may it do you
with them; but, like a friend, let me
tell you, you are going on in a very
bad way.” The robber took them, and
without asking him for more, walked
away with an air of dejection and terror.
The fellow was no sooner gone than
M. de Sallo ordered his page to follow
the robber, to observe where he went,
and to bring him an account of all he
should discover. The boy obeyed,
pursued him throngh several obscure
streets, and at length saw him enter a
baker’s shop, where he observed him
change one of the pistoles and buy a
large brown loaf; with this salutary pur-
chase the robber went a few doors far-
ther, and, entering an alley, ascended
several flights of stairs. The boy crept
up after him to the topmost story, where
he saw him go into a room which was
no otherwise illuminated than by the
friendly light of the moon; and, peep-
ing through a crevice, he perceived the
wretched man cast the leaf upon the
floor, and, bursting into tears, cry out.
“There. eat your fill ; this is the dear-
est loaf I ever bought; I have robbed a
gentleman of three pistoles; let us hus-
band them well, and let me have no
more toazings; for, soon or late, these
doings must bring me to ruin.” His
wife, having calmed the agony of his
mind, took up the leaf, and, cutting it,
gave four pieces, to four poor starving
children.
The page, having thus performed his
commission, returned home and gave his
master an account of all he had seen
and heard. De Sallo, who was much
moved (what Christian breast can be
unmoved at distress like this I), com-
manded the boy to call him at five the
' 94
BENEFICENCE TO DEBTORS AND ROBBERS.
--
next morning. He rose accordingly,
and took his boy with him to show him
the way: he inquired of his neighbors
the character of a man who lived in
such a garret, with a wife and four
children; by whom he was informed
that he was a very industrious man, a
tender husband, and a quiet neighbor;
that his occupation was that of a shoe-
maker, and that he was a neat work-
man; but was overburdened with a
family, and struggled hard to live in
such dear times. Satisfied with this
account, M. de Sallo ascended to the
shoemaker’s lodging, and, knocking at
the door, it was opened by the unhappy
man himself; who, knowing him at
first sight to be the gentleman whom he
had robbed, prostrated himself at his feet.
M. de Sallo desired him to make no
noise, assuring him he had not the least
intention to hurt him. “You have a
good character,” said he, “ among your
neighbors, but you must expect your
life will be cut short if you are so wick-
ed as to continue the freedoms you took
with me. Hold your hand; here are
thirty pistoles to buy leather; husband
it well. and set your children a laudable
example. To put you out of further
temptations to commit such ruinous and
fatal crimes, I will encourage your in-
dustry. I hear you are a neat workman ;
you shall therefore now take measure
of me and my lad for two pairs of shoes
each, and he shall call upon you for
them.” The whole family seemed
absorbed in joy ; amazement and grati-
tude in some measuredeprived them of
speech. M. de Sallo departed, greatly
moved, and with a mind replete with
satisfaction at having saved a man from
the commission of guilt, from an ignomin-
ious death, and, perhaps, from everlast-
ing misery.
Never was a day much better begun ;
the consciousness of having performed
such an action, whenever it recurs to
the mind, must be attended with pleas-
ure, and that self-complacency which is
more desirable than gold will be ever the
attendant on such truly Christian charit
(d) A ROBBER BEFRIENDED.
—A young man was stopped in a little
street in one of the cities of France;
his purse or his life was demanded. A

43
4“
courageous and sensible heart soon dis-
tinguishes between the voice of the
unfortunate wretch, whom misery drags
to crime, and that of the villain whose
wickedness prompts him to it. The
young man felt that it was an unfortu-
nate person whom he ought to save
“What do you ask, miserable creature
what do you ask '2” said he in an im
posing tone to his aggressor.
“Nothing sir,” answered a sobbing
voice ; “ I ask nothing of you.”
“ \/Vho are you '2 what do you do ?”
“ I am a poor journeyman shoemaker,
without the means of supporting my
wife and four children.”
“I do not know whether you speak
the truth. Where do you live? ”
“In such a street, at a baker’s
house.”
“ We shall see, lead the way.”
The shoemaker awed by his firmness,
led him to his abode as he would have
led him to the bottom of a dungeon.
They arrived at the baker’s. There
was none but a woman in the shop.
“ Madam, do you know this man ?”
“Yes, sir, he is a poor journeyman
shoemaker who lives in the fifth story,
and who has much difiiculty in sustain-
ing his numerous family.”
“How can you let him want bread '2"
“Sir, we are young people, newly
established ; we cannot give much; my
husband does not wish me to give more
than twenty-four cents credit to this
man.”
“ Give him two loaves of bread.
Take these two leaves, and mount to
your room.”
The shoemaker obeys, as much agi-
tated as if he were about to commit some
crime, but in a very different kind of
trouble. They enter. The wife and
children eagerly take the food which is
offered them. The young man has
seen too much. He goes out, after
giving two louis to the baker’s wife,
with orders to supply the family with
bread according to their wants. Some
days after he returns to see the children,
to whom he has given a second life,
and he tells their father to follow him.
He conducts his poor protege into a
shop, well built and well furnished with
tools, and all the necessary materials
95
44
BENEFICENCE.
for working at his trade. “ Would you
he contented and happy if this shop
were yours 2”
“Ah sir, but alas !”
“ What 2”
“I have not the freeman’s right,
and it costs’ ’—
“ Take me to the syndic jury.”
The license was bought, and the
shoemaker placed in the shop.
The author of so fine an act of hu-
manity, was a young man about twenty-
seven years old. It is calculated that
the establishment of this workman cost
him from three to four thousand livres.
He is not known, and useless research-
es have been made to discover him.
44. Miscellaneous Examples.
(a) BAYARD AND HIS HOS-
TESS.—-\/Vhen Bresse was taken by
storm from the Venetians, the Chevalier
Bayard saved a house from plunder
whither he had retired to have a dan-
gerous wound dressed ; and he secured
the mistress of the family and her two
daughters who were hid in it. At his
departure the lady, as a mark of her
gratitude, offered him a casket, contain-
ing two thousand five hundred ducats,
which he obstinately refused; but oh-
serving the refusal was very displeasing
to her, and not caring to leave her dis-
satisfied, he consented to accept of her
present; and calling to him the two
young ladies to take leave of them, he
presented each of them with a thousand
ducats, to be added to their marriage
portion, and left the remaining five
hundred to be distributed among the
inhabitants who had been lundered.
(b) BENEFICENCE OF LUTH-
ER.—Disinterestedness was a leading
feature in the character of Luther:
superior to all selfish considerations, he
left the honors and emoluments of this
world to those who delighted in them.
The poverty of this great man did not
arise from wanting the means of acquir-
ing riches ; for few men have had it in
their power more easily to obtain tnem.
The Elector of Saxony offered him the
produce of a mine at Sneberg; but he
nobly refused it; “Lest,” said he, “I
should tempt the devil, who is lord of

-0
these subterraneous treasures, to tempt
me.” The enemies of Luther were no
strangers to his contempt for gold. VV hen
one of the popes asked a certain car-
dinal, why they did no stop that man’s
mouth with silver and gold; his emi-
nence replied, “That German beast
regards not money!” It may easily
be supposed, that the liberality of such
a man would often exceed his means.
A poor student once telling him of his
poverty, he desired his wife to give him
a sum of money; and when she in-
formed him they had none left, he
immediately seized a cup of some value,
which accidentally stood within his
reach, and giving it to the poor man,
bade him go and sell it, and keep the
money to supply his wants. In one of
his epistles, Luther says, “I have re-
ceived one hundred guilders from Tau-
bereim; and Schartts has given me
fifty; so that I begin to fear, lest God
should reward me in this life. But I
will not be satisfied with it. What have
Ito do with so much money! I gave
half of it to P. Priorus, and made the
man glad.”
(0) SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.——This
eminent man was governor of Flushing,
(N eth.) and general of the horse, under
his uncle, the Earl of Leicester. His va-
lor, which was esteemed great, and not
exceeded by any of his age, was at least
equalled by his humanity. After he
had received his death wound, at the
battle of Zutphen, and Was overcome
with thirst from excessive bleeding, he
called for drink, which was soon brought
him. At the same time, a poor soldier,
dangerously wounded, was carried
along, who fixed his eager eyes upon
the bottle just as Sir Philip was lifting
it to his mouth. Sir Philip immediately
presented it to him, with the remark,
“ Thy necessity is greater than mine.”
(ti) GEORGE III. AND THE
POOR MECHANIC.—-The Rev. A.
Redford, in his funeral sermon for this
benevolent monarch, states that a re-
spectable mechanic, who had the honor
and happiness to be personally known
to his majesty, was, through affliction in
his family, brought into great pecuniary
straits. He was advised to present a
petition to the king, stating his circum-
96
MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES.
.--_-—— _

stances. He did so; and his majesty
was pleased to appoint a certain hour
on the next morning, when he was or-
dered to be in waiting. He went ac-
cordingly to the gate of the queen’s
lodge, but through diffidence did not
ring for admittance. He lingered until
the appointed time was past by a few
minutes, when the king came out with
some attendants. He instantly observ-
ed the petitioner, and said rather sharp-
ly, “I desired you to be here precisely
at such an hour ; it is now five minutes
past the time; you know that I am
punctual.” His majesty condescend-
ingly turned back, saying, “ Follow
me.” He proceeded through several
rooms, into his private closet ; and hav-
ing shut the door, went to his desk, and
took out a purse and gave it to the
applicant, and said, “There is money
to pay your debts, and a trifle for your-
self.” The humble petitioner, over-
whelmed with the king’s goodness, drop-
ped on his knees, and made a stammer-
ing effort to thank his king, but a flood
of tears prevented him. His majesty
instantly put forth his hand, and with con-
siderable emotion exclaimed, “Get up,
get up; thank God that I have it in my
power to help an honest man.”
(e) THE DROVVNING SAILORS.
—-Two boats, some time ago, were sent
out from Dover to relieve a vessel in
distress. The fury of the tempest ever-
set one of them, which contained three
sailors, and one of them sunk. The two
remaining sailors were floating on the
deep; arope was thrown to one ofthem
from the other boat, but he refused it,
crying out, “Fling it to Tom, he is just
ready to go down ; I can last some time
longer.” They did so; Tom was drawn
into the boat. The rope was then flung
to the generous tar, just in time to save
him from drowning also.
SAVE HIM FIRST.— An ac-
cident occurred in a coal pit near Bit-
ton, in Gloucestershire, when six lives
were lost. At the moment when the
iron handle of the cart, in which the un-
fortunate men were, snapped asunder, a
man and a boy, who were hanging on the
rope above, made a sudden spring, and
most providentially laid hold of a chain
which is always hanging at the side of

44
the pit as a guide. As soon as possible.
after the accident was known at the top
of the pit, and it was ascertained that 1
some one was clinging to the side, a
man was sent down with a rope and
noose to render assistance. He came
first, in his descent, to a boy named
Daniel Harding, and on his reaching
him, the noble-minded lad instantly
cried out, “ Don’t mind me, I can stih
hold on a little ; but Joseph Bawn, who
is a little lower down, is nearly ex-
hausted ; save him first.” The person
went on, and found Joseph Bawn, as
described by his companion, and, after
bringing him safely up, again descended
and succeeded in restoring the gallant
boy to light and safety. When we
state that the time which elapsed from
the moment of the accident till the boy
was brought up was from fifteen to
twenty minutes, his fortitude and hero-
ism will be duly appreciated.
(g) DR. FOTHERGILL’S GIFT.-
Dr. F othergill, the botanist, remarked,
when about purchasing a property
which would leave a poor family des-
titute, that nothing could afford gratifi-
cation to him which entailed misery
upon another; and then gave the
property to them.
(it) RESIGNING A LEGACY.-
Dr. Crow, chaplain to Bishop Gibson,
bequeathed him two thousand five hun
dred pounds; but the bishop, under-
standing the doctor had left some poor
relations, nobly resigned the whole
legacy in their favor.
(2') THE AUTHOR AND HIS
MANUSCRIPTS.--We translate the
following anecdote from the Berlin
Evangelische Zeitung. To a learned
man, particularly if he is much of a
recluse, nothing among all earthly pos-
sessions lies so near the heart, as the
manuscript upon which he has spent
the flower of youth and the strength of
manhood. Regens, a venerable Ger-
man divine, had, in the year 1809, a
very learned manuscript work upon the
Prophets, lying in his cloister, and with
it many costly books, which he had
acquired by the pains and sacrifices of
almost a whole life. In another part of
the town there lay, after a battle which
had shortly before taken place, manv
'7
9'7
4:’-19
BENEFICENCE.
persons severely wounded and dying,
to whom Regens had aflbrded divine
consolation and refreshment for the
mind as well as the body. By means ofa
heavy bombardment, the town was set on
fire in different quarters, and the men-
astery, in which were the manuscripts
and books, was in flames at one and the
same time with the buildings in which
lay the sick and dying. While others
were intent on their own safety and that
of their property, this noble disciple of
Christ soon decided what he should do ;
he let his manuscripts, this labor of
many years, and the costly books, burn,
and carried the sick and dying, upon
his own shoulders, forth from the
flames !
COWPER’S BENEVOLENCE.
-—“ If there is a good man on earth,”
Lord Thurlow was wont to say, “it is
William Cowper.” From his child-
hood, he possessed a heart of the most
exquisite tenderness and sensibility.
IIis life was ennobled by many private
acts of beneficence ; and his exemplary
virtue was such, that the opulent some-
times delighted to make him their al-
moner. In his sequestered life at Olney
he administered abundantly to the wants
of the poor: and before he quitted St.
Alban’s, he took upon himself the
charge of a necessitous child, in order
to extricate him from the perils of be-
ing educated by very profligate parents;
this child he educated, and afterwards
had him settled at Oundle, in North-
amptonshire.
46. Belitfitencc Rewarded by its own
Exercise.
(a) TESTIMONY OF CATO.-
When Cato was drawing near the close
of his life, he declared to his friends,
that the greatest comfort of his old age,
and that which gave him the highest
satisfaction, was the pleasing remem-
hrance of the many benefits and friendly
offices he had done to others. To see
them easy and happy by his means
made him truly so.
(Z2) EXAMPLE OF JULIUS CZE-
SAR.—It Was a common saying of
Julius Caesar, that no music was so
charming to his ear as the requests of

his friends and the supplications of those
in want of his assistance.
(0) AURELIUS AND ANTONY.
—Marcus Aurelius tells us that he
could not relish a happiness which no-
body shared in but himself. Mark
Antony, when depressed, and at the ebb
of fortune, cried out “That he had lost
all, except what he had given away.”
((1) BURNET’S PLEASURE.-
One of Bishop Burnet’s parishioners,
being in great distress, applied to him
for assistance. The prelate requested
to know what would serve him, and
reinstate him in his trade. The man
named the sum, and Burnet told the ser-
vant to give it to him. “ Sir,” said the
servant, “ it is all that we have in the
house.” “Well, give it to this poor
man; you do not know the pleasure
there is in making a man glad.”
(6) HOWE’S TURN.--During the
days of the commonwealth, the Rev.
J olm Howe, one ofCromwell’s chaplains,
was frequently applied to by men of all
parties for protection, nor did he refuse
his influence to any on account of dif-
ference in religious opinions. One day,
the Protector said to him, “ Mr. I-Iowe,
you have asked favors for every body
besides yourself; pray, when does your
turn come Cl” He replied, “ My turn,
my Lord Protector, is always come
when I can serve another.”
(f) MORE BLESSED TO GIVE
THAN RECEIVE.—-A gentleman
called on Mr. H ,to solicit his aid
towards the erection of a Sunday school
room in a poor~ and populous district.
Mr. H. contributed, and the gentleman
began to thank him for his contribution,
when he prevented him by saying, “I
beg you will give me no thanks: I
thank you for giving me an opportunity
of doing what is good for myself. I am
thankful to God for the experience I
have had, that ‘it is more blessed to
give than to receive.’ ”
(g) THE EMPEROR AND THE
PEASANT.—-Alexander, the late Em-
peror of Russia, in one of his journeys
came to a spot where they had jus
dragged out of the water a. peasant, who
appeared lifeless. He instantly alighted,
had the man laid on the side of the
bank, and immediately proceeded to

BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY ITS OWN EXERCISE.
45
strip him, and to rub his temples, wrists,
dzc. Dr. Wyllie, his majesty’s phy-
sician, attempted to bleed the patient,
but in vain; and after three hours7
fruitless attempts to recover him, the
doctor declared that it was useless to
proceed any farther. The emperor
entreated Dr. Wyllie to persevere, and
make another attempt to bleed him.
The doctor, though he had not the
slightest hope of success, proceeded to
obey the injunctions of his majesty,
who, with some of his attendants, made
a last effort at rubbing. At length the
emperor had the inexpressible satisfac-
tion of seeing the blood make its ap-
pearance, while the poor peasant utter-
ed a feeble groan. His majesty, in a
transport of joy, exclaimed that this was
the brightest day of his life, while tears
stole involuntarily down his cheek.
Their exertions were now redoubled:
the emperor tore his handkerchief, and
bound the arm ofthe patient, nor did he
leave him till he was quite recovered.
(It) THE COURAGEOUS NURSE.
—--The typhus fever, in its alarming and
contagious form, spread in a certain
village. The neighborhood was in con-
sternation, and none but the medical
men were willing to venture near the
patients. Who then could nurse them?
There was one poor woman who was
very often ridiculed for her strict reli-
gious notions, and for being so very
particular in her ways, and for walking
in all weathers to attend Divine worship,
at a considerable distance. This poor
woman alone attended the sufferers,
leaving her own children in the care
of her eldest son. She nursed and
soothed the sick, attended their dying
beds, and performed the last decent
offices for those who expired. At this
time she desired to attend the Lord’s
table, and her minister heard from her
this simple statement, made with much
modesty. She wished to be informed
whether the principle on which she
acted was quite right, as many had
blamed her, and she added, “Sir, I
cannot be happy to do otherwise ,' besides,
I can speak to them a little about their
souls.” Her own views and feelings
were those of a sinner humbled before
the cross, subdued to the world, and

yielding herself and all she loved into
the hands of a gracious Savior.
She persevered in her work and la-
bor of love ; she caught the infection,
suffered severely, and but just escaped
with her life: the effects of the disease
remained, and her once comely person
was much altered. Yet with joy of
heart she spoke to he. pastor afterwards
of her sufferings, and her only sorrow
appeared to arise from the sad thought
that some of her patients had expired
without any apparent change of heart!
God mercifully preserved her husband
and all her family from the infection.
This humble creature did not display
these things as a proof that she had faith,
but even those who blamed her were
constrained to notice its fruits. The
grace of God evidently spread its in-
fiuence in that village, especially among
the young ; and even those who despised
her holy life and conversation, which
they called her peculiarities, were con-
strained to say that she had shown her
faith by her works.
(i) AN OCCASION OF GRATI.
TUDE.--Not many years since, (says
a correspondent of the N ew-York Evan-
gelist, in 1830,) I had occasion to solicit
funds to aid in the prosecution of a work
of benevolence. I stepped into the
oflice of a Christian brother, with whom
I had a partial acquaintance, and inci-
dentally mentioned the unpleasant busi-
ness before me, and inquired of him for
the residence of a certain benevolent
individual, and added that I hoped to
get one dollar of him. After receiving
directions, I turned to go out: “But
stop,” said this brother, “ suppose you
let me have the privilege of contributing
a little of the money which the Lord
has lent me, to this cause. Put down
$ 100 for me.” I expressed my surprise
that he should contribute so liberally,
and remarked thatI should feel myself
in duty bound not to call on him very
soon on a similar errand. “ VV ell then,”
said he, “my brother, I think you will
very much mistake your duty. If you
knew how much pleasure it gave me to
contribute of my substance to the Lord,
you would feel no reluctance in calling
again. And now let me charge you,
when engaged in similar business, never
99
' \
I
45, 46
BENEFICENCE.

——--Q
to pass me by. Call, and I think Ishall
be able to do something; and if not, my
prayers shall go with you.”
(j) FLETCHER’S GRATITUDE.
—-—The Rev. J. VV. Fletcher, of Made-
ley, and his wife, once visited Dublin for
a few weeks. After his last sermon, he
was pressed to accept a sum of money
as an acknowledgment for his impor-
tant services. He firmly refused it, but
his friend continued to urge it upon
him. He at length took the purse in
his hand, and said, “ VV ell, do you
really force it upon me? Must I accept
of it? Is it entirely mine ? And may
I do with it as I please '2” “Yes, yes,”
was the reply. “ God be praised, then;
God be praised,” said he, casting his
brimful eyes to heaven ; “ behold what
a mercy is here! Your poor’s fund
was just out: I heard some of you
complaining that it never was so low
before. Take this purse; God has sent
it you, raised it among yourselves, and
bestowed it upon your poor. It is sacred
to them. God be praised I Ithank you,
I heartily thank you, my dear kind
brethren.”
(in) BIBLE SOCIETY IN SALIES.
——The church of Salies, (Basses, Py-
renees,) had been without collections
for the poor, or those which had been
made were so small that no good could
be done with their produce. A Bible
Society was established. After that
time, Christians paid more attention to
their Christian duties; the poor’s box
was richly replenished; system was in-
troduced into the distribution of alms
during the rigor of winter ; four or five
families, who had suffered by fire,
were aided ; wood was furnished to the
poor, food to the aged, clothing to those
in infancy, bread was distributed, &c.
During the same year, the number of
subscribers to the Bible Society was
raised from FIFTY TO TWO HUNDRED AND
FIFTY.
46. Bonofioonoo ltowaniod by Gratihido
and Rospoot.
(a) CROMWELL AND THE FLO-
RENTINE MERCHANT .—Francis
Frescobald, a Florentine merchant, de-
scended of a noble family in Italy, had

gained a plentiful fcrtune, of which he
was liberal-handed to all in necessity;
which being well known to others,
though concealed by himself, a young
stranger applied to him for charity.
Signior Frescobald, seeing something in
his countenance more than ordinary,
overlooked his tattered clothes, and com-
passionating his circumstances, asked
him what he was, and of what country.
“I am,” answered the young man, “ a
native of England ; my name is Thomas
Cromwell, and my father-in-law is a
poor shire-man. I left my country to
seek my fortune; came with the French
army that were routed at Gatylion,
where I was page to a fbotman, and
carried his pike and burgonet after
him.” F rescobald commiserating his
necessities, and having a particular re-
spect fer the English nation, clothed
him genteelly, took him into his house
till he had recovered strength by better
diet, and, at his taking leave, mounted
him on a good horse, with sixteen ducats
of gold in his pockets. Cromwell ex-
pressed his thankfulness in a very sen-
sible manner, and returned by land
towards England ; where, being arrived,
he was preferred into the service of
Cardinal VVolsey.
After the cardinal’s death, he worked
himself so effectually into the favor of
King Henry VIII, that his majesty
made him a baron, viscount, Earl of
Essex, and, at last, lord chancellor of
England. In the meantime, Signior
Frescobald, by repeated losses at sea
and land, was reduced to poverty; and,
calling to mind, without ever thinking
of Cromwell, that some English mer-
chants were indebted to him in the sum
of fifteen thousand ducats, he came to
London to procure payment.
Travelling in pursuit of this affair,
he fortunately met with the lord chan-
cellor, as he was riding to court ; who,
thinking him to be the same gentleman
that had done him such great kindness
in Italy, immediately alighted, em-
braced him, and, with tears of joy, asked
him if he was not Signior Francis Fres-
cobald, a Florentine merchant. “Yes,
sir,” said he, “ and your most humble
servant.” “ My servant l” said the
chancellor. “ No; you are my special
100
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY
GRATITLDE AND RESPECT.
46
fr» ad, that relieved me in my wants,
lai .the foundation of my greatness, and
as such I receive you; and since the
affairs of my sovereign will not now
permit a longer conference, I beg you
will oblige me this day with your
company at my house to dine with
me.
Signior Frescobald was surprised and
astonished with admiration who this
great man should be, that acknowledged
such obligations, and so passionately
expressed a kindness for him 5 but, con-
templating awhile his mien, his voice
and carriage, he concluded it to be
Cromwell, whom he had relieved at
Florence; and, therefore, not a little
overjoyed, went to his house. His lord-
ship came soon after, and taking his
friend by the hand, turned to the lord
high admiral, and other noblemen in
his company, saying, “Do not your
lordships wonder that I am so glad to
see this gentleman? This is he who
first contributed to my advancement.”
He then told them the whole story, and
holding him still by the hand, led him
into the dining-room, and placed him
next himself at table. The company
being gone, the chancellor made use of
this opportunity to know what affair
had brought him into England. Fres-
cobald, in a few words, gave him a true
state of his circumstances; to which
Cromwell replied, “I am sorry for your-
misfortunes, and I will make them as
easy to you as I can ; but, because men
ought to be just before they are kind,
it is fit I should repay the debtl owe
you.” Then leading him to his closet,
he looked the door, and, opening a coffer,
first took out sixteen ducats, delivering
them to Frescobald, and said, “ My
friend, here is the money you lent me
at Florence, with ten pieces you laid
out for my apparel, and ten more you
paid for my horse ; but considering that
you are a merchant, and might have
made some advantage by this money in
the way of trade, take these four bags,
in every one of which are four hundred
ducats, and enjoy them as free gifts of
your friend.” These the modesty of
F rescobald would have refused, but the
other forced them upon him. He next
caused him to give him tlw names of

all his debtors, and the sums they owed ,
which account he gave to one of his
servants, with a charge to find out the
men, and oblige them to pay him in
fifteen days, under the penalty of his
displeasure; and the servant so well
discharged his duty, that in a short time
the entire sum was paid. All this time,
Signior Fresco oald lodged in the chan-
cellor’s house, where he was entertained
according to his merits, was repeatedly
invited to continue in England, and an
offer of the loan of sixty thousand ducats
for four years, if he would trade here ;
but he desired to return to Florence,
which he did, with extraordinary favors
from Cromwell.
(Z2) THE WELSH CLERGYMAN
AND THE LONDON MERCHANT.
—A poor Welsli clergyman had been
noticed by a wealthy London merchant,
and received an occasional invitation to
dinner. After a time, wishing to im-
prove his circumstances, he set up a
boarding-school, and was thereby ena-
bled to obtain a bare maintenance for
himself and family ; while, from unfore-
seen events, the merchant became re-
duced in his circumstances.
N o sooner did this sad reverse become
known to the poor honest \Velshman,
than he hastened to evince his grateful
feelings for the former kindness of the
merchant. He sent for one of his sons,
and boarded and educated him until he
was of age to go out in life. A friend
of the merchant afterwards met him,
and inquired after his tried friend, the
Welsh clergyman. IVith some emotion,
he informed the friend, that he had re-
cently travelled some miles on foot in
order to pay a tribute of respect to him,
and to his great grief found that he had
lately departed this life. “ But,” said
he, “ his memory shall be cherished
while my life and reason last.”
(0) THE SERVANT’S OFFER.-
During the severe distress which once
visited some of the bankers and mer-
chants of London, a. man who had lived
several years in the service of one of
them, sent a note to his former master
to this effect :—-“ Sir, I formerly lived
some years in your father’s family, and
a few in your own. 1 saved seven
hundred pounds. Can it be made of
10.
16
BENEFICENCE
any use to you’.2 If it can, it is yours :
take it.”
(03) DR. L. AND HIS SERVANT.
P-Dr. L., a respectable gentleman,
was confined for some time in the King’s
Bench Prison; while his fortune, on
account of a law-suit, was unjustly
withheld from him. During this dis-
tress, he was obliged to tell his negro
servant, that, however painful to his
feehngs, they must part ; his difliculties
being so great, that he was unable to
provide for him the necessaries of life.
The negro, well known in the King’s
Bench Prison by the name of Bob, re-
plied, “ N 0, master, we will neverpart.
Many a year have you kept me; and
nowl will keep you.” Accordingly,
Bob went out to work as a day laborer ;
and, at the end of every week, faith-
fully brought his earnings to his master.
These proved sufficient for the support
of them both, until, the lawsuit being
ended, Dr. L. became possessed of a
large fortune. He settled a handsome
sum on his faithful servant.
(e) THE INDIAN AND THE
TEAMSTER.——In former times one
of the preachers of the Mohegan In-
dians, situated on the Thames, between
Norwich and New London, America,
was preaching on the language of Solo-
mon : “ Cast thy bread upon the waters ;
for thou shalt find it after many days,”
Eccles. xi. 1. To illustrate his subject,
and enforce the duty of benevolence, he
related a circumstance connected with
his early days, as follows:—A cer-
tain man was going from Norwich
to New London with a loaded team;
on attempting to ascend the hill where
Indian lives, he found his team could
not draw his load; he came to Indian
and got him to help him up with his
oxen. After he had got up, he asked
Indian what there was to pay. Indian
told him to do as much for somebody
else. Some time afterwards, Indian
wanted a canoe : he went up Shetucket
'river, found a tree, and made him one.
When he got it done, he could not get
it to the river. Accordingly, he went
to a man and offered him all the money
he had, if he would go and draw it to
the ri\ er for him. The man said he
would go. After getting it to the river,
102
Indian offered to pay nim. “ No,” said
the man, “don’t you recollect so long
ago helping a man up the hill by your
house?” “Yes.” “Well, I am the
man; there, take your canoe, and
go home.” So I find it after many
days.
(f) THE BLACK TRADER AND
HIS F RIEND.——In Ramsay’s “ Essay
on the Treatment and Conversion of
African Slaves,” he tells us, that in
1756 a fire happened in Barbadoes,
which burned down a great part of the
town and ruined many of the inhabit-
ants. Joseph Rachel, a black trader,
happily lived in a quarter that escaped
destruction, and showed his thankful-
ness, by lessening the distresses of his
neighbors. Among those who had lost
their all by this heavy misfbrtune, was
a man to whose family Joseph, in the
early part of his life, owed some obli-
gations. This man, by too great hospi-
tality, had involved his affairs before
the fire happened; and his estate lying
in houses, that event entirely ruined
him ; he escaped with only the clothes
on his back. Amidst the cries of misery
and want which excited Joseph’s com-
passion, this man’s unfortunate situation
claimed particular notice. The gener-
ous temper of the sufferer, and the
obligations that Joseph owed to his
family, were powerful motives for act-
ing towards him a friendly part.
Joseph held his bond for sixty pounds
sterling. “Unfortunate man,” said he,
“this shall never rise against thee.
Never shalt thou apply for the assist-
ance of any friend against my avarice.”
He got up, ordered a current account
that the man had with him, to a con-
siderable amount, to be drawn out, and
in a whim that might have called up a
smile on the face of charity, filled his
pipe, sat down again, twisted the bond,
and lighted his pipe with it. VI/hile the
account was drawing out, he continued
smoking, in a state of mind that a men
arch might envy. When finished, he went
in search of his friend, with the account
discharged, and the multilated bond in
his hand. On meeting with him, he
presented the papers to him, with this
address :—“ Sir, I am sensibly affected
with your misfortunes: the obligations
O
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY GRATITUIJE AND RESPECT.
46
that I have received from your family
give me a relation to every branch of
it. I know that your inability to satis-
fy for what you owe, gives you more
uneasiness than the loss of your own
substance. That you may not be anx-
ious on my account, accept of this
discharge, and the remains of your
bond. Iam overpaid in the satisfac-
tion I feel from having done my duty.
I beg you to consider this only as a
token of the happiness that you will
impart to me, whenever you put it in
my power to do you a good office.”
One may easily guess the man’s feel-
ings, and how much his mind must have
been strengthened to bear up against his
misfortunes.
(g) THE HAZARDOUS BOND.—-
A person applied to a pious woman, re-
questing her husband to become bound
for an amount which, if ever demanded,
would sweep away all his property. On
her replying, “My husband will attend,
sir, whenever you may appoint;” a
bystander asked her, “Do you know
what you are engaging to do, and that
perhaps this may be the means of leav-
ing you destitute '2” She replied, “Yes,
Ido; but that gentleman found us in
the greatest distress, and by his kind-
ness we are surrounded with comforts:
now, should such an event take place,
he will only leave us where he found
us !,7 .
(It) THE BROKEN MERCHANT
BE FRIEN DED.--—A merchant resided
many years, highly respected, at Can-
ton and Macao, when a sudden reverse
of fortune reduced him from a state
of affluence to the greatest necessity.
A Chinese merchant, to whom he had
formerly rendered service, gratefully
offered him an immediate loan of ten
thousand dollars, which the gentleman
accepted, and gave his bond for the
amount: this the Chinese immediately
threw into the fire, saying, “ When you,
my friend, first came to China, I was a
poor man: you took me by the hand,
and, assisting my honest endeavors,
made me rich. Our circumstances are
now reversed: I see you poor, while I
have affluence.” The bystanders had
snatched the bond from the flames: the
gentleman, sensibly affected by such

generosity, pressed his Chinese friend to
take the security, which he did. and
then effectually destroyed it. The dis-
ciple of Confucius, beholding the re-
newed distress it occasioned, said he
would accept of his watch or any little
valuable, as a memorial of their friend-
ship. The gentleman immediately
presented his watch, and the Chinese,
in return, gave him an old iron seal,
saying, “ Take this seal: it is one I
have long used, and possesses no intrin-
sic value : but as you are going to India,
to look after your outstandmg con; erns,
should misfortune further attend you,
draw upon me for any sum of money
you may stand in need of, seal it with
this signet, sign it with your own hand,
and I will pay the money.”
(2') THE INDIAN AND HIS
F RlEND.——Dr. Dwight, in his travels
in New England, states, that soon after
the county of Litchfield began to be
settled by the English, a strange Indian
arrived at an inn, and asked the hostess,
as the evening was advancing, to pro-
vide him some refreshment; at the
same time observing, that from failure
in hunting he had nothing to pay, but
promising compensation whenever he
succeeded.
The plea was, however, in vain: the
hostess loaded him with opprobrious epi-
thets, and declared that it was not to
throw away her earnings on such crea-
tures as himself, that she worked so
hard. But as the Indian was about to
retire, with a countenance expressive of
severe suffering, a man who sat by di-
rected the hostess to supply his wants,
and promised her full remuneration.
As soon as the Indian had finished his
supper, be thanked his benefactor, as-
sured him that he should remember his
kindness, and engaged that it should be
faithfully recompensed whenever it was
in his power. The friend of the In-
dian had occasion, some years after, to
go into the wilderness between Litchfield
and Albany, where he was taken
prisoner by an Indian scout, and carried
to Canada. On his arrival at the prin-
cipal settlement of the tnibe, it was
proposed by some of the captors that he
should be put to death ; but, during the
consultation, an old woman demanded
103
BENEFICENCE.
__'—_—__’—‘_~__--_——_ --
that he should be given up to her, that
she might adept him for a son who had
been lost in the war. Accordingly he
was given up to her, and he passed the
succeeding winter in her family, amidst
the usual circumstances of savage
hospitality.
VVhile, in the course of the following
summer, he was at work alone in the
forest, an unknown Indian came and
asked him to go to a place he pointed
out, on a given day; and to this he
agreed, though not without some
apprehension that mischief was con-
templated. His fears increased, his
promise was broken. The same per-
son repeated his visit, and after excusing
himself in the best way he could, he
made another engagement, and kept his
word. On reaching the appointed spot,
he found the Indian provided with am-
munition, two muskets, and two knap-
sacks; he was ordered to take one of
each, and he followed his conductor,
under the persuasion that, had he in-
tended him injury he might have de-
spatched him at once. In the day-time
they shot the game that came in their
way, and at night they slept by the fire
they had kindled ; but the silence of the
Indian, as to the object of their expedi-
tion, was mysterious and profound. After
many days had thus passed, they came
one morning to the top of an eminence,
from whence they observed a number
of houses rising in the midst of a culti-
vated country. The Indian asked his
companion if he knew the ground, and
he eagerly said, “It is Litchfield.”
His guide then recalled the scene at the
inn some years before, and bidding him
farewell, exclaimed, “ I am that Indian I
Now I pray you gohome.”
(7') THE SICK ORPHAN AND
HIS NEGRO NURSE.——-The follow-
ing anecdote is told by Mr. Ramsay,
in his “Essays on the Treatment and
Conversion of African Slaves in the
British Sugar Islands. ”
A lieutenant of a regiment, in gar-
rison at St. Christopher’s, died. and left
his son an orphan boy. A particular
family of his acquaintance on the island
had promised him, on his death-bed,
to take care of his child; but the boy
was totally abandoned by them, and

forced to remain among the negro chil-
dren, and live upon such scraps as he
could find. In this destitute state, he
caught that loathsome disease the yaws,
which became an additional reason for
their neglecting him. In the ulcerated
condition produced by that distemper,
a poor female negro, named Babay,
found “him, took him into her hut, got
him cured, and maintained him till he
was able to work for himself. The firs
money that he earned went to purchase
her freedom. He took her home to his
house, and as long as she lived after-
wards, which was upwards of forty
years, he treated her with the greatest
kindness and respect. When she died
he gave her a most respectable burial,
and had a funeral sermon preached on
the occasion.
(k) THE WELL-SPENT SHIL-
LlNG.—A gentleman from the coun-
try, passing through the streets of the
metropolis, saw a poor man who has
formerly been employed by him as a
laborer, and his circumstances were
those of extreme poverty and distress.
He had come up to London to seek em-.
ployment; but, failing to obtain it, was
reduced to a state of extreme destitu-
tion. The gentleman gave him a shil-
ling and passed on, perhaps scarcely
recollecting the circumstance, till II.
was recalled to his mind by the man
himself, whom, about twelve months
afterwards, he met again, and whose
decent clothing and cheerful looks in-
dicated a favorable change in his cir-
cumstances. “Sir,” said the poor fel-
low, “I am bound to bless you, and
pray for you as long as I live; that
shilling you gave me has been the
making of me: bad enough I wanted
it for food; but I was resolved first to
turn it round: so I went up and down
one of the principal streets, and collected
as many hare-skins as it would pur-
chase ; these Idisposed of, and content-
ed myself with such food as the profits
would afford, still reserving the shilling
as my stock in trade. By degrees I
saved a little more, and to you, sir, I
am indebted for the foundation of it all.
But for your timely aid, I might have
perished. May a blessing attend you
as long as you live.”
104
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY GRATITUDE AND RESPECT.
-—-_—
46
(Z) THE VVIDOW AND THE
SAVA GES.—On the banks of the Pis-
cataqua, several villages early began to
rise as far up as what is now Dover,,
N. H. Their intercourse With the
tawny sons of the forest was not always
that of enemies; the latter often came
forth to visit their white brethren on
terms of friendship; and, on one of those
occasions, a squaw, with her infant
suddenly taken ill, sought a place for
shelter and repose. A widow, alone
with her family on the outskirts of the
settlement, kindly welcomed them to
her humble abode, nursed the sick babe
as her own, and, when it was restored to
health, sent them on their way with her
blessing. That deed of kindness was not
lost. Years rolled on; but the Indian
did not forget her humble benefactor.
Strife arose between the two races; and
the Indians prepared to empty upon the
place the vials of their wrath. They
surrounded it at dead of night; but,
oefore striking a single blow, they
sought the poor widow’s house, and
placed there a guard, lest some of their
warriors should, in their ignorance or
heedless rage, wreak upon their friend
a vengeance aimed only at their foes.
This done, they went to their work of
fire and blood; nor did they stay their
hand until the settlement was in flames,
and most of its inhabitants, save the
widow and her children, were butcher'-
ed or made captives.
(m) GIVING SIXPENCE A WEEK
TO A POOR VVOMAN.——The Rev.
NV. lay, in his interesting memoirs of
his friend and tutor, the Rev. C. VV'in-
ter, introduces the following fact:
I remember some years ago to have
buried a corpse. In the extremity of
the audience that surrounded me, I dis-
cerned a female, wrinkled with age,
and bending with weakness. One hand
held a motherless grandchild, the other
wiped away her tears with the corner
of her woollen apron. I pressed towards
her when the service was closed, and
said, “Have you lost a friend ?” She
heaved a melancholy sigh. “ The Lord
bless her memory!” I soon found the
deceased had allowed her, for several
years, sixpence per week! O my God!
is it possible that the appropriation of a

sum so inconsiderable, may cause a
widow’s heart to sing for joy, and save
the child of the needy!
(n) BREAD ON THE I/VATERS.
—A benevolent young lady was re-
quested to assist two poor women, who
were said to be in great distress. She
went, and found two maiden females,
advanced in life, dwelling in a small
cellar. One was afflicted with a slow
consumption; and the other was ob-
liged to spend her whole time in wait-
ing upon her; so that neither of them
could earn any thing, and their distress
was very great. The young visitor
found them in want of all things but
confidence in God, and hope in his
mercy; and, as a follower of Him who
went about doing good, she took effec-
tual means to provide for the wants of
these afflicted sisters.
In one of her visits to this abode of
misery, she learned that the poor women
had once themselves had the pleasure
of relieving the poor. Once they were
rich——once they had visited the destitute,
fed the hungry, and supported the sick;
but, in the war between this country
and Great Britain, they lost their father
—-were deprived of their property in
the general disorder of the times; and,
when young ladies, were obliged, with
their mother, to keep a boarding-house
for their maintenance. Some of their
boarders were soldiers ; and one of them,
a young man from Connecticut, never
having received his s0ldier’s pay, was
unable to discharge the bill for his
board. VV hen thus poor, he was taken
ill; and, for five or six weeks, these
ladies waited upon him with all the
kindness which a mother or sister could
have done. “They cast their bread
upon the waters.”-—But who was this
soldier? And who _was the young lady,
who went on this err-and of mercy to
the cellar? The soldier, having fought
his country’s battles, laid aside his ar-
mor, and slept in the tomb. A son of the
soldier was married to the young lady.
Yes, it was the good pleasure of God, that
the wife of the son of the sick soldier
should comfort those who comforted him.
The aged females were long assisted by
the soldier’s son. After many days, the
bread which they cast upon the waters
105
£6
BENEFICENCE.
was returned to them. They had pity
upon the poor; and the Lord was pleased,
according to his gracious promise, to
repay them with interest.
(0) THE GRATEFUL SOLDIER.
—-The Rev. John Craig, a distinguish-
ed minister, and colleague of Knox,
having gone to reside in Bologna, in a
convent of Dominicans, found a copy
of “ Calvin’s Institutes,” which God
made the means of his conversion to the
reformed faith. He was seized as a
heretic soon after, and carried to Rome,
where he was condemned to be burnt;
but, on the evening preceding the day
of execution, the reigning pontifi died,
and, according to custom, the doors of
all the prisons were thrown open. All
others were released; but heretics, after
being permitted to go outside the walls,
were re-conducted to their cells. That
night, however, a tumult was excited,
and Craig and his companions escaped.
They had entered a small inn at some
distance from Rome, when they were
overtaken by a party of soldiers, sent
to apprehend them. On entering the
house, the captain looked Craig stead-
fastly in the face, and asked him if he
remembered having once relieved a
poor wounded soldier, in the neighbor-
hood of Bologna: Craig had forgotten
it. “But,” said the captain, “I am
the man; I shall requite your kindness;
you are at liberty; your companions I
must take with me; but, for your sake,
I shall treat them with all possible
lenity.” He gave him all the money
he had, and Craig escaped. But his
money soon failed him ; yet God, who
feeds the ravens, did not. Lying at
the side of a wood, full of gloomy ap-
prehensions, a dog came running up to
him with a purse in its teeth. Suspect-
ing some evil, he attempted to drive
the animal away, but in vain. He at
length took the purse, and found in it
a sum of money which carried him to
Vienna.
(p) A SUICIDE PREVENTED.—-
A Piedmontese nobleman, into whose
company I fell at Turin, (says Mr.
Rages of Italy,) told me his story with-
out reserve, as follows: “I was weary
of life, and after a day such as few have
known, and none would wish to remem-

Q‘.-—---|-u_p-‘
ber, was lounging along the street to
the river, when I felt a sudden check:
I turned, and beheld a little boy, who
caught the skirt of my coat in his
anxiety to solicit my notice, whcse look
and manner were irresistible. Not
less was the lesson he had learned-
‘ There are six of us, and we are dying
for food.’ \Vhy should not I, said I
to myself, relieve this wretched family '2
I have the means, and it will not delay
me many minutes. But what if it does 7
The scene of misery he conducted me
to, I cannot describe ; Ithrew them my
purse, and their burst of gratitude over-
came me. It filled my eyes, it went as
cordial to my heart. I will call again
to-morrow, I said. Fool that I was, to
think of leaving a world where so
much pleasure was to be had, and so
cheaply.”
(q) THE MECHANIC’S SON AND
THE REDUCED MERCHANT.—-
A Philadelphia merchant in former
times, whose wealth and importance
were only equalled by the goodness of
his heart and the purity of his principles,
rescued a mechanic from the clutches
of poverty, and, what was worse in
those days, from the hands of the sheriff.
The son of the mechanic was young,
but old enough to know his father’s
benefactor. Many years after this, the
merchant fell into difficulties, and at
the most trying moment, when all his
friends had forsaken him, the mecha-
nic’s son, now comparatively wealthy,
stepped forward to his relief. “I am
much indebted to you,” said the re-
duced merchant. “ By no means,”
said the other; “I have only paid
the debt which my father contracted,
at the corner of Chesnut-street, thirty
years ago, when I was just old enough
to know the cause of my poor mother’s
grief.”
The merchant grasped his hand, and
burst into a flood of tears.
(r) SCATTERING YET INCREAS.
ING.--The agent of t ‘re N. H. Domes-
tic Miss. Society, was obtaining life
subscriptions for the Society in the
town of H.
After having obtained a few, he called
cn Mr. P., a liberal man, who, though
not a professor of religion, was ready
106
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE.
46, 47

Without urging, to aid every benevo-
lent object. The paper was presented,
and h-e was left to act according to his
own judgment. He was in debt, hav-
ing a large sum to pay out as legacies
from his father. But, said he, if I knew
what duty was I would do it. He
looked at the paper, and laid it down ;
looked, and laid it down again; but
finally took his pen and signed his name,
trusting to Providence to bear him
through.
One portion of that legacy was to be
paid to a brother then residing in a
distant part of the country, a minister
of the gospel, but who was not in need
of more property. This brother came
to the residence of the brother who
owed the debt, on a visit. Through the
mediation of a friend, the subject of the
legacy was brought forward. “Name it
not,” said the minister ; “ I care nothing
about it; let us seek the salvation of
the soul of my brother.” “No,” said
that friend, “ your brother says he
must have this settled; it is a burden
to him, it stands in the way of his good.”
“ I/V ell, is my brother a good Society
man '2” “ Yes,” was the answer, and
then the preceding incident was de-
scribed to him. “Make out a paper;
I am ready to sign any thing, even an
acquittance of the whole.” And he did
it. And his mind was balanced to this
act of benevolence to his brother, by the
fact that he was so ready to do good,
and gave when duty was so doubtful.
Had he withholden in that one instance,
he would probably have paid ten times
the sum which he contributed for life-
membership. Trust in the Lord and do
good, and verily thou shalt be fed.
(s) OBERLIN IN THE FRENCH
REVOLUTION .—-During the revolu-
tion in France, the Ban de la Roche (a
mountainous canton in the northeast
of that kingdom)- alone seemed to be
an asylum of peace in the midst of war
and carnage. Though every kind of
worship was interdicted throughout
France, and almost all the clergy of
Alsace, men of learning, talents, and
property, were imprisoned,—John Fre-
deric Oberlin, pastor of \Valdbach, was
allowed to continue his work of bene-

His house became the retreat of many
individuals of different religious per-
suasions, and of distinguished rank,
who fled thither, under the influence of
terror, from Strasburg and its environs,
and who always received the most
open-hearted and cordial reception,
though it endangered his own situation.
“I once,” says a gentleman, who was
then residing at Waldbach, “ saw a
chief actor of the revolution in Oberlin’s
house, and in that atmosphere he seemed
to have lost his sanguinary disposition,
and to have exchanged the fierceness of
the tiger for the gentleness of the lamb.
(1) DR. DOI)DRIDGE’S DAUGH-
TER.—-Dr. Doddridge one day asked
his little daughter how it was that
every body loved her: “I know not,”
said she, “ unless it be that I love every
body.”
47. Benefieenee Rewarded in various
ways by Providence.
(a) TIBERIUS II. AND HIS
TREASURE.—- Tiberius II. was so
liberal to the poor, that his wife blamed
him for it. Speaking to him once of
his wasting his treasure by this means,
he told her, “he should never want
money so long as, in obedience to
Christ’s command, be supplied the ne-
cessities of the poor.” Shortly after
this, he found a great treasure under a
marble table which had been taken up ;
and news was also brought him of the
death of a very rich man, who had left
his whole estate to him.
(b) “BRING YE ALL THE
TITHES/’—“Some years ago,” says
one, “I recollect readmg a striking ser-
mon by the late Mr. Simpson, of Mac-
clesfield; the subject, I think, was
Christian liberality; but what most for-
cibly struck my mind, was a passage
quoted from Malachi iii. 10: ‘Bring
ye all the tithes into the storehouse,’
dzc. I cannot describe how my mind
was impressed with the manner in
which Jehovah here eondescended to
challenge his people, when he says,
‘And prove me now herewith,’ &c.
Suflice it to say, that the subject made
such an impression, I found it my duty
volence and instruction unmolested. .to do more for the cause of God than
107
47
BENEFICENCE.
--,
I ever had done. I did so, and on
closing that year’s accounts, I found
that I had gained more than in any two
years preceding it. Some time after-
wards, I thought the Redeemer’s cause
had an additional claim, as the place in
which we worshipped him wanted some
repairs. The sum I then gave was
£20 ; and in a very little time after-
wards I received £40, which I had
long given up as lost.”
(0) TITHING AND THRIVING.—
The Rev. Mr. Whately having in a ser-
"ion warmly recommended his hearers to
p rt in a purse by itself a certain portion
for every pound of profits of their world-
ly trades for works of piety, he observed,
if they did so, that instead of secret
grudging when objects of charity were
presented, thev would look out for them
and rejoice to find them. A neighbor-
ing clergyman hearing him, and being
deeply affected with what he so forcibly
recommended, went to him after the
sermon was ended, and asked what
proportion of his income he ought in
conscience to give. “ As to that,”
said he, “I am not to prescribe to others ;
but I will tell you what has been my
own practice. You know, sir, some
years ago, I was often beholden to you
for the loan of ten pounds at a time.
The truth is, I could not bring the year
about, though my receipts were not
despicable, and I was not at all conscious
of any unnecessary expenses. At length
I inquired of my family what relief
was given to the poor; and not being
satisfied, I instantly resolved to lay
aside evey tenth shilling of all my re-
ceipts for charitable uses; and the
Lord has made me so to thrive, since I
adopted this method, that now, if you
have occasion, I can lend you ten times
as much as Ihave formerly been forced
to borrow.”
((1) THE COVENTRY DOLE.-—
A singular charity, entitled “ The
Coventry Dole,” has recently been a
subject of investigation in Devizes, of
which the following is said to be the
origin :—
A poor weaver, passing through the
place, without money and without
friends, being overtaken by hunger and
the utmost necessity, applied for charity

to a baker, who kindly gave him a
penny loaf. The weaver made his
way to Coventry, where, after many
years of industry, he amassed a fortune ;
and by his will, in remembrance of the
seasonable charity of Devizes, he be-
queathed a sum, in trust, for the pur.
pose of distributing, on the anniversary
of the day when he was so relieved, a
halfpenny leaf to every person in the
town, gentle and simple, and to every
traveller that should pass through the
town on that day a penny leaf.
(6) VESSEL SAVED BY A DOL-
PHIN. — Mr. Colstone, an eminent
merchant of Bristol, who lived a cen-
tury ago, was remarkable for his liber-
ality to the poor, and equally distin-
guished for his success in commerce.
The providence of God seemed to smile,
in a peculiar manner, on the concerns
of one who made so good a use of his
afiiuence. It has been said, that he
never insured, nor ever lost a ship.
Once, indeed, a vessel belonging to him
on her voyage home, struck on a rock,
and immediately sprang a leak, by
which so much water was admitted as
to threaten speedy destruction. Means
were instantly adopted to save the ves-
sel, but all seemed ineffectual, as the
water rose rapidly. In a short time,
however, the leak stopped without any
apparent cause, and the vessel reached
Bristol in safety. On examining her
bottom, a fish, said to be a dolphin, was
found fast wedged in the fracture made
by the rock when she struck; which
had prevented any water from entering
during the remainder of the voyage.
As a memorial of this singular event,
the figure of a dolphin is carved on the
staves which are carried in procession,
on public occasions, by the children
who are educated at the charity schools
founded by Mr. Colstone.
(f) A CHILD’S LIFE SAVED BY
HER FATHER.—As the Rev. Joseph
Davis, an excellent Baptist minister in
London, was walking along one of the
crowded streets of that city, his atten-
tion was arrested by the circumstance
that a carriage with several horses was
just about to pass over a little girl, who
was slowly crossing the road. He
strongly felt the danger of the child,
108
BENEFICENCE REI/VARDED BY PROVIDENCE.
47
and forgetting his own, he ran, snatched
her up in his arms, and hastened with
ner to the side path, when the thought
struck him-—how would the parents of
this dear child have felt, had she been
killed l—At this moment he looked in
the face of the little girl, which had
been concealed from his view by her
bon.1e‘., and imagine, if you can, what
his feelings were when he discovered
that it was his daughter I
(g) THE BOLD PETITIONER.—
The Romans had a law, that no person
should approach the emperor’s tent in
the night, upon the pain of death ; but
it once happened, that a soldier was
found in that situation, with a petition
in his hand, waiting for an opportu-
nity of presenting it. He was appre-
hended, and going to be immediately
executed ; but the emperor having ever-
heard the matter in his pavilion, cried
aloud, saying, “If the petition be for
himself let him die ; if for another, spare
his life.” Upon inquiry, it was found
that the generous soldier prayed for
the lives of his two comrades who had
been taken asleep on the watch. The
emperor nobly forgave them all.
(h) THE TRAVELLER’S GIFT.
——About the year 1797, Mr. M. was
travelling from a town on the eastern
berderof Vermont, to another town on the
western side of the same state. Passing
over the mountainous part of the coun-
try, between the Connecticut and Onion
rivers, he perceived the heavens to be
gathering blackness; the sound of dis-
tant thunder was heard, and a heavy
shower of rain was seen to be fast ap-
proaching. The traveller was then in
a forest; no place of shelter appeared,
and he hastened on until he arrived at
a small cottage on the extreme border
of the woods. The rain just then began
to rush down with great violence. He
sprang from his horse, pulled off his
saddle, and without ceremony went
into the house. Surprised to see no
family, but a female with an infant
child, he began to apologize for his sud-
den appearance; and hoped she would
not be alarmed, but permit him to tarry
till the rain had abated. She replied,
that she was glad he had happened to
come in, for she was always much ter-

rified by thunder. “ Bht why, madam,”
asked he, “should you be afraid of
thunder? It is the voice of God, and
will do no harm to those who love him
and commit themselves to his care.”
After conversing with her for a while
on this topic, he inquired if she had
any neighbors who were religious. She
told him she had neighbors about two
miles off, but whether they were reli-
gious or not she did not know; only
she had heard that some man was in
the habit of coming there to preach once
a fortnight. ‘Her husband went once,
but she had never been to their meet-
ings. In regard to every thing of a
.religious kind, she appeared to be pro-
foundly ignorant.
The rain had now passed over, and the
face of nature smiled. The pious tra-
veller, about to depart, expressed to the
woman his thanks for her hospitality
and his earnest desire for the salvation
of her soul. He earnestly besought
her to read her Bible daily, and to give
good heed to it, as to “ a light shining
in a dark place.” She, with tears in
her eyes, confessed that she had no
Bible. They had never been able to
buy one. “Could you read one, II you
had it '2” “Yes, sir, and would be glad
to do so.” “ Poor woman,” said he,
“I do heartily pity you; farewell.”
He was preparing to pursue his jour-
ney. But he refiemee : “ I‘h1s woman
is in very great need of a Bible. Oh
that I had one [0 give oer! But I have
not. As for money to buy one, I have
none to spare: 1 nave no more than
will be absolutely necessary for mv
expenses home. I must go: but if i
leave this woman without the means to
procure tne word of God, she may per-
ish for lack of knowledge. I/Vhat shall
I do? ’ He recollected the Scriptures,
“ He that hath pity on the poor, lendeth
to the Lord.” “Cast thy bread upon
the waters, for thou shalt find it after
many days.” His heart responded. “I
will trust the Lord." He took a dollar
from his purse, went back, and desired
the woman to take it, and as soon as
possible procure for herself a Bible.
She promised to do so, saying, that she
knew where one could be obtained.
He again took his leave, and set off
109
47
BENEFICENCE.
--_-._,
_\
-_.-.“_
As there were then but few taverns on
the read, he asked for a lodging at a
private house, near which he found
himself when night overtook him. He
had yet a few pieces of change in his
pocket; but as a journey of two more
days was before him, he purposed to
make his supper on a cold morsel which
he had with him. But when the family
came round their table to take their
evening repast, the master of the house
very urgently invited the stranger to
join with them-——not only so, but to
crave God’s blessing on their meal. He
now began to feel himself among friends,
and at liberty to speak freely on Divine
things. The family appeared gratified
in listening to his discourse till a late
hour: it was a season of refreshing to
their thirsty souls. In the morning, the
traveller was urged to tarry till break-
fast, but declined, the distance he had
to travel requiring him to set off early.
His host would take no compensation,
and he departed, giving him many
thanks. He travelled on till late in the
morning, when, finding no public house,
he stopped again at a private one for
refreshment. While waiting, he lost
no time to recommend Christ and him
crucified to the family. When ready
to depart, he offered to pay the mistress
of the house, who had waited upon him
very kindly, for his repast, and the oats
for his horse; but she would receive
nothing. Thus he went on, asking for
refreshment as often as he needed it,
and recommending religion wherever
he called ; and always offering, as ano-
ther traveller would do, to pay his ex-
penses ; but no one would accept his
money, although it was not known that
his stock was so low, for he told them
not, and his appearance was respec-
table : at home he was a man of wealth.
“ What,” thought he, “does this mean’.2
I was never treated in this manner on
a journey before.” The dollar given
to the destitute woman recurred to his
mind; and conscience replied, “I have
been well paid. It is, indeed, safe
lending to the Lord.” On the second
day after he left the cottage in the
wilderness he arrived safely at home;
and still had money for the pot r, having
been at no cost whatever.

About a year and a half after this, a
stranger called at the house of Mr. M.
for some refreshment. 1n the course
of conversation, he observed that he
lived on the other side of the mountain,
near Connecticut river. Mr. M. in-
quired whether the people in that vici-
nity paid much attention to religion.
The traveller replied, “ Not much; but
in a town twenty or thirty miles beyond
the river, with which I am acquainted,
there has been a powerful revival.
The commencement of it was very
extraordinary. The first person that
was awakened and brought to recent-
ance, was a poor woman, who lived 'n
a very retired place. She told her
friends and neighbors that a stranger
was driven into her house by a thunder-
storm, and talked to her so seriously,
that she began, while listening to his
discourse, to feel concerned about her
soul. The gentleman was much af-
fected when he found that she had no
Bible; and, after he had left the house
to go on his journey, returned again,
and gave her a dollar to buy one ; and
charged her to get it soon, and read it
diligently. She did so; and it had
been the means, as she believed, of
bringing her from darkness into light;
from a state of stupidity and sin, to de-
light in the truth and ways of God.
The name of this pious man, or the
place of his residence, she knew not.
But she believed it was the Lord that
sent him. At this relation, and the
great change which was obvious in the
woman, her neighbors wondered much.
They were induced to meditate on the
goodness, wisdom, and power of God,
displayed in this singular event of his
providence. They were led to think
af the importance of attending more to
the Bible themselves; and were finally
awakened to a deep concern for the
salvation of their souls. As many as
thirty or forty are already hopefully
converted, and rejoicing in God their
Savior.” Mr. M., who had listened to
this relation with a heart swelling more
and more with wonder, gratitude, and
joy, could refrain no longer; but, with
hands and eyes upraised to heaven, ex-
claimed, “ My God, thou hast paid me
again l”
110
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE.
47
“--I
(z') THANKSGIVING PRESENTS.
--The following anecdote was com-
municated to the editor of this work,
by Capt. S., a late agent of the Am.
Betbel Society. The day before thanks-
giving, in the State of New-York, I
was at F., and just aboutto return to O.,
where I resided, when I observed a
country sleigh, with a load of chickens,
dressed for the market. The thought
struck me that there was this poor
neighbor’ and that poor neighbor in
O. who would receive a brace of these
fowls from me with a great deal of
pleasure, and that if by making such a
present, I should add to their happiness
on thanksgiving day, I should thereby
add not a little to my own. As the
countryman came up, I asked him at
what price he would sell them. He
was anxious to get home, and 0fi'ered to
dispose of them cheap, and I took the
whole eleven pair, thoughI scarcely
knew what I could do with them. My
wife was astonished at my load of
chickens, when I returned home; but
learning my design, she approved of it,
and entered with a warm heart into my
plans. The next morning I engaged
my two little boys to take upon them
selves the business of being almoners
of their father’s bounty; for I have
ever felt it important for the develop-
ment of benevolence in children, that
they should be encouraged to take as
much part as possible in the benevolent
projects of their parents. They bore a
brace of chickens, along with pork,
apples and pies, to this poor family, and
the like gift to another poor family, until
all but three pair of fowls were disposed
of. I/Vhen they returned their coun-
tenances glowed with satisfaction, and
in relating the expressions of surprise
and gratitude which they had heard that
morning from the lips of poverty and
want, parents and children wept with
delight together. I felt even then repaid
for what I had done. But what was
most remarkable, followed. About 11
o’clock, some one rapped at the front
door with a nice fat turkey, as a present
from one of the neighbors to Capt. S.
and his family. In a little while a rap
was heard at the back door, and who

should be there but Capt. A. with a fine
round cut of pork, weighing perhaps '20
or 30 pounds, which he insisted on our
taking. Then came two braces of fowls,
one from one neighbor, and the other
from another neighbor, at the same
time. And so the gifts kept pouring in
until dinner, and even afterwards, till we
received preciwly as many chickens as
we had given away, more apples, more
pies, more pork, and a turkey besides.
Who could but think of the text, “ Give
and it shall be given unto you, good
measure, pressed down, and running
over.” I could not but feel that God in
this case had made aeonnexion between
my giving and receiving, but the bless-
ing bestowed was less a reward than the
inward luxury of doing good. The be-
nevolent joy of that day has been tasted
over and over again since, by the power
of memory, hundreds of times.
FINDING A BAG OF MONEY.
——A venerable clergyman in the west
of England, of the name of Thompson,
had annually for many years made it
his custom to distribute the overplus of
his farm among the poor of his parish,
after having supplied the wants of his
own household.
One year, however, he was compelled
to depart from this plan. His benevo-
lence had led him to engage to give
thirty pounds towards the erection of a
chapel, in a town whose inhabitants
needed more church room. He was
compelled, instead of giving his corn to
the poor, to sell as much of it as
would raise the sum promised. He
regretted the circumstance, but it was
unavoidable.
Having thus I)1‘O(.1l1‘6(l the money, he
left his home to be the bearer of his own
benef-action. On the road he overtook
a young lady, mounted on a single horse
like himself, whom he accosted with
frankness and kindness. They travel-
led together over a down, and found
they were going to the same place.
His conversation and manner won much
on the respect of the young lady, who
listened with attention to his serious and
holy conversation. She learned his
name, and his residence, and, when they
were about to pr rt, was invi ed by the
1] 1
47
BENEFIGENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE.

old clergyman to call upon him at his
friend’s house in the town.
In the course of the evening, the
young lady related with great pleasure,
at her friend’s where she was on a visit,
the very gratifying journey she had
travelled, with a clergyman of the name
cf Thompson.
“ Thompson l” exclaimed the lady
of the house; “I wish it was Mr.
Thompson for whom we have for many
years been inquiring in vain. I have
money, tied up in a bag by my late
husband, due to a person of that name,
who desired to leave it till called for.
But I suppose he is dead, and his exe-
cutor, whoever he be, knows nothing
of it.” It was proposed that the old
clergyman should be asked if this were
any relation of his. He was sent for,
came, and it soon appeared, that the
Ir. Thompson, to whom the money
was so long due, was his own brother,
who had been dead several years, and
to whose effects he was executor and
residuary legatee.
The money was paid him; he fell
on his knees, blessed God, who had
thus interposed on behalf of his poor
people, hastened to his friend to tell
him the joyful news, and as he entered
his house exclaimed, “Praise God: tell
it in Gath, publish it in Askelon, that
our God is a faithful God.”
(It) BAXTER’S TESTIMONY.—
One help to my success, says Baxter,
was the relief which my estate enabled
me to afford to the poor. The situation
which I held, was reckoned at near
‘2\".-C‘Z. per annum ; but there came only
from eighty to ninety pounds to hand.
Besides which, some years I had sixty
or eighty pounds a year of the booksell-
ers for my books which I wrote. This
little, dispersed among them, much re-
conciled them to the doctrine that I
taught. I took the aptest of their chil-
dren from the school, and sent divers
of them to the universities, where, for
eight pounds a year, or ten at most, by
the help of my friends, I maintaihed
them. In giving the little I had, I did
not inquire if they were good or bad,
if they asked relief; for the bad had
souls and bodies that needed charity

.~_ ' - -- --_—_.__
most. And this truth I will speak, for
the encouragement of the charitable,
that what little money I have by me
now, I got it almost all, I scarcely
know how, at that time when I gave
most; and since I have had less oppor-
tunity of giving, I have had less in-
crease.
(Z) VVHITFIELD AND THE
CHURL.-—VVhile the Rev. G. \/Vhit.
field was preaching on one occasion at
Plymouth, he lodged with Mr’. Kinsman,
a minister of the town. After breakfast
on Monday, he said to his ITIGIIJ,
“Come, let us visit some of your poor
people. It is not emugh that we labor
in the pulpit; we must endeavor to be
useful out of it.” On entering the
dwellings of the afllicted poor, be ad-
ministered to their temporal as well as
spiritual Wants. Mr. K., knowing the
low state of his finances, was surprised
at his liberality, and suggested that ‘he
thought he had been too bountiful. Mr.
W., with some degree of smartness, re-
plied: “ It is not enough, young man,
to pray, and put on a serious face; true
religion, and undefiled, is this—-to visit
the widow and the fatherless in their
affliction, and to supply their wants.
My stock, it is true, is nearly exhausted;
but God, whom I serve, and whose
saints we have assisted, will, I doubt
not, soon give me a supply.’7 lHis hopes
were not disappointed. A stranger call-
ed on him in the evening, who address-
ed him thus: “With great pleasure I
have heard you preach; you are on a
journey, as well as myself, and travel-
ling is expensive. Do me the honor to
accept this,” at the same time present-
ing him with five guineas. Returning
to the family, Mr. Whitfield, smiling,
held out the money in his hand, saying:
“There, young man, God has speedily
repaid what I bestowed. Let this in
future teach you not to withhold what
it is in the power of your hand to give.
The gentleman to whom I was called
is a perfect stranger to me; his only
business was to give me the sum you
see.” It is remarkable, that this gentle-
man, though rich, was notorious for a
penurious disposition: but Elijah was
fed by ravens.
11‘)
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE.
-I7
-
(m) A HUNDRED GUINEAS FOR
A BIBLE.——A young girl entered the
shop of Mr. B., a bookseller, desiring
him to exchange a prayer-book, which
she brought with her, for a Bible. He
gave her a Bible, and bade her keep the
prayer-book also. Some time after, this
girl was taken in the service of Rev.
Mr. Cecil. On her first coming into
the family, Mr. Cecil inquired if she
had a Bible ; to which she answered in
the affirmative, and told him from whom
she received it. Mr. Cecil was pleased
with the circumstances, and finding out
Mr. B., recommended him to his friends.
During Mr. Cecil’s absence from town,
however, Mr. B. became involved in
serious pecuniary difficulties, and was
compelled to give up his business, and
return to a mechanical employment,
which he had learned in his youth.
The violent exertion attendant on this
occupation occasioned a painful illness:
he remained some time in a hospital, but
at length left, and retired to an obscure
lodging, without any adequate means of
support for himself and family. To this
place Mr. Cecil, on his arrival in town,
with difficulty traced him. An early
interview took place, and Mr. B., having
stated his misfortunes, “ Well, B.,” said
Mr. Cecil, “ what can be done for you’2
Would a hundred guineas be of any
service to you 2” “I should be truly.
thankful for such a sum,” saiu B. ; “ it
would be of great use to me, but I can-
not expect it.” “ Well,” returned Mr.
Cecil, “ I am not a rich man, and I have
not got a hundred guineas to give you ;
but,” continued be, putting his hand in
his pocket, “I have got one ,- here it is
at your service, and I will undertake
to make it a hundred in a few days.”
Mr. Cecil represented the case to his
friends, fulfilled his promise, and the
Bible which B. had formerly given to
a child, indirectly procured the means
of once more opening his shop, and af-
fording him subsistence.
, (u) THE KING’S LAST LOAF.—-
Alfred the Great, who died in the year
900, was of a most amiable disposition,
and, we would hope, of genuine piety.
Durmg his retrea.t at Athelney, in Som-
ersetshire, after his defeat by the Danes,
a beggar came to his little castle, and

“-
requested alms. His queen informed
Alfred that they had but one small loa‘
remaining, which was insufficient for
themselves and their friends, who were
gone in search of food, though with lit-
tle hope of success. The king replied,
“ Give the poor Christian one half of the
leaf. He that could feed five thousand
men with five leaves and two fishes, can
certainly make the half loaf suffice for
more than our necessity.” The poor
man was accordingly relieved, and
Alfred’s people shortly after returned
with a store of fresh provz'sz'ons !
(0) THE POOR PHYSICIAN .—
A year last November, says a mission-
ary agent, I preached a missionary ser-
mon in the town of , and took a sub-
scription. A physician subscribed and
paid $55. A gentleman standing by told
me that the $5 was all he had, or was
worth: that he had lost his property
and paid up his debts and moved into
town to commence practice, with no
other resources than that five dollar
bill. He and his wife were obliged to
board out, as he was not able to keep
house.
I resolved at once that I would keep
watch of that man, and see what the
Lord would do with him.
About a year after this interview, I
visited the place again, and put up with
this physician. I found him keeping
house in good style. In conversation
with him, I brought up the duty of
Christian benevolence, and spoke of
God’s faithfulness to fulfil his promises
to the liberal.
He told me he knew a physician
who, the last year, gave away the last
five dollars he had in the world, re.
solving to trust the Lord for the future
During the next summer, while the
cholera raged in the country, by a
series of events guided, as he believed,
by the providence of God, 1nost of the
practice was thrown intd the hands of
this physician, and he had taken more
than $2,500.
I told him I knew him to be the man
referred to, and that I had been keeping
watch to see what the Lord would dr
with him.
Oh, sir, if we would, all of us, only
trust in the Lord, and more abundantly

113
-17
B ENEFICENCE.
give of our substance to aid in spreading
the gospel, and throw open our eyes to
read the providence, as well as word of
God, We might not only speedily supply
the whole world with Bibles, but our
hearts would overflow with constant
gratitude in view of the evident interpo-
sitions of Providence in our behalf.
(p) THE STUDENT’S TRICK.-
A young man of eighteen or twenty, a
student in a university, took a walk one
day with a professor, who was commonly
called the student’s friend, such was his
kindness to the young men whom it was
his office to instruct.
WVhile they were walking together,
and the professor was seeking to lead
the conversation to grave subjects, they
saw a pair of old shoes lying in their
path, which they supposed to belong to
a poor man who was at work close by,
and who had nearly finished his day’s
work ,
The young student turned to the
professor, saying, “ Let us play the man
a trick; we will hide his shoes, and
conceal ourselves behind those bushes,
and watch to see his perplexity when
he cannot find them.”
“ My dear friend,” answered the
professor, “ we must never amuse our-
selves at the expense of the poor. But
you are rich, and you may give your-
self a much greater pleasure. Put a
dollar into each shoe, and then we will
hide ourselves.”
The student did so, and then placed
himself with the professor behind the
bushes close by, through which they
could easily watch the laborer, and see
whatever wonder or joy he might
express.
The poor man soon finished his work,
and came across the field to the path,
where he had left his coat and shoes.
While he put on the coat, he slipped
one foot into one of his shoes ; but feel-
ing something hard, he stooped down
and found the dollar. Astonishment
and wonder were seen upon his counte-
nance ; he gazed upon the dollar, turn-
ed it round, and looked again and again ;
then he looked around rim on all sides,
but could see no one. N ow he put the
ma ey in his pocket and proceeded to
put on the other shoe, but how great

was his astonishment when he found the
other dollar! His feelings overcame
him ; he fell upon his knees, looked up
to heaven and uttered aloud a fervent
thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his
wife, sick and helpless, and his children
without bread, whom this timely bounty,
fnom some unknown hand, would save
from perishing.
The young man stood there deeply
affected, and tears filled his eyes.
“Now,” said the professor, “ are
you not much better pleased than if you
had played your intended trick '2”
“ O dearest sir,” answered the youth,
“ you have taught me a lesson now that
I will never forget. I feel now the
truth of the words which I never before
understood, ‘ it is better to give than to
receive.’ ”
(q) THE SOUTHRON’S LIBER-
ALITY.—A Southern gentleman, gay
and worldly, was very friendly to an
evangelical church in his neighbor-
hood ; and as they were accustomed to
hold camp meetings year after year,
he had a beautiful plot of his forest
land cleared of brush and fallen trees,
and fitted up with convenient cabins
or booths, for the accommodation of
the worshippers, at his own expense.
His liberality to the church was such
as to attract not a little attention, on
account of his being so far from any
thing like religion himself. One of
his compariions one day rallied him on
his incongruous benevolence, and in-
quired why he would make such a fool
of himself as to throw away his money
in behalf of such an object’.2 His re-
ply in substance was, “You do not
understand it; I am no loser by my
liberality to the church, but for every
five dollars I give to them, God’s provi
dence in some way brings me back a
hundred ! ”
If shrewd-minded, worldly men, like
the above, are sometimes clear-sighted
enough to see the wisdom of “casting
their bread on the waters,” what shill
be said of those professed Christians
who are so unbelieving as to regard
what is contributed to benevolent efforts,
as so much sacrificed or utterly thrown
away ‘I
114
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PR.\ VIDENCE.
47
(1') “GOD LOVETI-I A CHEER-
FUL GIVER.”-—“ How is it, Betty,”
said an eloer of the church to a very
poor woman in Wales, (who was always
observed to contribute something when-
ever a collection was taken ;) how is it
thatl always see you drop something
in the plate’.2 I/Vhere do you get it '2”
“Oh, sir, I do not know,” she replied ;
“the Lord knows my heart and my
good-will to his cause; and somehow
or other, when a collection is to be
made, I am sure to have my penny
before me ; and when it comes, I put it
in the late.”
“Well,” said he, “you have been
faithful in a little, take this sovereign,
and do what you will with it.” “ A
sovereign, sir!” said she; “I never
had so much money in my life as a
sovereign; what shall I do with it '2”
“I dare say you will find means of
spending it,” said he, “if your heart is
devoted to the Lord’s cause.” Soon
after this, a man came round to,solicit
subscriptions for some benevolent ob-
iect: he went to one of the elders, who
gave him half a sovereign, and another
gave him five shillings ; both of which
were regarded as very liberal dona-
tions. N ot liking to pass by any mem-
ber of the church, he asked this poor
woman what she would do. “ Put my
name down for a sovereign.” “A
sovereign!” said he ; “ why, where did
you get a sovereign '2” “Oh, sir,”
said she, “I got it honestly: put my
name down for a sovereign.” She gave
him the sovereign, and in about two
weeks from that time she received a
letter from Doctors’ Commons informing
her that a friend had just left her one
hundred pounds!
(8) THE INFIDEL’S DONATION.
~—In an address before the Indiana Bible
Society, the following facts were stated :
An agent once requested an infidel
surgeon to make a donation to a bene-
volent object. He told the agent he
did not give money to such objects.
He was assured he would be none the
poorer for giving. “Do you believe
that '2’ ’ replied the doctor. “ Yes, I do.”
“ VV ell, I will try it,” was the answer;
and he took out $20, and gave him.
The agent requested him to eye the

providence of God, and see if it was not
soon repaid to him double. He said he
would take care to look out for that.
When he reached home he found a
letter requesting him to come immedi-
ately and perform a very diflicult sur-
gical operation upon a man worth
$200,000 or $300,000. VVhen he had
done his work, and was about leaving,
the son came to him and said, My
father’s heart is upon his money, and
as he is now very feeble, I fear it may
destroy him to be called upon to pay
a very heavy bill. I wish the charge
you present to him should be small, and
I will make up the balance.
He told the son he was willing to
make out just such a bill as his father
would think right. I/Vhat do you think
he would be willing to pay '2 He said
$200. The surgeon took the $200,
and told the agent the next time they
met, that the Lord had .paid him back
fivefold : that if he had been left to him-
self, he should not have charged more
than $100. Such facts might be mul-
tiplied without limit.
(t) A LOAN TO THE LORD.—~
“ A poor minister,” says Rev. Mr.
Spencer, of New-York, “once called
upon me saying that his horse and car-
riage were under a mortgage, which
was soon to be foreclosed and he had
no money to pay it. During the
night, on which he stayed at my house,
I was much disturbed in thinking over
his case. I felt as if I must help him,
though my circumstances at first view
seemed to forbid the idea. On parting
with the good man in the morning,I
made him a presentof five dollars, which
was all the moneyl had. He hesitated
when he saw the amount, and said so
large a donation might embarrass me.
‘ No,’ said I; ‘it is indeed all I have,
but you should have more if I had it:
I consider I am lending to the Lord,
and have no doubt it will soon bere-
turned again.’ The same day, making
a call upon one of my parishioners, who
paid regularly towards my support,
three dollars were unexpectedly put in
my hand. And not long after, as Iwas
dining with another family of my con-
gregation, who likewise helped to make
up my salary, weliltipre convrrsing on
£7
BENEFICENCE.
the reflex benefits of beneficence, and I
remarked that all I had ever lent to the
Lord, had been paid back in some un-
expected way, with the exception of
two dollars! Upon this the wife rose
up and stepped towards the mantel-
piece, while her husband smilingly ob-
served that his wife, a short time ago,
lead laid up two dollars in the clock for
me, and they were now happy to have
this opportunity of completing the pay-
ment of my recent loan to the Lord I”
(u) THE MINISTER’S DONA-
TION.--About the year 1839, says
Rev. W. H. Spencer, I attended the
Bridgewater Association in Pennsyl-
vania, and was called upon to preach
a discourse on Foreign Missions. I
felt deeply, and the sympathies of the
audience became so enlisted in behalf
of the object that an unusually large
contribution was taken up.
In the afternoon a warm and excel-
lent discourse was preached by another
minister on Home Missions. During
his sermon the intrinsic importance of
the subject forced itself upon my mind,
and led me to agitate the question how
much it would be possible to give to the
cause myself. I was indeed in a great
strait between charity and necessity. I
felt desirous to contribute; but then I
was on a journey, andl had given so
much in the morning, that I really feared
I had no more money than would bear
my expenses. But when, at the conclu-
sion of the discourse, the speaker said he
could hardly expect a large collection af-
ter the amount they had given in the
morning, my mind was decided ; and I
arose and stated my convictions of the
importance of Home Missions, and for
the sake of example, I informed the
assembly what were my circumstances,
but that I had made up my mind to give
a dollar and trust in God to provide.
And the result was, that as large a con-
tribution was obtained as in the morn-
ing. At the close of the Association I
proceeded on my journey ; and the next
day called on a friend and paid him
some forty dollars, which I had collected
for him. I was now about 140 miles
from home, with scarce a dollar in my
pocket; and how my expenses would
be met,I could not imagine. But judge

" ‘
my surprise, when on presenting the
money to my friend he took a hundred
dollars, and adding it to the forty, placed
the whole amount in my hand, saying,
he would make me a present of it .' I
had, to be sure, rendered him some small
services of a similar nature before, but
I considered him under no obligations,
and was expecting nothing of the kind I
Gratitude and joy swelled my bosom;
my mind at once recurred to my contri-
bution the day previous, and I felt con-
vinced that Ihad seen a literal fulfil-
ment of the promise, “ Give and it shall
be given unto you, good measure pressed
down and running over, whit“ men give
into your bosom.”
('0) THE DAIRYMAN AND THE
CHEESE.—The Agent of an Educa-
tion Society called one day on Mr. S.,
a member of a church in New Berlin,
New-York. Mr. S. was largely en-
gaged in the dairying business. He
was a benevolent man, and for some
time had given five dollars yearly to
the above-named Society. The agent
urged him to give twenty dollars in-
stead of five, and told him he believed
that if he would contribute this sum, in
the exercise of self-denying benevo-
lence, it would soon be returned again,
and with large interest too. In proof
of this he quoted such passages as
these——“ The liberal soul deviseth
liberal things, and by liberal things
shall he stand.” “ He that watereth,
shall be watered also himself,” &c.
“I do not believe any such doctrine,”
said Mr. S., “nor agree to any such
application of Scripture. However, I
will give the twenty dollars.” Not
many hours after this a neighbor of Mr.
S. came to him, and wished him to buy
a large amount of cheese of him. The
terms were moderate, and the bargain
was concluded.
A day or two afterwards a gentle-
man called on Mr. S. to purchase
cheese, and he sold him the lot he had
just bought, and at such an advance in
the price that he made a hundred dol-
lars by the exchange! Mr. S. was
now fully reconciled to the agent’s
doctrine, and his application of the fore-
going promises. He was new con-
strained to acknowledge that the Lord
116
)
BENEFICENCE REWARDED BY PROVIDENCE.
47
,--_-—--—-’
nad indeed rewarded his beneficence,
and rewarded it five-fold. He used
afterwards to delight in relating the
above incident as an illustration of the
connection between giving and receiv-
ing, which it had led him to recognize
-—-as a proof of the doctrine that he who
gives liberally to benevolent objects,
other things equal, will be the more
liberally supplied with the blessings of
Providence himself.
(20) THE PHYSICIAN AND THE
CI-IURL.—At the recognition of a
church in New-York, in 1847, the
bllowing incident was related :—
In a village in the southern part of
New-York, the Baptist church had been
for some time in a languishing condi-
don. At length a new minister was
called to labor with them. The church
was poor, and he was supported prin-
cipally by two or three individuals.
With one of these, a physician, he
boarded: he was a member of the
church, and unusually benevolent, but
his wife was an unconverted woman,
rather parsimonious, and seemed to
take umbrage at every act of her hus-
band’s liberality. The church met in
a long, low, unfinished building, with
the naked rafters overhead. At length
a revival of religion occurred, and one
of the converts was the physician’s
wife. Her heart was enlarged, and
she said one day to her husband that
they must have a new meeting-house.
The doctor had about one thousand
dollars laid up; and though his wife
had often expressed her fears that her
husband’s generosity would force them
to draw upon this little fund, and the
family be reduced to want, she now
suggested that he had better give the
whole sum to the new meeting-house,
and leave the result with God. He
readily assented, and put down his
name on the subscription list for a thou-
sand dollars.
In the same congregation there was
a wealthy farmer; his wife was pious
and liberal, but he was worldly and
avaricious. He Was urged to subscribe
to the same obj ‘ct; but he would

neither give any thing himself or suffer
his wife to give. As God would have
it, an epidemic not long after made its
ravages in the community, and the
farmer and his children were taken
very sick. The wife, we believe, was
the only member of the family who
escaped. The pious physician was
called upon to attend them in their sick-
ness; their disease was so malignant,
and so long continued, that he received
at least one thou-sano. dollars for his ser-
vices! So the avaricious farmer had
to pay the liberal physician’s subscrip-
tion! The beneficence of the latter
was thus amply rewarded, to say noth-
ing of the large sums received from the
increase of his practice in the commu-
nity around him.
N 0TE.—It would be wrong to argue from the
foregoing examples that all benevolent efforts,
donations, and alms, will be rewarded with the
blessings of Providence in the present life. A
man may give largely to-day, and die suddenly
to-morrow; but then he receives his reward on
high. Or, notwithstanding his hberahty, God,
who loves him as a Father, may see that he
needs the moral discipline of adversity, and thus
may apply the chastising rod for his spiritual
profit. Or a man may give without discretion,
or without proper regard to JUSEICG, as will be
seen at 49b, in the case of Goldsnnth; or he
may give merely from selfish motives, or at
least without reference to God’s glory, or re—
gard to his promises. In such cases God does
not pledge himself to grant the liberal any
pecuniary or secular advantages in return for
their liberality. But still we believe that God
has so arranged his government that, as a
general rule, the more men cherish and de-
velop true benevolence, the more will the bless-
ings of Providence be multiplied upon them.
They will see no miracle wrought in their be-
half; but God, working in and through natural
laws, will often cause the most striking and
beautiful connections between men’s displays
of goodness towards others, and his displays
of goodness towards them. The cases alluded
to above, are to be regarded as exceptions to
the general rule. I/Ve heartily agree with the
statement of Dr. Harris—and the foregoing
incidents illustrate it--that “ the most marked
interpositions and signal blessings of even
earthly prosperity, have attended the practice
of Christian libemhty in every age. Volumes
might be filled With well attested instances of
the remarkable manner in which God has hon~
ored those who in faith and obedience have
devoted their property to Him.”
117
48
BEN EVOLEN CE.
BENEVOLENCE.
48. Benevolence, Want of.
(a) LOSING A SEAT IN CON-
GRESS.—-“ Sir, bring me a good plain
dinner,” said a melancholy looking in-
dividual to a waiter at one of our prin-
eipal hotels.
The ‘dinner was brought and de-
voured, and the eater called the land-
lord aside, and thus addressed him.--
“ You are the landlord ?” “ Yes.” “You
do a good business here '2” “Yes I” (in
astonishment.)
“You make, probably, ten dollars a
day clear Cl”
“Yes.”
“ Then I am safe. I cannot pay for
what I have consumed; I have been
out of employment seven months; but
have engaged to go to work to-morrow.
I had been without food four-and-twenty
hours when I entered your place. I
“ ill pay you in a week.” “I cannot
pay my bills with such premises,” blus-
tered the landlord, and “I do not keep a
poorhouse. You should address the
proper authorities. Leave me something
for security.”
“I have nothing.”
“ I will take your coat.”
“ If I go into the streets without that,
such weather as it is, I may get my
death.”
“You should have thought of that
before you came here.”
“ A re you serious ? Well, Isolemn-
ly aver that in one week from nowI
will pay you.”
“I will take the coat.”
The coat was left, and a week after-
wards redeemed. Seven years after
that, a wealthy man entered the politi-
cal arena, and was presented at a can-
cus as an applicant for a congressional
nomination. The principal of the cau-
cus held Iris peace; he heard the name
and the history of the applicant, who
was a member of the church, and one
of the most respectable citizens. He
was chairman. The vote was a tie, and
be cast a negative, thereby defeating
the wealthy applicant, whom he met an

hour afterwards, and 0 whom he said,
“ You don’t remembe me '2”
“No.”
“I once ate a dinner at your hotel ;
and, although I told you I was famish-
ing and pledged my word and honor
to pay you in a week, you took my
coat and saw me go out into the in-
clement air, at the risk of my life, with-
out it.”
“ Well, sir, what then ?”
“Not much. You called yoursel a
Chrz'stz'an. To-night you were a candi-
date for nomination, and buffer me you
would have been elected to Congress !"
Three years after, the Christian hotel-
keeper became bankrupt, and sought a
home in Bellevue. The poor dinner-
less wretch that Was, afterwards became
a high functionary in Albany.
(b) “I DO NOT MEAN THAT.”
—A gentleman who had been conspic-
uous in aiding a missionary collection,
was met the following day by one of
dissimilar habits, who chided him for
the absurd eccentricity of which he
deemed him guilty in giving to such an
object and in such profusion. It was
preposterous, he said, to be sending
heaps of money abroad, to be spent, no
one knew how, while there were so
many unemployed and starving in
“ I will give pounds to the poor
of if you Will give an equal sum ;”
said the Christian friend. “I did not
mean that,” replied the objector ; “ but,”
continued he, “ if you must go from
home, why so far? Think of the mis-
erable poor of Ireland.” “ I will give
pounds to the poor of Ireland, if
you will give the same.” “Ido not
mean that either,” was the reply. No,
it is neither this nor that, which this
0.3.88 of objectors exactly mean ; but
simply to veil their criminal parsimony
by excepting against the proceedings of
liberal men, Whom, if they could not
condemn, they must, for very shame,
in some degree imitate.
(0) THE RECTOR AND THE
POOR BOY.——An indigent boy applied
for aims at the house of a 1 avariciouza


I 18
BENEVOLENCE MISDIRECTEI).
48, 49
-
rector, and received a dry mouldy crust.
The rector inquired of the boy if he
could say the Lord’s Prayer, and was
answered in the negative. “Then,”
said the rector, “I will teach you that.’ ’
“ Our Father l”--“ Our Father !” said
the boy, “is he my Father as well as
yours '2” “ Yes, certainly.” “ Then,”
replied the boy, “how could you give
your poor brother this mouldy crust of
bread ?”
(d) FEELING IN THE WRONG
PLACE.——A plain, good-hearted, mat-
ter-of-fact kind of man, who understood
that a poor woman and her family were
reduced to extreme distress by the loss
of a cow, which was their principal
support, generously went round among
his neighbors to solicit that aid which
he was unable to give himself. He
told a plain, simple, and pathetic tale,
and received from each a very liberal
donation of regret, sorrow, sympathy,
&c. But, thought be, this will not buy
a cow, and he consequently redoubled
his exertions, and to the same effect.
He now lost all patience, and after being
answered as usual by the son of Midas,
with a plentiful shower of sympathetic
feeling, “ Oho, yes, I don’t doubt your
feeling, but you don’t feel in the right
place.” “Oh,” said he, “I feel with
all my heart and soul.” “Yes, yes,”
replied the solicitor, “I don’t doubt that
either, butI want you to feel in your
pocket-”
49. Benevolence lllisdirected.
(a) BENEVOLENCE OF LAS
CASAS.—One of the most benevolent
men, of whom history gives us any ac-
count, was Bartholomew Las Casas,
bishop of Chiapa. In 1502 he accom-
panied Orando to Hispaniola. who had
been commissioned and sent out as the
Spanish governor to that island. He
there witnessed, with all the pain of a
naturally benevolent heart, the cruel
treatment which was experienced by
the native inhabitants; the deprivation
of their personal rights, the seizure of

their lands, their severe toil ana inexor-
able punishment. He was deeply afi
fected ; and from that time devoted the
whole of his subsequent life, a period
of more than sixty years, to exertions
in their behalf. Under the impulse of
a most unquestionable benevolence, this
good man recommended to Cardinal
Ximenes, who was at that time head of
Spanish affairs, the introduction of negro
slaves into the West India islands, as
one of the best modes to relieve the na-
tive inhabitants.
The measures of Las Casas, which
tended to introduce enslaved Africans
into the Spanish islands, were the re-
sults, beyond all question, of an exalted
benevolence; but how wofully misdi-
rected was such a benevolence! The
injury done by it no human mind can
compute.
(1)) DR. GOLDSMITH AND THE
BEGGAR.——A common female beggar
once asked alms of Dr. Goldsmith as he
walked with his friend up F leet-street.
He generously gave her a shilling.
His companion, who knew something of
the woman, censured the hard for ex-
cess of humanity, adding, that the shil-
ling was much misapplied, for she would
spend it in liquor. “ If it makes her
happy in any way,” replied the doc-
tor, “ my end is answered.” The doc-
tor’s humanity was not always regu-
lated by discretion. Being once much
pressed by his tailor for a bill of forty
pounds, a day was fixed for payment
Goldsmith procured the money; bu
Mr. Glover calling on him, and relat-
ing a piteous tale of his goods being
seized for rent, the thoughtless, but be-
nevolent doctor gave him the whole of
the money. The tailor called, and was
told, that if he had come a little sooner
he would have received the money, but
he had just parted with every shilling
of it to a friend in distress, adding, “I
should have been an unfeeling monster
not to have relieved distress when in
my power.” That is no true benevo-
lence which leads a ma‘ to be unjust.
BEREAVEMENTS.
.—-_-—__—- ,-i
BEREAV EMEN TS.
60. The Bereaved Comferted.
(a) LEGI-I RICHMOND’S MOTH-
ER.—My mother, says the Rev. Legh
Richmond, had six children; three of
whom died in infancy. A very af-
fecting circumstance accompanied the
death of one of them, which was a se-
vere trial to her maternal feelings. Her
then youngest child, a sweet little boy,
only just two years old, through the
carelessness of his nurse, fell from a
bedroom window upon the pavement
beneath. I was at that time six years
of age, and happened to be walking up-
on the very spot when the distressing
event occurred. I was, therefore, the
first to take him up. I delivered into our
agonized mother’s arms the poor little
sufferer. The head was fractured, and
he survived the fall only about thirty
hours. I st.ll preserve a very lively
and distinct remembrance of the strug-
gle between the natural feelings of the
mother, and the spiritual resignation of
the Christian. She passed the interval
of suspense in almost continual prayer,
and found God a present help in time
of trouble. Frequently during that day
did she retire with me ; and, as I knelt
beside her, she uttered the feelings and
desires of her heart to God. I remem-
ber her saying, “ If I cease praying for
five minutes, I am ready to sink under
this unlocked-for distress; but, whenl
pray, God comforts and upholds me:
his will, not mine, be done.” Once she
said, “Help me to pray, my child:
Christ suffers little children to come to
him, and forbids them not: say some-
thing.” “ What shall I say, mamma?
Shall I fetch a book '2” “Not now,”
she replied; “speak from your heart,
and ask God that we may be reconciled
to his will and bear this trial with pa-
Hence?’
(Z2) SUPPORT FROM THE CROSS.
——Dr. Grosvenor’s first wife was a most
devout and amiable woman. The Sab-
oath after her death, t.he doctor ex-
urcssed himself from the pulpit in the
following manner: “ I have had an irre-

parable loss; and no man can feel a loss
of this consequence more sensibly than
myself; but the cross of a dying Jesus
is my support: I fly from one death for
refuge to another.” How much superior
was the comfort of the Christian divine
to that of the heathen philosopher, Pliny
the younger, who says, that, in similar
distresses, study was his only relief.
(0) A LOSS MADE GOOD.-—Mr.
Patrick Macwarth, who -lived in the
West of Scotland, whose heart the Lord,
in a remarkable way, opened, was, af-
ter his conversion, in such a frame, so
affected with the discoveries of the love
of God, and of the blessedness of the
life to come, that for some months to-
gether he seldom slept, being so ta-
ken up in wondering at the kindness
of his Redeemer. His life was dis-
tinguished for tenderness of walk, and
near communion with God. One day
after the death of his son, who was sud
denly taken away, he retired alone for
several hours, and afterwards appeared
so remarkably cheerful, that inquiry
was made why he looked so cheerful in
a time of such afliiction. He replied,
‘ He had got that in his retirement with
the Lord, which, to have it afterwards
renewed, he would gladly lose a son
every day.’
61. The Bereaved Converted.
(a) An impenitent man in Boston was
bereaved of a little son. He felt the
stroke severely, and his attention was
called up to the subject of religion. But
his grief at length subsided, and serious
impressions were off. Ere long God
took away another little boy from him.
His convictions were renewed with his
sorrows, and he sought and found com-
fort in Christ.
Speaking of his experience in a con-
ference and prayer-meeting, he sweetly
said, “ God in taking away my son, re-
vealed to me his own Son, a thousand
times more precious than my own.”
(12) THE YOUTI-I’S RECOVERY.
——A pious clergyman once related thl
120
THE BEREAVED CONVERTED.
-——-
5]
following fact :—When travelling on
horseback along a solitary track, in one
of the back settlements of America, he
overtook a stranger, an Englishman,
and delighted with meeting a fellow-
countryman in so unusual a spot, joined
him and entered into conversation.
My companion, says the narrator,
made frequent allusions to his early
history, and at last, in answer to my
inquiries, gave me the following ac-
count :-
“I was the only son of religious
parents, who anxiously watched over
my expanding mind, and directed me to
the God of my fathers. My feelings
were naturally strong, and often asI
listened to the fond and pious instruc-
tions of my mother, or heard a father’s
prayers ascend to heaven on my behalf,
I felt more, far more thanl could express.
“ My own inclinations and the wishes
of my parents, eventually induced me
to adopt the profession of a surgeon.
Never shall I forget the evening before
my departure for town to enter on my
preparatory studies; never can I lose
the remembrance of my father’s affec-
tionate words that evening, almost the
last I ever heard from his lips. ‘You
are about to leave me, my dear child,’
he said, with his eyes filled with tears.
‘ You are about to go into the midst of
temptations, but He who has watched
over you hitherto, can still preserve you.
Ihave committed you to his care, and
He is able to keep what I have commit-
ted unto him. Never neglect,’ added
he, as he presented me with a pocket
Bible, ‘ never neglect this blessed book.’
I went up to London, entered with avi-
dity upon the course of studies which
were to fit me for my profession, and for
a while daily, and even almost ‘hourly,
thought of my father’s advice, and re-
solved to follow it. But I was surround-
ed by infidel fellow-students, who ridi-
culed religion, despised its precepts, and
while they flattered me by compliment-
ing my intellectual powers, regretted
thatl should be a slave to such antiqua-
ted, puritanical notions. At first I en-
deavored by argument to defend my
views, and prove the authenticity of the
sacred writ ngs ; butl could not with-
stand their continued raillery, and was

at last silent when they touched on the
subject. This was my first backward
step. I was ashamed of my Lord, and
he justly gave me up to be filled with
my own ways.
“ I became exceedingly profiigate, and
often made even my thoughtless com-
panions shudder at the depth of my im-
piety. We had formed among our-
selves a select literary society, in which
I was giving a course of lectures on the
different departments of natural history,
with the expressed intention of proving
from them the awful doctrines of mate-
rialism; when, one evening, at one of
our weekly meetings, a hurried note
was handed to me, telling me, if I ever
wished to see my father again, I must
pnoceed home without delay. I depart-
ed immediately by the most rapid con-
veyance, but the next day and night
elapsed before I reached the end of my
journey. As I rushed in, the first
glance told me my mother was a widow,
and I was fatherless. It would be be
yond the power of language to express
my agony. In spite of the entreaties of
my mother, disregarding the absolute
commands of the physician, (for the dis
ease which had carried off my beloveo
parent was infectious,) I flew to his
apartment, and throwing myself on the
corpse, I, for the first time, found relief
in tears. But it was but for a moment.
The anxiety of the preceding hours of
suspense-—the dreadful certainty that
had awaited me-—-the horror and re-
morse that new filled my awakened con-
science, overwhelmed me. I was car-
ried in a swoon from the scene of sor-
row; the next morning found me con-
fined to a bed of sickness, in a state of
delirium, caused by a burning fever.
For three long weeks did my mother
watch over me, fearing each day would
find her doubly bereft, when the crisis
of the disorder passed, and I slowly re-
covered. I/Vho can describe the gnaw-
ing of an awakened conscience, the re-
morse for my disobedience to my lost
father, which, like the worm that never
dies, preyed on, and engrossed my
mind! In the silence of a sick chamber,
the whole course of my backslidings re.
turned to my recollection, and filled me
with despair; but
121
52
BEREAVEMEN TS.


‘ God passed in mercy by,
{His praise be ever new,) and bade me live.’
“ That Bible which I had so long de-
spised, and which now seemed only
filled with denunciations of wrath and
righteous vengeance, Was, under the in-
fiuences of the blessed Spirit, opened to
the eyes of my understanding, as reveal-
ing a Saviour for the chief of offenders.
I was enabled to flee for refuge to the
hope set before me in the gospel, and to
cry, ‘ God be merciful to me a sinner.’ ”
(c) THE ORPHAN SAILOR.-—
After an absence of several years an
American sailor, profane and wicked,
returned to his native land, and sought
~1is widowed mother’s residence. I-Ie
mocked, but no one bade him enter.
-Ie called, but no answer was returned
save the echo of his own voice. It
seemed like knocking at the door of a
-omb. The nearest neighbor hearing
.he noise, came and found the youth
sitting and sobbing on the steps of the
door. “ VI/here,” cried he with eager-
ness, “where is my mother and my
brother ‘.3 Oh, I hope they are not”——
“ It,” said the stranger, “you in-
quire for VVidow ,I can only pity
you. I have known her but a short
time; but she was the best woman I
ever knew. Her little boy died of a
fever a year ago, and in consequence of
fatigue in taking care of him, and anxiety
for a long absent son at sea, the good
widow herself was buried yesterday.”
“ O, heavens!” cried the youth,
“have I staid just long enough to kill
my mother! Wretch that I am—show
me the‘ grave——I have a dagger in my
bundle—let me die with my mother--
my poor, broken-hearted parent!”
“Hold, friend!” said the astonished
neighbor, “if you are this woman’s
eldest son, I have a letter for you,
which she wrote a few days before she
died, and desired that you might re-
ceive it should you ever return.”
They both turned from the cottage,
and went to the house of the neighbor.
A light being procured, the young man
threw down his bundle and hat, and
read the following short letter, while his
manly cheeks were covered with tears.
“ MY DEAREST, ONLY SON.--When
'his reaches you,I shall be no more.


Your little brother has gone before me,
and I cannot but hope and believe that
he was prepared. Ihad fondly hoped
that I should once more have seen you
on the shores of mortality; but this
hope is now relinquished. Ihave fol-
lowed you by my prayers through all
your wanderings. Often, while you
little suspected it, even in the dark cold
nights in winter, have Ikneilt for my
lost son. There is but one thing that
gives me pain at dying; and that is,
my dear I/Villiam, that I must leave
you in this wicked world, as I fear,
unreconciled to your Maker. I am
too feeble to say more. My glass is
run. As you visit the sods which cov-
er my dust, Oh, remember that you too
must soon follow. Farewell! The
last breath of your mother will be spent
in praying for you, that we may meet
above/’
The young man’s heart was melted,
on reading these few words from the
parent whom he so tenderly loved; and
this letter was the means, in the hands
of God, of bringing this youth to a sav-
ing knowledge of the truth “ as it is in
Jesus,” and he became a very respect
able and pious man.
5%. The Bereaved Bebukcd.
(a) LADY RAFFLES AND THE
NURSE.-——One day when Lady Raf-
fies, while in India, was almost over
whelmed with grief for the loss of
favorite child, unable to bear the sight
of her other children, or the light of
day, and humbled on her couch with a
feeling of misery, she was addressed by
a poor, ignorant, native woman, of the
lowest class, who had been employee
about the nursery, in terms not to be
forgotten :-—-“I am come, because you
have been here many days shut up in
a dark room, and no one dares to come
near you. Are you not ashamed to
grieve in this manner, when you ought
to be thanking God for having given
you the most beautiful child that ever
was seen’.2 Were you not the envy
of every body? Did any one ever see
him or speak of him without admiring
him? And instead of letting this child
continue in this world till he should be
122
r11STt)RICAL FACTS.
worn out with trouble and sorrow, has
not God taken him to heaven in all his
beauty 2 For shame l-—leave off weep-
ing, and let me open a window.”
(1)) THE WIDOW REPROVED.—-
Ebenezer Adams, an eminent member
of the Society of Friends, on visiting a
lady of rank, whom he found, six
months after the death of her husband,
on a sofa covered with black cloth, and

53
in all the dignity of woe, approached
her with great solemnity, and gently
taking her by the hand, thus addressed
her :—“ So, friend, I see then thou hast
not yet forgiven God Almighty ” This
reproof had so great an effect on the
lady that she immediately laid aside the
symbols of grief, and again entered on
the important duties of life.
BIBLE.
63. Historiclal Facts.
(a) THE VENERABLE BEDE.-_
In the eighth century, a translation of
the Gospel of St. John was completed in
the Anglo-Saxon language, by the vene-
rable Bede, who was the ornament of
the age and country in which he lived.
Referring to the time of his education,
he says, “From that period I have ap-
plied myself wholly to the study of the
Holy Scriptures; and in the intervals
of the observance of regular discipline,
always found it sweet to be either learn-
ing, teaching, or writing.”
The circumstances of his death, as de-
scribed by one of his pupils, are interest-
ing :——“ Many nights he passed without
sleep, yet rejoicing and giving thanks,
unless when a little slumber intervened.
When he awoke, he resumed his ac-K
customed devotions, and, with expanded
hands, never ceased returning thanks to
God. By turns,” observes his pupil,
“ we read, and by turns we wept ; in-
deed, we always read in tears. In such
solemn joy, we passed fifty days; but,
during these days, besides the daily lec-
tures which he gave, he endeavored to
compose two works ; one of which was
a translation of St. John’s Gospel into
English. It had been observed of him,
that he never knew what it was to do
nothing ; and, after his breathing be-
f:ame still shorter, he dictated cheerfully,
and sometimes said, ‘ Make haste ; I
know not how long lshall hold out ; mv
Maker may take me away very soon.
On one occasion, a pupil said to him,
‘ Most dear master, there is yet one
chapter wanting ; do ypu think it trouble-

some to be asked any more questions '2’
He answered, ‘It is no trouble; take
your pen, and write fast.’ He conti-
nued to converse cheerfully, and whilst
his friends wept, as he told them they
would see him no more, they rejoiced to
hear him say, ‘It is now time for me to
return to Him who made me. The
time of my dissolution draws near. I
desire to be dissolved, and to be with
Christ. Yes, my soul desires to see
Christ, my King, in his beauty.’ The
pupil, before mentioned, said to him,
‘ Dear master, one sentence is still want-
ing.’ He replied, ‘Write quickly.’
The young man soon added, ‘It is
finished l’ He answered, ‘ Thou hast
well said; all is now finished! Hold
my head with thy hands: I shall de-
light to sit at the opposite side of the
room, on the holy spot at which I have
been accustomed to pray, and where,
whilst sitting, I can invoke my Father.’
Being placed on the floor of his little
room, he sang, ‘ Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost,’
and expired as he uttered the last
words.”
A copy of some of St. Paul’s Epistles,
said to be in the handwriting of this
venerable man, is preserved in the
library of Trinity College, Cambridge.
(b) THE BIBLE PROHIBITED.
-—In the reign of Henry V., a law was
passed against the perusal of the Bible
in English. It was 'enacted, “That
whosoever they were that should read
the Scriptures in the mother tongue,
they should forfeit lande, catel, lif, and
godes, from they re neyers for ever ; and
so be condemned for heretykiss to God,
123
53
BIBLE.
enemies to the crowne, and most arrant
traitors to the lande.”
( c) HIGH PRICES OF BIBLES.
---Cf W. de Howton, abbot of Croxton,
it is stated, that he bequeathed to the
abbey at his death, in 1274, “ a Bible,
in nine tomes, faire written, and excel-
lently well glossed by Solomon, arch-
deacon of Leicester, and paid for it fifty
markes sterling,” or 33!. 6s. 8d. And
in a valuation of books, bequeathed to
Merton College, at Oxford, before the
year 1300, a Psalter with glosses, or
marginal annotations, is valued at ten
shillings; and St. Austin, on Genesis,
and a Concordantia, or Harmony, are
each valued at the same price. Let it
be remembered, that these sums should
be multiplied by fifteen, to bring them
to the present value of money ; and, in
some instances, the comparative value
would be still too low, as in the instance
of the laboring men, whose pay, in 1272,
was only three halfpence per day, and
who must therefore have devoted the
earnings of fourteen or fifteen years to
the purchase of a Bible. Whitaker, in
his “ History of Craven,” affords the ad-
ditional information, “that towards the
close of the thirteenth, and at the com-
mencement of the fourteenth century,
the average wages of a man-servant,
with meat and clothing, were only from
three to five shillings per annum ; that
reapers were paid twopence a day ; and
a sheep sold for a shilling; and thirty
quarters of fossil-coal, for seventeen
shillings andsix pence.” Madox, in his
“ History of the Exchequer,” says, that
in 1240, “the building of two arches of
London Bridge, cost only twenty-five
pounds ;” eight pounds less than the
Bible bequeathed to the abbey of Crox-
ton, by abbot W. de Howton.
(cl) LOAN OF A BIBLE.—-In 1299,
the bishop of ‘Winchester borrowed a
Bible, in two volumes folio, from a con-
vent in that city, giving a bond, drawn
up in a most formal and solemn manner,
for its due return. This Bible had been
given to the convent by a former bishop,
and in consideration of this gift, and one
nundred marks, the monk founded a
daily mass for the soul of the donor.
(6) THE DEVIL AND DR. FAUS-
TUS.-~ Fust (or Faustus) having print-

ed off a considerable number of copies
of the Bible, to imitate those which were
comn only sold in manuscript, under-
took the sale of them at Paris, where the
art of printing was then unknown. As
he SOld his printed copies for sixty
crowns, while the scribes demanded
five hundred, this created universal as-
tonishment; but when he produced 00-
pies as fast as they were wanted, and
also lowered his price to thirty crowns,
all Paris was agitated. The uniformity
of the copies increased the wonder. In-
formations were given to the magistrates
against him as a magician; his lodg-
ings were searched ; and a great num-
ber of copies being found, they were
seized. The red ink, with which they
were embellished, was said to be his
blood. It was seriously adjudged, that
he was in league with the devil; but,
on discovering his art, the parliament of
Paris passed an act to discharge him
from all persecution, in consideration
of his useful invention.
(f) IGNORANCE OF PRIESTS.
—-It is very affecting to contemplate the
ignorance which existed in Europe be-
fore printing was introduced. Stepha-
nus relates an anecdote of a certain
doctor of the Sorbonne, who, speaking
of the reformers, expressed his surprise
at their mode of reasoning, by exclaim-
ing, “I wonder why these youths are
constantly quoting the New Testament!
Iwas more than fifty years old before
I knew any thing ofa New Testament.”
And Albert, archbishop and elector of
Mentz, in the year 1530, accidentally
meeting with a Bible, opened it, and
having read some pages, observed, “In-
deed I do not know what this book is,
but thisgl see, that every thing in it is
against us.” Even Carolastadius, who
was afterwards one of the reformers, ac-
knowledged that he never began to read
the Bible till eight years after he hai
taken his highest degree in divinity.
Many other equally striking facts might
be introduced, illustrative of the igno
rance of the Scriptures which prevailec‘
at that time.
(g) LUTHER’S DISCOVERY.-—In
the year 1507, in the twenty-fourth
year of his age, Luther entered into
orders, and celebrater’ his first mass.
124
HISTORICAL FACTS.

In the same year he found, in the li-
brary of his monastery, a Latin copy
of the bible, which he eagerly read,
and soon became aware that many parts
of it had been kept from the people.
This was the commencement of his use-
fulness. What a contrast do those days
present to ours! If any are now with-
out a Bible, it must be their own fault;
but then it was impossible to obtain one,
or to ascertain the nature and tendency
of is. blessed truths.
(h) PRIESTLY TERROR.—The
ignorance Which prevailed in reference
to the Scriptures when Luther was
raised up of God to reform the church,
in the beginning of the sixteenth cen-
tury, was indeed surprising. Conrad,
of Heresbach, a grave author of that
age, relates a fact of a monk saying to
his companions, “ They have invented a
new language, which they call Greek:
you must be carefully on your guard
against it; it is the matter of all heresy.
I observe in the hands of many persons
a book written in that language, and
which they call the New Testament:
it is a book full of daggers and poison.
As to the Hebrew, my brethren, it is
certain, that whoever learns it becomes
immediately a Jew.”
(i) INCREASE OF BIBLES.-—
Tindal, to whom we are indebted for
the first translation of the New Testa-
ment into English, printed it abroad;
and on its making its appearance in
England, the Popish bishops and clergy
obtained, in the year 1527, a royal
proclamation, prohibiting the purchase
or reading of it. This proclamation
only excited the public curiosity, and
led to an increased inquiry after the
forbidden book. One step which was
taken to prevent the circulation of this
edition of the Scriptures, at once shows
the hand of God in extending his truth,
and furnishes an amusing proof of the
folly of man in opposing the truth of
God. The Bishop of London employed
a person to purchase the whole impres-
sion of Tindal’s version of the New
Testament, that he might burn them at
St. Paul’s Cross. By this means the
Reformer was enabled to publish a
large and more correct edition, “ so
that they came over,” says Fox, “thick

53
and threefold into England, to the great
mortification of the Bishop and his Po-
pish friends.”
Of this purchase the following fact is
related :—Sir Thomas More, being lord
chancellor, and having several persons
accused of heresy and ready for execu-
tion, offered to compound with one of
them, named George Constantine, for
his life,’ upon the easy terms of discov-
ering to him who they were in London
that maintained Tindal beyond the sea.
After the poor man had obtained as
good a security for his life as the honor
and truth of the chancellor could give,
he told him it was the Bishop of London
who maintained him by purchasing the
first impressions of his Testaments.
The chancellor smiled, and said he be-
lieved that he spoke the truth.
(7') CRANMER’S BIBLE.—-VVhen
Archbishop Cranmer’s edition of the
Bible was printed, in 1-538, and fixed
to a desk in all parochial churches, the
ardor with which men flocked to read
it was incredible. They who could,
procured it; and they who could not,
crowded to read it, or to hear it read in
churches, where it was common to see
little assemblies of mechanics meeting
together for that purpose after the labor
of the day. Many even learned to read
in their old age, that they might have
the pleasure of instructing themselves
from the Scriptures. Mr. Fox mentions
two apprentices who joined each his
little stock, and bought a Bible, which
at every interval of leisure they read ;
but being afraid of their master, who
was a zealous papist, they kept it under
the straw of their bed.
(k) PARLIAMENTARY ENACT-
MENTS.—At the request of the R0-
mish clergy, severe proclamations were
issued by King Henry VIII. against all
who read, or kept by them, Tmdal’s
translation of the New Testament; so
that a copy of this book found in the
possession of any person was sufiicient
to convict him of heresy, and subject
him to the flames. “But the fervent
zeal of those Christian days,” says the
good old martyrologist, Fox, “seemed
much superior to these our days and
times, as manifestly may appear by
their sitting up all night in reading or
125
53
BIBLE.

hearing; also by their expenses and
charges in buying of books in English,
of whom some gave a load of bay for a
few chapters of St. James, or ofSt. Paul,
in English.
In 1543, an act of parliament was
obtained by the adversaries of transla-
tions, condemning Tindal’s Bible, and
the prefaces and notes of all other edi-
tions. It was therefore enacted, “ That
no woman, except noblewomen and
gentlewomen, who might read to them-
selves alone, and not to others,” (and
for which indulgence they were indebt-
ed to Cranmer,) “ nor artificers, ’pren-
tices, journeymen, serving-men, hus-
bandmen, nor laborers, were to read the
Bible or New Testament in English, to
themselves or to any others, privately
or openly, upon pain of one month’s
imprisonment. ’ ’
A similar act was also passed in
1546, prohibiting Coverdale’s as well
as Tindal’s Bible.
(Z) KING EDWARD AND THE
SWORDS.--In the dawning of the
glorious day of the Reformation, the
Lord raised up the eminently religious
King Edward the Sixth, to engage in
that excellent work. He had a very
high esteem for the Holy Scriptures,
according to which this great work was
to be squared, and which had been, by
the enemies and murderers of souls,
long concealed from their forefathers.
When, therefore, at his coronation, the
swords were delivered to him, as King
of England, France, and Ireland ; hav-
ing received them, he said, “There is
yet another sword to be delivered to
me;” at which the lords wondering,
“ I mean,” said he, “the sacred Bible,
, which is the sword of the Spirit, and
without which we are nothing, neither
can we do any thing.” And as he
prized the word of God himself, so he
soon restored it -to his people ; and that
they might all have opportunity to
peruse the inspired writings, he ordered
a large Bible in English, with the par-
aphrase of Erasmus on the Gospels, to
be set up in every church, in which,
at all times, those that could, might go
and read ; and those that could not read.
might go and hear.
Q“
(m) VVILLIAMS AND THE
WELSH BIBLE.——Long before the
establishment of Bible Societies the
Rev. Peter VVilhams, a pious distin-
guished clergyman of I/Vales, seeing
that his countrymen were almost en-
tirely destitute of the Bible, and know-
ing that the work of the Lord could not
prosper without it, undertook with holy
confidence, though destitute of the means,
to translate and publish a VVelsh Bible
for his countrymen. Having expended
all his living, and being deeply involved
in debt, with the work unfinished, he
expected every hour to be arrested and
imprisoned, without the means or hope
of release. One morning he had taken
an affectionate leave of his family for
the purpose of pursuing his pious la-
bors, with an expectation that he should
not be permitted to return. When just
as he was mounting his horse a stranger
rode up and presented him a letter.
He stopped and opened it, and found to
his astonishment that it contained infor-
mation that a lady had bequeathed him
a legacy of £300 sterling. “Now,”
says be, “my dear wife,l can finish
my Bible, pay my debts, and live in
peace at home.”
(n) TI-IE CZAR AND THE
PSALM.—-When Alexander, emperor
of Russia, came to the throne, few
Bibles were found in his empire, and
great carelessness in reference to reli-
gion almost universally prevailed. A
high place in the church soon became
vacant, and the emperor appointed his
“favorite prince Galitzin to fill it. He
at first declined the appointment, on the
plea of his entire ignorance of religion,
but the emperor overruled the objection
as of no weight. The prince, on his
first interview with the venerable arch-
bishop Platoff, requested him to pom
'out some book which would give him
a concise view of the Christian religion.
The archbishop, rather surprised at the
prince’s professed ignorance of religion,
recommended the Bible. The prince
said he could not think of reading that
book. “Well,” replied the archbishop,
“ that is the only book there is, or ever
will be, that can give you a correct
view of the Christian religion.” “ Then
Imust remain ignorant of it: reading
123
INSPIRATION
OF THE BIBLE.
51
,------_--_¢‘-_-..--—n __ _
the Bible is out of the question.” was
his reply. The words, however, of the
venerable Platofi‘ remained upon his
mind, and he shortly afterwards pri-
vately bought and read the Bible. The
effects were soon visible. He was
not known to be “ a Bible reader,” but
his manners were treated with con-
tempt. Nearly every one was now
agitated by the threatened invasion by
the French. Galit/.in was not so. His
companions were astonished. VVas he
become a traitor to his prince ’! It was
impossible ; his loyalty was und mbted.
At this important crisis, he thought it
his duty to acquaint the emperor with
the rock on which he rested unmoved
at the threatened danger. He request-
ed an interview; it was granted. The
invasion was naturally the first subject
of conversation; and next, as closely
connected with it, the prince’s conduct.
The emperor demanded upon what
principle he remained calm and un-
moved, in the midst of universal alarm.
The prince drew from his pocket a
small Bible, and held it toward the
emperor; as he put out his hand to
receive it, it fell, and opened at the
ninety-first Psalm: “He that dwelleth
in the secret place of the Most High,
shall abide under the shadow of the
Almighty.”
would seek this retreat,” said the prince,
as he read the words of the Psalm.
They separated. A day was appointed
for public prayer. The minister who
preached, took for his subject the ninety-
first Psalm. The emperor, surprised,
inquired of the prince if he had men-
tioned the circumstance that occurred
at the interview. He assured him that
he had not named it. A short time
after, the emperor having a few min-
utes to spare, and perhaps feeling the
necessity of Christian support, sent for
his chaplain to read the Bible to him
in his tent. He came, and began the
ninety-first Psalm. “Hold,” said the
emperor, “ who told you to read that ?”
“ God,” replied the chaplain. “ How '2”
exclaimed Alexander. “Surprised at
your sending for me,” continued the
chaplain, “ I fell upon my knees before
God, and besought him to teach my
weak lips What to speak. I felt that
“Oh that your Majesty

part of the holy word which I have be
gun to read clearly pointed out to me.
Why your majesty interrupted me I
know not.” The result was a great
alteration in the emperor’s conduct, and
the manifestation of great zeal in the
circulation of the Scriptures.
t4. Inspiratien of the Bibie.
(CL) VVHERE DID HE GET THAT
LAW ?—In a city in one of the north-
ern states lived a lawyer of eminence
and talents. He was notoriously pro-
fane. He had a negro boy, at whom
his neighbors used to hear_ him swear
with awful violence. One day this
gentleman met an elder of the Presby-
terian church, who was also a lawyer,
and said to him, “I wish, sir, to ex-
amine into the truth of the Christian
religion. I/Vhat books would you ad-
vise me to read on the evidences of
Christianity '2”
The elder, surprised at the inquiry,
replied : “ That is a question, sir, which
you ought to have settled long ago.
You ought not to have put off a subject
so important to this late period of life.”
“It is too late,” said the inquirer.
“I never knew much about it, butI
always supposed that Christianity was
rejected by the great majority of learn-
ed men. I intend, however, now to
examine the subject thoroughly myself.
I have upon me, as my physician says,
a mortal disease, under which I may
live a year and a half or two years, but
not probably longer. I/Vhat books, sir,
would you advise me to read ?”
“ The Bible,” said the elder.
“I believe you don’t understand me,”
resumed the unbeliever, surprised in
his turn: “I wish to investigate the
truth of the Bible.”
“I would advise you, sir,” repeated
the elder, “to read the Bible. And
(he continued) I will give you my rea-
sons. Most infidels are very ignorant
of the Scriptures. Now to reason on
any subject ‘with correctness, we must
understand what it is about which we
reason. In the next place, I consider
the internal evidence of the truth of the
Scriptures stronger than the external.’2
“And where shall I begin .3” in.
127
54
BIBLE.
—-
quired the unbeliever. “At the New
Testament '2 ”
“No,” replied the elder; “at the
beginning-—at Genesis.”
The infidel bought a commentary,
went home, and sat down to the serious
study of the Scriptures. He applied
all his strong and well-disciplined
powers of mind to the Bible, to try
rigidly but impartially its truth.
As he went on in his perusal, he
received occasional calls from the elder.
The infidel freely remarked upon what
he had read, and stated his objections.
He liked this passage——he thought that
touching and beautiful—-—but he could
not credit a third.
One evening the elder called, and
found the unbeliever at his house, or
office, walking the room with a dejected
look, his mind apparently absorbed in
thought. He continued, not noticing
that any one had come in, busily to
trace and retrace his steps. The elder
at length spoke :
“You seem, sir,” said he, “to be in
a brown study. Of what are you
thinking '2”
“I have been reading,” replied the
infidel, “the moral law.’ ’\
“Well, what do you think of it '2”
asked the elder.
“ I will tell you what I used to think,”
answered the infidel. “ I supposed that
Moses was the leader of a horde of
banditti ; that having a strong mind, he
acquired great influence over a super-
stitious people: and that on Mount
Sinai he played off some sort of fire-
works, to the amazement of his igno-
rant followers, who imagined, in their
mingled fear and superstition, that the
exhibition was supernatural.”
“But what do you think now ?” in.
terposed the elder.
“I have been looking,” said the in fi-
del, “into the nature of that law. I
have been trying to see whether I can
add any thing to it, or take any thing
from it, so as to make it better. Sir,
I cannot. It is perfect.
“The first commandment,” contin-
ued he, “ directs us to make the Crea-
tor the object of our supreme love and
reverence. That is right. If he be
our Creator, Preserver, and Supreme

Benefactor, we ought to treat him, and
none other, as such. The second for-
bids idolatry. That certainly is right.
The third forbids profanity. The
fourth fixes a time for religious worship,
If there be a God, he ought surely to
be worshipped. It is suitable that there
should be an outward homage, signifi-
cant of our inward regard. If God be
worshipped, it is proper that some ’ time
should be set apart for that purpose,
when all may worship him harmoni-
ously and without interruption. One
day in seven is certainly not too much,
and I do not know that it is too little.
The fifth defines the peculiar duties
arising from family relations. Injuries
to our neighbor are then cZassQ‘ied by
the moral law. They are divided into
offences against life, chastity, property,
and character. And,” said he, apply-
ing a legal idea with legal acuteness,
“I notice that the greatest offence in
each class is expressly forbidden.
Thus the greatest injury to life is mur-
der; to chastity, adultery ; to property,
theft ; to character, perjury. N ow the
greater offence must include the less
of the same kind. Murder must in-
clude every injury to life; adultery,
every injury to purity, and so of the
rest. And the moral code is closed
and perfected by a command forbidding
every improper desire in regard to our
neighbors.
“I have been thinking,” he proceed-
ed, “ where did Moses get that law.2
I have read the history ; the Egyptians
and the adjacent nations were idolaters,
so were the Greeks and Romans ; and
the wisest and best Greeks or Romans
never gave a code of morals like this.
Where did Moses get this law, whicn
surpasses the wisdom and philosophy
of the most enlightened ages? He
lived at a period comparatitely barba-
rous, but he has given a law i11 which
the learning and sagacity of all subse-
quent time can detect no flaw. Where
did he get it? He could not have soar-
ed so far above his age as to have de-
vised it himself. I am satisfied where
he obtained it. It came down from
heaven. lam convinced of the truth
of the religion of the Bible.”
The infidel-——infidel no longer---1 e
128
INSPIRATION
DF THE BIBLE. 54

IW -
~- _- _
mained ta his death a firm believer in
he truth )f Christianity.
(b) VIEWS OF THE SOUTH SEA
SLANDERS.——The Rev. John Wil-
nms, the “ Martyr of Erromanga,” re-
ates, that at one of the annual mission-
my meetings in the South Sea Islands,
-ieveral native speakers addressed the
meeting with peculiar effect; but some
of the officers and crew of a British
man-of-war, who were present, were dis-
posed to regard the natives as mere par-
rots, saying just what the missionaries
had taught them. To satisfy them, Mr.
Williams collected some fifteen of the
natives together in the afternoon, to have
the officers and crew examine them.
“ I did not,” says Mr. I/V. “give them to
understand the purpose for which they
were assembled; I only said, ‘These
gentlemen have some questions to ask
you.’ The questions were then asked:
‘ Do you believe the Bible to be the
word of God ?’ They were startled:
they had never entertained a single
doubt on the subject; but, after a mo-
ment’s pause, one answered, ‘Most
certainly we do.’ It was asked, ‘ 'Why
do you believe it? Can you give any
reason for believing the Bible to be the
word of God ?’ He replied, ‘Why,
.ook at the power with which it has been
attended, in the utter overthrow of all
that we have been addicted to from time
immemorial. What else could have
demolished that system of idolatry which
had so long prevailed amongst us '2 N 0
human arguments could have induced
us to abandon that false system.’ The
same question being put to another, he
replied, ‘I believe the Bible to be the
word of God, on account of the pure
system of religion which it contains.
We had a system of religion before;
but look how dark and black a system
that was, compared with the bright sys-
tem of salvation revealed in the word of
God I Here we learn that we are sin-
ners; and that God gave Jesus Christ
to die for us ; and by that goodness sal-
vation is given to us. Now, what but
the wisdom of God could have produced
such a system as this presented to us in
the word of God? And this doctrine
leads to purity.’ There was a third
reply to this question, and it was a

-
rather singular one ; but it was a native
idea: ‘ Whenl look at myself, I find
I have got hinges all over my body. I
have hinges to my legs, hinges to my
jaws, hinges to my feet. If I want to
take hold of any thing, there are hinges
to my hands to do it with. If my heart
thinks, and I want to speak, I have got
hinges to my jaws. IfI want to walk,
I have hinges to my feet. Now here,’
continued he, ‘is wisdom, in adapting
my body to the various functions it has
to discharge. And I find that the
wisdom which made the Bible, exactly
fits with this wisdom which has made
my body; consequently, I believe the
Bible to be the word of God.’ Another
replied, ‘I believe it to be the word .If
God, on account of the prophecies which
it contains, and the fulfilment of them.’ ”
(0) FIRST CHAPTER OF RO-
MANS.—-Perhaps no part of the Bible
occasions more surprise among the
heathen, than the first chapter of Re-
mans. Its graphic picture of the follies
and the guilt into which men plunge,
when God gives them up to a reprobate
mind, are instantly recognized as having
a counterpart in their own lives. To
their minds the great problem is, how
came language, so accurate and faith-
ful, to be employed by the sacred writer’?
Some escape from the difficulty by af-
firming that the Scriptures have been
altered to meet the case. A brahmin
once told a missionary that the expres-
sion, “ Professing themselves to be wise,
they became fools,” must have been in-
serted after the arrival of the missiona-
ries in India.
(d) YVORDS OF DR. YOUNG.—-
Dr. Cotton was intimate with Dr.
Young, and paid him a visit about a
fortnight before he was seized with his
last illness. Dr. Young was then in his
usual health ; his venerable appearance,
the gravity of his utterance, and the
earnestness with which he discoursed
about religion, gave him, in Dr. Cotton’s
view, the appearance of a prophet.
They had been delivering their senti-
ments on N ewton’s "' Dissertation on the
Prophecies,” when Dr. Young closed
the conference thus :——“ My friend, there
are two considerations upon which my
faith in Christ is built as upon a rock
129
54
BIBLE.
The fall of man, the redemption of man,
and 'he resurrection of man : these three
cardinal articles of our religion are such
as human ingenuity could never have in-
vented ; therefore they must be Divine.
The other argument is this :—If the
prophecies have been fulfilled, of which
there is no doubt, then the Bible must
be the word of God 5 and if the Scrip-
tures are the word of God, Christianity
must be true.”
(e) AN ARTLESS ARGUMENT.
——-Naimbanna, a black prince, arrived
in England, from the neighborhood of
Sierra Leone, in 1791. The gentleman
to whose care he was intrusted, took
great pains to convince him that the
Bible was the word of God, and he re-
ceived it as such, with great reverence
and simplicity. Do we ask what it was
that satisfied him on this subject, let us
listen to his artless words. “When I
found,” says he, “ all good men mind-
ing the Bible, and calling it the word of
God, and all bad men disregarding it, I
then was sure that the Bible must be
what good men called it, the word of
God.’ ’
(f) REASONING OF THE
CHIEF S.—Two Mongul Tartar chiefs
went from the borders of China to St.
Petersburgh, to examine the arts and
manners of the Europeans. They were
represented as the most ingenious and
noble of their tribes. During their stay,
among other things, a German clergy-
man engaged them to assist him in pre-
paring a translation of the Gospels into
the language of their country, and they
spent some time every day in study.
At length the task was done, the last
correction was made, and the book was
closed on the table before them. Still
they sat, serious and silent. The mi-
nister inquired the cause; and was
equally surprised and delighted, to hear
them both avow themselves converts to
the truths of the blessed volume.
“At home,” they said, “ we studied
the sacred writings of the Chinese, and
the more we read, the more obscure
they seemed ; the longer we have read
the gospel, the more simple and intelli-
gible it becomes, until at last it seems
as if Jesus was talking with us.”
This is a very pleasing tribute to the

excellence of the Scriptures, and it is
just what might be expected from their
natural, unpretending style. It is the
simple, unvarnished style of truth.
(g) THOMAS PAINE SILENC-
ED.——A gentleman of N ew-York, who
personally knew Thomas Paine, and
was repeatedly in his company during
the last years of his life, gave the fol-
lowing account of a conversation with
him respecting the Bible 1--
One evening I found Paine harangu-
ing a company of his disciples, on the
great mischief done to mankind by the
introduction of the Bible and Christianity.
When he paused, I said, “Mr. Paine,
you have been in Scotland ; you know
there is not a more rigid set of people in
the world than they are in their attach-
ment to the Bible: it is their school-
book ; their churches are full of Bibles.
When a young man leaves his father’s
house, his mother always, in packing
his chest, puts a Bible on the top of his
clothes.” He said it was true. I con-
tinued, “ You have been in Spain,
where the people are destitute of the
Bible, and there you can hire a man for
a dollar to murder his neighbor, who
never gave him any offence.” He as-
sented. “ You have seen the manufac-
turing districts in England, where not
one man in fifty can read, and you have
been in Ireland, where the majority
never saw a Bible. Now, you know
it is an historical fact, that in one county
in England or Ireland there are many
more capital convictions in six months,
than there are in the whole population
of Scotland in twelve. Besides, this day
there is not one Scotchman in the alms-
house, state prison, briclewell, or peni-
tentiary of New-York. Now then, if
the Bible were so bad a book as you re.
present it to be, those who use it would
be the worst members of society: but
the contrary is the fact ; for our prisons,
almshouses, and penitentiaries are filled
with men and women, whose ignorance
or unbelief prevents them from reading
the Bible.” It was now near ten o’clock
at night. Paine answered not a word,
but, taking a candle from the table,
walked up stairs, leaving his friends and
myself staring at one another.
130
INSPIRATION OF THE BIBLE.
54
(h) YOUNG BUCHANAN AND
" ‘IE HlGHLANDER.——The late
I’/‘v. Claudius Buchanan, shortly after
he had visited the principal parts of Eu-
rope, was met in the streets of London
by an old Highlander, who was an in-
timate acquaintance of his father. In
order to have a little conversation, they
went into a public house, and took some
refreshmentsl
Young Claudius gave his countryman
a very animated description of his tour,
and of the wonders he had seen 'upon
the Continent. The old man listened
with attention to his narrative, and then
eagerly inquired Whether his religious
prmciples had not been materially injur-
ed by mixing among such a variety of
characters and religions. “ Do you
know what an infidel is ’!” said Bucha-
nan. “ Yes,” was the reply. “ Then,”
said he, “I am an infidel ; and have
seen the absurdity of all those nostrums
my good old father used to teach me in
the North ; and canyon,” added he, “ se-
riously believe that the Bible is a reve-
lation from the Supreme Being ’!—--“I
do.’’--—‘‘ And pray tell me what may be
your reasons ?” “ Claude,” said the good
old Highlander, “ I know nothing about
what learned men call the external evi-
dences of revelation, but I will tell you
why I believe it to be from God. I
have a most depraved and sinful nature,
and, do what I will, I find I cannot
make myself holy. My friends cannot
do it for me, nor doI think all the angels
in heaven could. One thing alone does
it,——the reading and believing what I
read in that blessed book,--that does it.
Now, as I know that God must be holy,
and a lover of holiness, and as I believe
that book is the only thing in creation
that produces and promotes holiness, I
conclude that it is from God, and that
he is the Author of it.”
(2') THE OLD NEGRO’S ARGU-
MENT.-—When the celebrated Ten-
nent was travelling in Virginia, he
lodged one night at the house of a plant-
er, who informed him that one of his
slaves, a man upwards of.seventy, who
could neither read nor write, was yet
eminently distinguished for his piety,
and for his knowledge of the Scriptures.
Having some curiosity to learn what

evidence such a man could have of their
divine origin, he went out in the morn-
ing, alone, and without making himself
known as a clergyman, entered into
conversation with him on the subject.
After starting some of the common ob-
jections of infidels against the authen-
ticity of the Scriptures, in a way cal.
culated to confound an ignorant man,
he said to him, when you cannot even
read the Bible, nor examine the evi-
dence for, or against its truth, how can
you know that it is the word sf God’.Z
After reflecting a moment, the negro
replied, “ You ass me, sir, how I know
that the Bible is the word of God :-I
know it, by its effect upon my own heart.”
(j) MAMGENA’S REASONING.
'—-A poor female Matchappee, named
Mamgena, called, says Mr. Campbell,
and told me, that when she first heard
of the Bible she did not think it was
true ; but when she found it to describe
her heart so exactly, she could not but
believe what it said. She was de-
termined, she added, always to live
near some place where the word of God
was preached; where she might hear’
about a crucified Saviour, though she
should starve.
CONVERSION OF ANUN DO.
—Anundo was admitted a pupil in the
General Assembly’s school, on its open-
ing in August, 1830. In accordance
with the system of tuition pursued in the
school, he, together with his class-feL
lows, soon commenced the study of the
New Testament. It was not long be-
fore his mind became arrested by the
Sermon on the Mount. The ideas, the
prospects, the images, the illustrations,
all were so peculiar, seemed so apposite
and so true, that glimpses of light flashed
through his soul, and he was often heard
to exclaim, ‘ How beautiful, how tender,
how kind, how full of love and goodness!
Oh, how unlike the spirit and maxims
of Hindooism I Surely this is the truth !’
Never was there a more striking exem-
plification of what Owen calls ‘the self-
evidencing power of the Bible.’ As the
young man advanced in his acquaint-
ance with its contents, he constantly
contrasted its statements with those
which the Brahmins rehearsed from
their Shasters; and he appeared as it
54, 55
BIBLE.
were internally to see and feel that
.here was truth in the former, and er-
ror in the latter. He demanded no ex-
ternal evidence to authenticate the di-
vine authority of the Christian Scrip-
tures. To him the reading of them
seemed like the presence of the light of
day exposing surrounding objects in
their true colors: or rather like the
sudden admission of the solar rays in-
to a dreary cavern, bringing to view
the hideous and loathsome objects with
which it had been stored. Not that he
disparaged miracles and prophecies;
but he declared that these Were not ne-
cessary for his conviction; there was
something in the whole spirit, and plan,
and announcements of the Gospel, that
came home to his soul in the light of
truth, independent of external proofs.
Anundo voluntarily applied to Mr. Duff
for baptism. His address on the occa-
sion was, in substance, ‘VVhat shall I
do? I feel that I am a sinner, a great
sinner, a sinner that deserves to be eter-
nally punished. What shall become of
me’? If I die this night, I fear I shall
be lost forever, and I know I deserve
such a fate. What shall I do’.2 I am
troubled, much troubled, day and night
I am troubled. But in the Bible I read
of God’s mercy. May I not trust in
it? I sometimes feel that Imay, and
so try to think and do what is good,
when all at once I feel that I am sin-
ning more. Then I read the Bible; I
cannot help reading it; and there I find
something that catches me in a way which
I cannot explain. I feel that Christ is
the only true Saviour. Last night I
could not sleep, and so arose and lighted
my lamp, and read the Bible, and it
caught me; and I am convinced that
here is the only way of salvation. May
I not then publicly profess my faith in
Christ by baptism '2”
(Z) CONDE’S ARGUMENT.-—
Pains had been early taken by some of
the Prince of Condé’s supposed friends
to shake his belief of Christianity; he
always replied, ‘You give yourselves a
great deal of unnecessary trouble; the
dispersion of the Jews will always be
an undeniable proof to ne of the trutl
of our holy religion.’
TESTIMONIES TO ITS VALUE.
66. Testimony of Distinguished Persons.
(al OF SIR WILLIAM J ONES.-—
Sir William Jones, whose interesting
writings on oriental subjects elucidated
many obscure points in Scripture his-
tory, was a general scholar, and em-
bellished and adorned every subject
that passed under his elegant pen. On
the blank leaf of his Bible, the following
finely conceived description was found
written :——“I have regularly and atten-
tively perused these Holy Scriptures,
and am of opinion that this volume,
independently of its Divine origin, con-
tains more true sublimity, more exqui-
site beauty, more pure morality, more
important history, and finer strains of
poetry and eloquence, than can be col-
lected from all other books, in whatever
age or language they may have been
written. The unstrained application of
them to events which took place long
after the publication, is a solid ground
for belief that they are genuine produc-
tions, and consequently inspired.”
(Ii) OF DR. AMES.—-Fisher Ames,
a distinguished American statesman
and orator, who died in 1808, was ar-
dently attached to the Bible. He la-
mented its prevailing disuse in schools,
and thought that children should be
well acquainted with it, both on ac-
count of the all-important truths it con-
tains, and because they would thus
learn the English language in its purity.
He was accustomed to say, “I will
hazard the assertion, that no man ever
did, or ever will, become truly eloquent,
without being a constant reader of the
Bible, and an admirer of the purity and
sublimity of its language.”
(0) OF PATRICK HENRY,--This
distinguished man was a native of Vir-
ginia, of which state ne became gov.
ernor. He was eminent through life
as a statesman and an orator. A little
before his death, he remarked to a
friend, who found him reading his Bible
“ Here is a book worth more than al.
the other books which ever were print-
ed; yet it is my r.iisfortune never tc
have, till lately, found time to read it
with proper attention and feeling ”
132
Q
v \
. \
.\\
:e \ \
\\.\\
\\~i\\\\
$...\. . \ sh
\\ .\
.\\
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PATRICK HENRY.
(d) OF DR. JOHNSON.—Dr. Sam-
uel Johnson is distinguished as a writer
on morals; his compositions have sel-
dorr been excelled in energy of thought
and beauty of expression. To a young
gentleman, who visited him on his death-
bed, he said, “Young man, attend to
the voice of one who has possessed a
certain degree of fame in the world,
and who will shortly appear before his
Maker: read the Bible every day of
your life.”
(e) OF DR. FRANKLIN.-—At the
time when the celebrated Dr. Franklin
lay upon his death-bed, he was visited
by a young man who had a great re-
spect for his judgment in all things;
and having entertained doubts as to the
truth of the Scriptures, he thought that
this awful period afforded a suitable
opportunity of consulting the doctor on
this important subject. Accordingly,
he introduced it in a solemn and weighty
manner, inquiring of Franklin what
were his sentiments as to the truth of
the Scriptures. On the question being
put, although he was in a very weak
state, and near his decease, he replied,
“ Young man, my advice to you is, that
you cultivate an acquaintance with,
and a firm belief in, the Holy Scrip-
tures 1 this is your certain interest.”
(f) OF WILLIAM COLLINS.-
Collins is Well known as a celebrated
English poet. In the latter part of his
life, he withdrew from his general
studies, and travelled with no other
book than an English New Testament,
such as children carry to school. A
friend was anxious to know what com-
panion a man of letters had chosen;
the poet said, “I have only one book,
but that book is the best.”
(g) OF MONSIEUR BAUTAIN.-—
M. L. Bautain, a professor of philo-
sophy at Strasburgh, has furnished an
account of the power of the Scriptures
on his heart :—-“ A single book has
saved me; but that book is not of hu-
man origin. Long had Idespised it;
long hadl deemed it acl-ass-book for
the credulous and ignorant ; until, hav-
ing investigated the gospel of Christ,
with an ardent desire to ascertain its
truth or falsity, its pages proffered to
my inquiries the sublimest knowledge
TESTIMON Y OF DISTINGUISHED PERSONS TO ITS VALUE.

55
of man and nature, and the simplest,
and at the same time, the most exalted
system of moral ethics. Faith, hope,
and charity were enkindled in my
bosom; and every advancing step
strengthened me in the conviction, that
the morals of this book are superior to
human morals, as its oracles are supe-
rior to human opinions.”
(h) OF COUNT OXENSTEIN.-—
It is stated, by the celebrated William
Penn, that Count Oxenstein, chancellor
of Sweden, being visited, in his retreat
from public business, by commissioner
VVhitlock, ambassador from England
to Queen Christiana, in the conclusion
of their discourse, he said to the am-
bassador, “I have seen much and en-
joyed much of this world; but I never
knew how to live till now. Ithank my
good God, who has given me time to
know him and likewise myself. All
the comfort I have, and all the comfortl
take, and which is more than the whole
world can give, is the knowledge of
God’s love in my heart, and the read-
ing in this blessed book,” laying his
hand on the Bible. “ You are now,”
he continued, “in the prime of your
age and vigor, and in great favor and
business; but this will all leave you,
and you will one day better understand
and relish what I say to you : then you
will find that there is more wisdom,
truth, comfort, and pleasure, in retiring
and turning your heart from the world,
in the good Spirit of God, and in read-
ing his sacred word, than in all the
courts and favors of princes.”
(i ) OF JOHN LOCKE.-—Locke
spent the last fourteen years of his life
in the study of the Bible ; and he wrote
“ The Common Place Book of the Scrip-
tures,” which is an invaluable fruit of
his Scripture Studies. These facts of
themselves give the strongest proof of
the high estimation in which this pro-
found thinker, and acute metaphysician,
held the Christian VVritings. He ad-
mired the wisdom and goodness of God
in the method of salvation they reveal ;
and, it is said, that when he thought up.
on it, he could not forbear crying out,
“O the depths of the riches of the
goodness and the knowledge of God !”
He was persuaded, that men would
133
66
BIBLE.

-_--—-. --_ --
be convinced of this by reading the
Scriptures without prejudice; and he
frequently exhorted those with whom
he conversed, to a serious study of these
sacred writings.
A relative inquired of him, what was
the shortest and surest way for a young
gentleman to attain a true knowledge
if the Christian religion’.2 “LET HIM
srnnv, said the philosopher, “THE
HoLY 'SeRIPTUREs, ESPECIALLY IN THE
NEW TESTAMENT. THEREIN ARE eoN-
TAINED THE wonns or ETERNAL LIFE.
IT HAs G01) FOR ITS AUTHOR, SALVA-
TION FOR ITS END, AND TRUTH WITH-
OUT ANY MIXTURE or ERROR FOR ITS
MATTER.”
66. Testimony of lnfidols.
(co) “I/VE VVILL NOT BURN
THAT BOOK TILL WE GET A
BETTER.”—A society of gentlemen,
most of whom had enjoyed a liberal
education, and were persons of polished
manners, but had unhappily imbibed in-
fidel principles, used to assemble at each
others’ houses, for the purpose of ridi-
culing the Scriptures, and hardening
one another in their unbelief. At last,
they unanimously formed a resolution
solemnly to burn the Bible, and so to be
troubled no more with a book which
was so hostile to their principles, and
disquieting to their conscience. The
day fixed upon arrived; a large fire
was prepared ; a Bible was laid on the
table, and a flowing bowl ready to drink
its dirge. For the execution of their
plan, they fixed upon a gentleman of
high birth, brilliant vivacity, and ele-
gance of manners. He undertook the
task; and, after a few enlivening
glasses, amidst the applause of his jovi-
al compeers, he approached the table,
took up the Bible, and was walking lei-
surely forward to put it into the fire;
but, happening to give it a look, he was
seized with trembling; paleness over-
spread his countenance, and he seemed
convulsed. He returned to the table,
and, laying down the Bible, said, with
a strong asseveration, “VVe will not
burn that book till we get a better."
Soon after this, the same gay and
lvely young gentleman died. and on his

qr‘
death-bed was led to true repentance,
deriving unshaken hopes of forgiveness
and of future blessedness from that book
which he was once going to burn. He
found it, indeed, the best book, not only
for a living, but a dying hour.
(b) DIDEROT’S CONFESSION.
-—It is related, that one day Mr. Beau-
zet, a member of the French Academy,
went to see Diderot, one of the cham-
pions of infidelity; he found him ex-
plaining a chapter of the gospel to his
daughter, as seriously, and with the
concern of a most Christian parent. Mr.
Beauzet expressed his surprise. “ I
understand you,” said Diderot, “ but
in truth what better lesson could I give
her ?”
HAPPY EFFECTS OF THE BIBLE.
67. Morality Promoted.
(a) THE TAILOR’S ASSOCI
ATES.—A Bible was sold, at a reduc
ed price to a tailor, who boarded in a
house with several apprentice boys.
One of them, having seen it, became
very anxious to obtain one on the same
terms ; and soon saved, from his small
earnings, a sufficient sum for its pur-
chase. He became serious, and kept
his Bible constantly near him whilst at
work. His associates in the same oc-
cupation were thoughtless, profane, and
constantly disposed to ridicule the book
he so much prized. One of them in
particular, more wicked than the rest,
used sometimes to take it up, and read
a passage for sport, or something worse.
At length, however, the truth became
too powerful for his depraved heart ; he
began to reflect upon the sin be was
committing, soon solicited the boon for
himself, abstaining from profaneness,
and, in connexion with the owner of the
Bible, succeeded in making it finable
for any one of their number to utter an
oath. The effect upon the whole was
remarkable; and several of them be-
came truly anxious about their souls,
sincerely praying to be made “ wise
unto salvation, through faith which
is in Christ Jesus.”
(1)) THE RUSSIAN MESSMATE.
—A minister at St. Petcrsburg, writes '
134
MORALITY PROMOTED.
57
—-In the spring of 1829, Timothy, the
hawker, called at my house with his
wares. My servants, who recommend
the Scriptures whenever they have an
opportunity, talked with this man on the
value of the New Testament, and ad-
vised him to buy a copy. “Of what
use can it be to me,” said he, “ when
I am not able to read 13” “Yes, it may
be of great service to you; you can
carry it to your lodgings, and have it
read to you ; or you can send it to your
family, some of whom can read it. It
will do good : buy one.” The man at-
tended to this advice, and carried the
book to his lodgings. ‘
We saw nothing more of this man
until autumn; when he returned, and
earnestly entreated a copy of every kind
of book we could give him. “ You can
form no idea,” said he, “ of the good
that book has done, which I bought here
in the spring. There are more than
thirty of us who mess together at the
same lodgings; and at the time when I
first took home the New Testament,
these men spent almost every evening
at the public house, and returned intoxi-
cated: but now the scene is quite al-
tered ; scarcely a man leaves the lodg-
ings in the evening. There are three
amongst us who can read; and they
take it by turns, and the others sit round
and listen to them. There is no drunk-
enness in our party now.”
Oh I what an interesting scene would
this group have presented to the eye of
an apostle ! Thirty poor villagers, col-
lected together from various parts of the
country, listening to one of their num-
ber reading the words of eternal life:
and, from this circumstance, breaking
off from their vices, saving their hard
earnings for their families, and acting
like rational creatures! How true it is,
that “godliness is profitable unto all
things l”
(0) THE MURDERER CONFESS-
ING.—A young German, who, for the
crime of murder in the second degree,
had been a long time in solitary con-
finement in America, was repeatedly
visited by a German clergyman, to
whom he made the most positive decla-
rations of his innocence. After six
months had elapsed, on leaving him one

evening, the clergyman pointed his
attention to three verses in the New
Testament, and particularly urged
upon him the importance of the
truths contained in them. He promis-
ed to read them—he did so—-and when
he threw himself upon his pallet to
rest, he found that sleep had forsaken
him; he turned again and again, but
still there was no rest. The' verses
had made a deep impression upon his
mind, and although he had for six
months persisted that he was innocent
of the crime of which he stood charged,
the first words he uttered to the keeper
in the morning were, “I did commit
that murder.” Being asked what had
now induced him to confess, he pointed
to the verses; they were as follows:
“If we say that we have no sin, we
deceive ourselves, and the truth is not
in us. If we confess our sins, He is
faithful and just to forgive us our sins,
and to cleanse us from all unrighteous
ness. If we say that we have not sin-
ned we make him a liar, and his word
is not in us.” 1 John 1 : 8-10.
(cl) COUNTERFEITERS RE.
CLAIMED.--Some few years ago,
two women and a man called one eve-
ning at the cabin of a schoolmaster, in
Ireland, requesting a lodging for the
night. The good man had just assem-
bled his family for evening worship,
having his Bible before him. He kind-
ly requested the strangers to walk in,
and began to read the second chapter
of the epistle to the Ephesians. This
he did slowly, and with emphasis, that
he might secure the attention of his
visitors to the important subjects on
which it treats. They all appeared to
pay attention, particularly the young
man, whose countenance indicated the
agitation of his mind. \Vhen the chap-
ter was ended, he inquired what book
that was out of which he had been
reading. His host replied, it was the
word of God. His agitation immediately
increased ; and, after remarking that he
never before knew there was such a
book, he began to inquire the meaning
of some of the passages which had par-
ticularly arrested his attention; name-
ly, “Dead in trespasscs and sins ;"
“Walking after the course of this
135
58
BIBLE.

s-_-n-—J—— '_ --I,
world ;” “By nature the children of
wrath,” etc. To all these, the good
man, in a plain and simple way, gave
answers. The young man heard with
the greatest attention, and could not
suppress the sigh whicl indicated what
Was passing within. He was referred
to those parts of Scripture which throw
light on the chapter that had been read ;
and especially on the parts he Wished
to have explained. Then, looking at
his host with great earnestness, he ex-
claimed, “ It is indeed the word of God ;
it is all true; and my state is fully
that which it describes. In this way I
have been walking from my childhood;
and, in the service of the god of this
world,I undertook the journey which
has brought me, my wife, and sister,
to your house. Oh that our souls may
be raised from that death in trespasses
and sins in which I have been involved
to this moment! I have long followed
no other employment, but that of de-
frauding the ignorant poor at fairs and
markets, by passing base money, which
I coin; and for this purpose are we
come here, on our way to attend the
fair which is to be held to-morrow
at -—--—.”
68. tlonmsion of Seaman.
(a) LONG-FORGOTTEN TEXT.
—A sailor once returned from a voyage
flushed with money, and as he had
never seen London, he resolved to treat
himself with a sight of whatever it con-
tained great or curious. Among other
places he paid a visit to St. Paul’s.
This happened during divine service.
When carelessly passing by, he heard
the officiating minister utter the words,
“ Pray without ceasing ;” but they then
made no impression on his mind: he
gratified his curiosity, returned to his
marine pursuits, and continued at sea
seven years without the occurrence of
any thing remarkable in his history.
One fine evening, as he was walking
on deck to enjoy the serene air, and
while his feelings were soothed by the
pleasing aspect of nature, on a sudden
the words darted into his mind-——“ Pray
without ceasing.” “Pray without
ceasing! what words can these be '2”

exclaimed he. “ I think I have heard
them before; where could it be '2”
After a pause, “ Oh! it was at St.
Paul’s in London; the minister read
them from the Bible. What! and do
the Scriptures say, ‘Pray without ceas-
ing '2’ Oh, what a wretch must I be,
to have lived so long without praying
at all!” God, who at first deposited
this scripture in his ea , now caused
it to spring up in a way, and at a time,
and with a power peculiarly his own.
The poor fellow now found the lightning
of conviction flash on his conscience,
and seemed to see the gulf of destruc-
tion ready to swallow him up. He
now began to pray; but praying was
not all. “O,” said he, “that I had a
Bible or some good book!” He rum-
maged his chest ; when lo, at one cor-
ner he found a Bible, which his anxious
mother had twenty years before put in
his chest, and which, till now, he had
never opened. He readily embraced
it, clasped it to his heart, read, wept,
prayed, believed, and became a new
man.
(ZJ) THE VERSE AND THE TO-
BACCO.—-Says a correspondent of a
Religious Tract Society :—On board a
vessel at Horsleydown, I found only an
old shipkeeper. Iasked him whether
he could read; he replied, he could
On asking him what books he read, his
reply was, “The Bible.” I then gave
him two tracts, and remarked that I
had sometimes seen parts of the Bible
in cheesemongers’ shops, which I
thought very wrong. He said he
differed from me: on asking his reason.
he stated that he was fbrmerly a grea
smoker, and on going to purchase some
tobacco, it was put up in a part of the
Bible. One verse struck him very
forcibly; and he was induced to pur
chase a Bible, and has read it daily to
the present time ; and, said he, “ Bless-
ed be God, I would not part with it, and
the hopesl have of salvation, for ten
thousand worlds.”
(0) “ WHAT BOOK IS THIS 2”—-
A meeting was once held in Liverpool,
for the establishment of a society to
supply sailors with Bibles. An active
agent of the society having moved the
first resolution, said, that as he saw so
136
CONVERSION
OF SEAMEN. 58

._—-,__
many sailors around him, he should not
ask any one to second his motion, but
leave it to some one of the sailors.
There was a deathlike silence for some
moments ; but a poor, old, blind sailor,
at the far end of the place, rose, and, in
a harsh voice, said, “Sir, there is not
an individual present who has greater
reason to second this resolution than the
person who now addresses you. Be-
fore Ihad arrived at twenty years of
age, I led the Van in every species of
vice and immorality. Our ship was
ordered to the coast of Guinea; a vio-
lent storm came on, the vivid lightning
flashed around, at last it struck my
eyes; from that time to the presentI
have not beheld the light of day; but,
sir, though I was deprived of sight,I
was not deprived of sin. Iwas very
fond of having books read to me, but,
alas! only bad books. At length a
Scotchman came to my house, and said,
‘I know you are fond of hearing books
read, will you hear me read ?’ I said
I had no objection: he read the book to
me. Ifelt interested, and, at the end
of his reading, I said, ‘Tell me what
book you have read.’ ‘Never mind,
said he, ‘I will come again and read
more; and he came again, and again,
and again. At last the tears gushed
out from my blind eyes, and I earnestly
exclaimed, ‘ Oh, sir, what book is this '2’
He said, ‘This book is the Bible.’
From that time, though blind, I see ; I
can now discern the way of salvation
by a crucified Saviour: from that time
to thisI have been enabled to follow
my Lord ; and I second this resolution,
knowing the advantages of circulating
the sacred volume.” ,Subsequently to
this, the poor old man obtained a few
shillings a week, which he divided, in
various portions, to different religious
societies; and gave sixpence a week
to a little boy, to read to him the sacred
Scriptures, and to lead him about from
house to house, and from cellar to cellar,
to promote the best interests of others.
(d) THE CAPTAIN TURNED
PREACHER.——A lady, who was ac-
tively engaged in the distribution of the
Holy Scriptures and religious tracts,
went, on one occasion, to the quay at

Plymouth, and requested permission of
a captain to go on board a man-of-war
in which were about eight l11lI1ClI‘63L
men, and many dissipated females. The
captain said, “ Madam, it will be of no
avail ; you will only meet with abuse.”
She answered, “I/Vith your leave I’ll.
o.” “ Certainly, madam,” he re-
plied; and she went. Something oc-
curred during the time, which irritated
the captain, who swore a most dreadful
oath. The lady said, “Sir, as you
have granted me one favor, I hope you
will confer another.” “ Certainly, ma-
dam,” was the reply. “ It is then, sir, that
you will please to keep from swearing
while I am in your ship :” this he com-
plied with. After the lady had gone round
the ship, and given away some tracts,
(and, to the honor of British sailors be it
spoken, they treated her with the great-
est respect,) she returned to the captain,
who was standing at the entrance of the
vessel. She thanked him kindly, and
said, “I have yet one more favor to
ask of you, sir, which I hope you will
comply with.” “Yes, certainly, ma-
dam,” was the reply. “ It is this,”
she said, presenting him with the New
Testament, “I desire you will read it
through twice.” He replied, “I will,
madam, for my word’s sake.”
Some years afterwards, when on a
visit to a place about five miles from
Plymouth, on the Lord’s day, she went
to church, where she heard an excellent
sermon. As she was reW;;;if‘: HWough
the churchyard, a gentleman accosteu
her, and said, “ Do you remember, ma-
dam, giving to a captain a New Testa-
ment, after distributing some tracts on
board a man-of-war, and desiring him
to read it twice Cl” “ Yes, sir,” she re-
plied. He added, “I am the man to
whom you gave it, and I have been
preaching to you today. Through
your instrumentality God has brought
me to love that book which once I de-
spised.”
(6) THE VVIDOIV’S SON AND
HIS BIBLE.—There was a pious wi-
dow living in the northern part of Eng-
land, on whom, in consequence of the
loss she had sustained, devolved the
sole care of a numerous family, consist-
ing of seven daughters and one son. It
was her chief anxiety to train up her
\
137
5S .
BIBLE.
children in those virtuous and religious
habits, which promote the present hap-
piness and the immortal welfare of man.
IIer efforts were crowned with the best
success, so far as the female branches
of her family were concerned. But,
alas I her boy proved ungrateful for her
care, and became her scourge and her
cross. He loved worldly company and
pleasure; till, having impoverished his
circumstances, it became necessary that
he should go to sea. When his mother
took her leave of him, she gave him a
New Testament, inscribed with his
name and her own, solemnly and tender-
ly entreating that he would keep the
book, and read it for her sake. He was
borne far away upon the bosom of the
trackless deep, and year after year
elapsed, without tidings of her boy. She
occasionally visited parts of the island
remote from her own residence, and par-
ticularly the metropolis; and, in What-
ever company she was cast, she made
it a point to inquire for the ship in which
her son sailed, if perchance she might
hear any tidings of the beloved object
who was always uppermost in her
thoughts. On one occasion, she acci-
dentally met, in a party in London, a
sea captain, of whom she made her ac-
customed inquiries. He informed her
that he knew the vessel, and that she
had been wrecked; that he also knew
a youth of the name of Charles ;
and added, that he was so depraved and
profligate a lad, that it were a good
thing if he, and all like him, were at the
bottom of the sea. Pierced to her in-
most soul, this unhappy mother with-
drew from the house, and resolved in
future upon strict retirement, in which
she might at once indulge and hide her
hopeless grief. “I shall go down to
the grave,” was her language, “ mourn-
ing for my son.” She fixed her resi-
dence at one of the sea-ports on the
northern coast. After the lapse of
some years, a half-naked sailor knock-
ed at her door, to ask relief. The sight
of a sailor was always interesting to her,
and never failed to awaken recollections
and emotions, better imagined than de-
scribed. She heard his tale. He had
seen great perils in the deep, had been
e/veral times wrecked, but said he had

'__
never been so dreadfully destitute as ‘.1:
was some years back, when himself and
a fine young gentleman were the only in-
dividuals, of a whole ship’s crew, tha
_were saved. “ We were cast upon a de-
sert island, where, after seven days and
nights, I closed his eyes. Poor fellow,
I shall never forget it.” And here the
tears stole down his weather-beaten
cheeks. “He read day and night in a
little book, which he said his mother
gave him, and which was the only thing
he saved. It was his companion every
moment ; he wept for his sins, he pray-
ed, he kissed the book; he talked of
nothing but this book and his mother ;
and at the last he gave it to me, with
many thanks for my poor services.
‘ There, Jack,’ said he, ‘ take this book,
and keep it, and read it, and may God
bless you——it’s all I’ve got.’ And then
he clasped my hand, and died in peace.”
“ Is all this true '2” said the trembling,
astonished mother. “ Yes, madam, every
word of it.” And then, drawing from‘-
his ragged jacket a little book, mucl
battered and time-worn, he held it up
exclaiming, “ And here’ s the very book,
too.” She seized the Testament, des-
cried her own handwriting, and beheld
the name of her son, coupled with her
own, on the cover. She gazed, she
read, she wept, she rejoiced. She
seemed to hear a voice, which said,
“Behold, thy son liveth.” Amidst her
conflicting emotions, she was ready to
exclaim, “ N ow, Lord, lettest thou thy
servant depart in peace, for mine eyes
have seen thy salvation.” “ Will you
part with that book, my honest fellow ?”
said the mother, anxious now to pos-
sess the precious relic. “ N o, madam,”
was the answer, “ not for any money,
-—not for all the world. He gave it me
with his dying hand. I have more than
once lost my all since I got it, without
losing this treasure, the value of which,
I hope, I have learned for myself; and
I will never part with it till I part with
the breath out of my body.”
THE TWOFOLD RESCUE.
——The late Rev. Legh Richmond was
once speaking at a meeting at Edin-
burgh, fbr the advancement of religion
among sailors, when he related the fol

j lowingfacts :-
138
CONVERSION
58
4
OF SEAMEN.

“ When I reflect on the character and
circumstances of seamen, I cannot with-
out peculiar interest recollect the time,
when a young man went to sea, whose
feelings were ill suited to all the con-
tingencies of a sea-faring life. I re-
member that the time came when it
was said the vessel in which he had
sailed had been wrecked, and that the
young man was dead, and no intimation
had reached the ears of his affectionate
parents, of any change in his views as
to the things of God. And I remember
the time when that young man was so
far restored again to his family, that al-
though they saw him not, they heard
that he had been saved from the ship-
wreck. That young man, too, was
found by the blessed God while on the
ocean with the Bible only, which his
father at parting had put into his hand.
It was blessed to him in the midst of the
carnal companions by whom he was
surrounded. This means of grace,
without any human instruction, was
made effectual to the salvation of his
soul. The time came when that young
man, who had been a fee to religion,
lifted up, in the Bay of Gibraltar, at his
mast-head, a Bethel flag, and summon-
ed his sailors to prayer, and prayed with
them, and bade the missionary exhort
them.——And whenI tell you that that
young man is my own son, you will see
that I may well say, God bless the
Sailors’ Friend!”
(g) THE SPIRITUAL LIFE-
BUOY.-—Said a youth to one of the
secretaries of the Bethel Companies:
“I sailed from London in a Scotch
vessel for the West Indies, second mate,
the most abandoned wretch that ever
sailed on salt water, particularly noted
for profane swearing. Our captain,
though a good seaman, and kind to his
ship’s company, cared not either for his
own soul, or for the souls of his ship’s
‘crew. We had been at sea about six-
teen days, when one night, during my
watch on deck, a sudden puff of wind
caused the vessel to give a heavy lurch.
Not being prepared to meet it, I was
capsized, and came head on against
one of the stanchions. Feeling much
hurt, I gave vent to my anger, by a
dreadful oath, cursing the wind, the

ship, the sea, and (awful to mention,
the Being who made them. Scarce
had this horrid oath escaped me when
it appeared to roll back upon my mind
with so frightful an image, that Iran
aft, and fbr a moment or two thought I
saw the sea parting, and the vessel
going down. All that night my awful
oath was passing before my eyes like a
spectre, and its consequences, my cer-
tain damnation. For several days I
was miserable; ashamed to say,the
cause. Iasked one of the men for a
book; he gave me one of Rousseau’s
novels. I asked him for a Testament,
and he sneeringly answered by asking
me if Iwas going to die. He never
troubled himself with these things; he
left Bibles and prayer-books to the
priests. Sewral days thus passed in
the greatest torment, this dreadful oath
always before me, and the devil con-
tinually harassing me with the dread-
ful thought, “I shall be damned,
I shall be damned.” I could not
pray; indeed, I thought it of no use.
On the fifth day I was turning over
some things in my chest, when I found
some trifies I had purchased for sea-
stock wrapped in paper-—this piece of
paper (putting his hand at the same
time into his pocket, and from a small
red case taking out a leaf containing
nearly the whole of the first chapter
of Isaiah) oh! how my heart throbbed,
when I found it a part of the Bible!
But, sir,” said he with a tear, “con-
ceive what I felt at these words,
‘ Though your sins be as scarlet, they
shall be white as snow ; though they
be red like crimson, they shall be as
wool I ” He paused to wipe away the
tears. Indeed, says the Secretary, my
eyes needed wiping too. “ O, sir,” he
continued, “ like a drowning man I
clung to this life-buoy ; on this Ilaid
my soul, while the billows were going
over me. I prayed, and the Lord was
graciously pleased to remove in some
measure the great guilt from my eon-
science, though I continued mournful
and bowed down until last evening, on
board the Mayfiower,I stowed away
among the Bethel Company. There
the Lord spoke my pardon and peace.
I am now like poor Legion, going home
139
59
BIBLE.
-4--_,-.__

to my friends to tell them what great
things the Lord has done for me. Fare-
well, sir.” “Farewell, my lad; the
Lord go with you.”
59. Conversion of the Profligate and Vicious.
(a) THE BIBLE AND THE
BRANDY BOTTLE.—-At an anni-
versary of a Bible Society in South
Carolina, a man was present who had
been in the habit of intemperance many
years. He had wasted a fortune, and
his amiable family were now sharing
with him poverty and disgrace. In the
evening a director of the Society saw
this man in a state of intoxication, and
presented him a Bible. He received
the drunken man’s thanks, who con-
fessed he had no such book at home,
and promised to keep it for himself and
family to read. Unable to reach his
nouse he slept by the roadside, and in
he night awoke, finding his Bible in
one pocket and a bottle of brandy in
the other. He said to himself, It will
not do to carry both home together,
and I do not know which to throw away.
If I throw away the Bible, I shall die a
drunkard, and the devil has me. If I
throw away the bottle, I give the lot to
God, and Imay die a good man. He
paused for reflection, and allowed the
convictions of duty to contend against
habit and inclination. The conflict was
a terrible one. Often did he raise his
hand to throw away from him the Bible,
drink his life out, and let the devil‘take
him. At last conscience prevailed, and
taking a hearty draught from the bottle,
he dashed it against a tree.
He reached home at the dawn of day,
zalled his family together, told them
what he had done, and what he was
resolved to do. The morning was
spent in reading in his new book with
his family, and late on the very same
morning they all kneeled around the
domestic altar, to offer to Heaven their
first united petition. The trembling
voice and broken expressions of the
father, unaccustomed to pray; the haif
suppressed emotions of his lovely chil-
dren, too deeply felt to be silently held
in their bosoms, and the loud Weeping
of his heart-broken companion, over-

come with joy and gratitude at the un-
expected scene, made an impression or:
that family which will not be forgotten
in eternity. This man now obtained
the confidence of the neighborhood ; he
was exemplary in his morals, a humble
and active Christian; and the Lord
crowned his temporal affairs with pros-
perity, and a family once wretched be
came truly happy.
(Z1) PICKPOCKET AT AN AN
NlVERSARY.—-The first meeting
of the Shoreditch Bible Association
was held in the church, which was
very much crowded. Some weeks
afterwards, the collectors callea on a
widow, who kept a small grocer’s shop,
for her subscription, which she had
always paid very cheerfully. As they
were going away, she said, “ Gentle-
men, I have got a young man, a ledger,
who is always poring over the Bible:
I dare say he would subscribe.” The
collectors were introduced to him to
solicit his subscription. He answered,
“I certainly will;” and gave them a
guinea, and desired them to put down
his name as a subscriber of sixpence a
week. The gentlemen were astonished,
and hesitated at taking so much, and
wished to return a part. He answered,
“No,I owe my all to the Shoreditch
Bible Association.” About a month
afterwards, the committee wished to
increase its number. This young man
was proposed and accepted. But when
the matter was mentioned to him, he
warmly replied, “ No, gentlemen, you
must pardon me,I am not worthy to
form a part of your committee. If you
want more money, Iwill gladly give
it; but to act on your committee, I
“cannot.” They in vain pressed the
matter, and wished to know his reasons.
About a year after, he requested his
landlady to desire the gentlemen to
wait upon him when they called, (he
had regularly paid his subscription
through the medium of his landlady,)
as he wanted to speak to them ; which
they did. “ Now, gentlemen,” said he,
“my lips are unsealed. I take my de-
parture for America this week. Here
are five guineas. Iwill now tell you
my short history. Two years ago, I
was one of the most profligate young
140
CONVERSION OF THE PROFLIGATE AND VICIOUS.
' ---_
55
men in the city of London. Iwas a
common pickpocket. At your anni-
versary, seeing the church crowded, I,
with several of my companions in ini-
quity, entered, in order to pursue our
sinful practices. From the crowded
state of the church, we were separated.
I got into the middle aisle, just in front
of the speakers. The first words I
caught were, ‘Thou shalt not steal.’
My attention was fixed ; my conscience
was touched; and tears began to flow.
In vain did my companions make their
signals to commence our operations.
As soon as the meeting closed, Ihur-
ried away, .hrew myself into the first
coach I found, drove to my lodgings in
the west end of the town, paid my rent,
took away all my things, and came
into this part of the city, in order to
hide myself from my companions ; and
providentially found this house. I im-
mediately inquired for a Bible; and for
the first time in my life began to read
it. I found my convictions of the evil
of my conduct increased, and I hope I
have now found peace and rest in be-
lieving on that Saviour whom the Bible
reveals.”
(0) LITTLE JACK AND HIS
FATHER.——The substance of the fol-
lowing story was related by the Rev.
Mr. S , at a meeting of the Young
Men’s Bible Society, of Baltimore,
March, 1822.
He stated, that at a meeting of a Bath
(England) Bible Association, he was pre-
sent when there was a call for volunteer
speakers, and a stranger came forward
and made the following statements.
He said, that in the county of Devon,
there lived a man, desperately and no-
toriously wicked, and of so cruel and
ferocious a disposition, as in some in-
stances to extinguish his natural affec-
tion for his own offspring. One day,
taking his little son by the hand, who
wag big enough to walk, he strolled to-
wards the cliffs, which in those parts
overhang the sea, and laid himself
down upon the grass. His playful lit-
tle son meanwhile amused himself with
picking up pebbles and throwing them
down at the feet of his father, who in a
churlish rage, having two or three times
hidden him desist without being obeyed,


gave vent to his anger, and with a kick,
which prostrated the child upon the
ground, left the poor creature screaming
with anguish and walked away. The
unhappy little sufferer having so far re-
covered as to regain his feet, wandered
so near the cliff as to fall over, and was
precipitated into the sea; but the air
in his dress, (for he still wore infantile
garments,) broke the force of his fall,
and prevented him from immediately
sinking. It happened that the boat of a
man-of-war, which was lying in the off
ing, was just then returning from a
watering place, and seeing an object
floating on the water rowed up to it,
took him in, and carried him on board
the ship. The sailors made a pet of
him and called him “ Little Jack ;”
and when he had become old enough
for the service, made him a powder-
monkey, (a title given to those who
carry cartridges to the gunners.)
This ship with some others of an in-
ferior size, having had a severe engage-
ment with the enemy, and many being
wounded, little Jack, the powder-
monkey, was employed to wait upon
the surgeon. Among the wounded who
were brought from other vessels for sur-
gical aid, was a man, both of whose legs
were shot away by a chain shot, and
the bones so shattered as to prevent any
hope of cure from amputation. Death
had indeed already begun to play
around his heart. IVhile he lay in
these mortal agonies, he fixed his eyes
steadfastly upon little Jack, and having
yet power to speak, asked the boy who
he was, and whence he came ’.l He told
him what the sailors had related to him,
and which was all he knew of himself.
The wounded man, who recognized the
features of his son in the boy, was now
convinced it must be he. I am, said
he, that ungodly and brutal father, who
left you upon the cliff, (relating the par-
ticulars,) from whence you must have
fallen into the sea. Beginning to grow
uneasy, I returned to the place where I
had left you ; but you had disappeared.
All my researches proved in vain; I
could gain no tidings of you. Suppos-
ing that you had perished through my
cruelty, I became frantic with grief, and
was on the point of putting an end to my
141
59, co
BIBLE.
existence ; but finally, in hopes of find-
ing some relief from my misery, I en-
tered on board a ship-of-war. Having
returned from a cruise, while lying in
port, a gentleman (a member of a Bible
Society) came on board, and asked per-
mission of the captain to distribute some
Bibles among the ship’s company.
It fell to my lot to receive one, which
became the means of my conversion to
God; and now I have redemption in
the blood of Jesus Christ, even the for-
giveness of all my sins. I have but a
few moments to live ; the pains of death
are upon me; I have no will to make,
not having any thing to leave you save
this Bible, taking it from his bosom and
presenting it to him in the language of
David to Solomon, “ and thou Solomon
my son know thou the God of thy fa-
thers; if thou seek him, he will be
found of thee; and if thou forsake him,
he will cast thee off forever.” As he
ended the quotation his voice faltered,
and he sank in death. The speaker,
said Mr. S., admitted that so strange a
story might seem incredible, but the
tears starting from his eyes, he put his
hand into his bosom, drew out a book,
and said, “ This is the Bible, and I am
Little Jack !”
(d) CUTTING A BIBLE IN
PIECES.—-A young man, a soldier,
who was leading a dissolute life, was
often reproved by a pious friend, but to
no purpose. At last, his friend gave
him a Bible; the young man immedi-
ately said, “I will cut it in pieces be-
fore your face ;” which he instantly did
with his sword, and ever after shunned
his f1'iend’s company. A bout two years
after this had occurred, he was brought
to a sick and dying bed, and sent for his
friend, and expressed a wish to have a
Bible brought to him. He received it,
and read it; and one day he clasped
the book with both his hands, and ex-
claimed, “ Oh that ever such a wretch
as I should be permitted to read this
blessed book, which I once cut in
pieces! This book has now out my
sins in pieces, and led me to Christ as
my Saviour. Oh thatI could recall my
Droperty and murdered time: all, all
should be spent it iistributing this bless-
ed book I”

60. Conversion of Infidels.
(a) ROCHESTER AND IS. LIII.
—-It is well known that this extraordi-
nary man was, for many years of his
life, an avowed infidel, and that a large
portion of his time was spent in ridicul-
ing the Bible. One of his biographers
has described him as “agreat wit, a
great sinner, and a great penitent.”
Even this man was converted by the
Holy Spirit in the use of his word.‘
Reading the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah,
he was convinced of the truth and in-
spiration of the Scriptures, the Deity of
the Messiah, and the value of his atone-
ment as a rock on which sinners may
build their hopes of salvation. On that
atonement he rested, and died in the
humble expectation of pardoning mercy
and heavenly happiness.
(6) THE YOUNG INFIDEL.—-
The grace of God was manifested in a
delightful manner, in the case of a
young man at Carlisle. He was an
avowed infidel, and his daring acts of
violence and outrage exhibited the state
of his mind. He fell sick, and his sick
ness was unto death: having wasted
his substance in riotous living, he was
now reduced to poverty and destitution.
A pious man visited him twice, admi-
nistered to his temporal necessities,
reasoned with him, recommended him
to read the Scriptures, and offered to
supply him with a Bible; but he ob-
tained nothing but scornful or evasive
answers. One of the collectors of the
Carlisle Ladies’ Bible Association also
visited him, and at length succeeded in
persuading him to receive a New Testa-
ment, with the Book of Psalms. From
that time he searched the Scriptures
daily and diligently. Through reading
them, he became convinced of sin, of
righteousness, and of judgment: his
blasphemies were changed for praise:
he confessed his sins, and professed love
to the Saviour. He declared also, that,
in the commencement of his illness, he
had resolved on destroying himself,
seeing that nothing but poverty and
death awaited him; but, holding forth
the Scriptures, he added, “ This bless-
ed book has shown me that it was a
temptation of Satan ; that God has given
142
CONVERSION OF INFIDELS.
60
_—.¢_,_.——.---_—_.___ ._

to us eternal life, and this life is in his
Son.” After continumg in this happy
state of mind for three or four months,
he died ; looking for the mercy of God
unto eternal life, through the redemp-
tion that is in Christ Jesus.
(e) THE MOCK DISCUSSION.——
The following facts were related by
the Rev. Dr Singer, the secretary of
the Hibernian Bible Society, at the
anniversary of the British and Foreign
Bible Society, in 1830 :-—
Some time since, in a midland county
in Ireland, a discussion took place, aris-
ing from the operations of the Reforma-
tion Society, between a Roman Catholic
and a Protestant clergyman. Many
farmers and peasants from the neigh-
borhood attended that discussion ; and,
being under the influence of infidelity,
they did so merely for the purpose of
ridiculing and censuring the arguments
which were brought forward by the
two clergymen. Many of the farmers
and peasants who attended were them-
selves deeply read, or, at least, were
well acquainted with the writings of
infidels; whose works, strange to tell,
have been circulated, in print and man-
uscript, through the country! They
ridiculed the circumstance; it amused
them ; and they said, “ we will have a
discussion of our own." “ You shall
be the Roman Catholic,” said one,
" and I will be the Protestant ; and our
friends here shall be judges who dis-
plays the most ability and ingenuity.”
They carried their blasphemous ob-
ject almost into effect: the time was
appointed, and they seriously set about
preparing for the contest. It was
agreed that they should do what they
had never done before——read the Scrip-
tures, in order to prepare for the attack.
And the result was, that those who did
so became convinced of the truth and
excellence of the Bible.
(d) CAUGHT VVITH GUILE.—
Mr. Robert Aitkin, a bookseller of
Philadelphia, was the first person who
printed a Bible in that city. Wltile he
kept a bookstore, a person called on
him, and inquired if he had Paine’s
“ Age of Reason” for sale. He told
hun he had not; but having entered
into conversation with him, and found

that he was an infidel, he told him he
had a better book than Paine’s “Age
of Reason,” which he usually sold for
a dollar, but would lend it to him, if
he would promise to read it; and after
he had actually read it, if he did not
think it worth a dollar, he would take
it again. The man consented; and
Mr. Aitkin put a Bible into his hands.
He smiled when he found what book
he had engaged to read; but said he
would perform his engagement. He
did so; and when he had finished the
perusal, he came back, and expressed
the deepest gratitude for Mr. Aitkin’s
recommendation of the book, saying it
had made him what he was not before
——a happy man; for he had found in
it the way of salvation through Christ.
Mr. Aitkin rejoiced in the event, and
had the satisfaction of knowing that this
reader of the Bible, from that day to
the end of his life, supported the char-
acter of a consistent Christian, and died
with a hope full of immortality.
(e) HALF DESTROYED BIBLE.
--A father, residing not far from Co-
lumbia, S. C., was about sending his
son to College. But as he knew the
influence to which he would be ex-
posed, he was not without a deep and
anxious solicitude for the spiritual and
eternal welfare of his favorite child.
Fearing lest the principles of Christian
faith, which he had endeavored to instil
into his mind, would be rudely assailed,
but trusting in the efficacy of that word
which is quick, and powerful, he pur-
chased, unknown to his son, an elegant
copy of the Bible, and deposited it at
the bottom of his t].‘I.Il-Iku The young
man entered upon his college career.
The restraints of a pious education
were soon broken off, and he proceeded
from speculation to doubts, and from
doubts to a denial of the reality of reli-
gion. After having become, in his
own estimation, wiser than his father, he
discovered one day, while rummaging
his trunk, with great surprise and indig-
nation, the sacred deposit. He took it
out, and while deliberating on the man-
ner in which he should treat it, be de-
termined that he would use it as waste
paper, on which to wipe his razor while
shaving. Accordingly, every time he
143
60
BIBLE.
went to shave, he tore out a leaf or two
of the holy book, and thus used it till
nearly half the volume was destroyed.
But while he was committing this out-
rage upon the sacred book, a text now
and then met his eye, and was carried
like a barbed arrow to his heart. At
length, he heard a sermon, which dis-
covered to him his own character, and
his exposure to the wrath of God, and
riveted upon his mind the impression
which he had received from the last
torn leaf of the blessed, yet insulted
volume. Had worlds been at his dis-
posal, he would freely have given them
all, could they have availed, in ena-
bling him to undo what he had done.
At length, he found forgiveness at the
foot of the cross. The torn leaves of
that sacred volume brought healing to
his soul ; for they led him to repose on
the mercy of God, which is sufficient
for the chief of sinners.
(f) AGE OF REASON AND THE
BIBLE.—A gentleman was once asked
in company, what led him to embrace
the truths of the gospel, which formerly
he was known to have neglected and
despised ! He said, “ My call and con-
version to God my Savior were pro-
duced by ver y singular means :—-A per-
son put into my hands Paine’s ‘Age of
Reason.’ I read it with attention, and
was much struck with the strong and
ridiculous representation he made of
many passages in the Bible. I confess,
to my shame, I had never read the Bible
through; but from what I remembered
to have heard at church, and accidentally
on other occasions, Icould not persuade
myself that Paine’s report was quite ex-
act, or that the Bible was quite so absurd
a book as he represented it. I resolved
therefore that Iwould read the Bible
regularly through, and compare the
passages when I had done so, that I
might give the Bible fair play. I accord-
ingly set myself to the task, and as I ad-
vanced, I was struck with the majesty
which spoke, the awfulness of the truths
contained in it, and the strong evidence
of its divine origin, which increased with
every page, so that I finished my inquiry
with the fullest satisfaction of the truth
as it IS 1n Jesus, and my heart was pene-

_-.
’_
trated with a sense of obligation Ihad
never felt before. I resolved henceforth
to take the sacred word for my guide, and
to be a faithful follower of the Son of God.
(g) TI-IE DEATH-BED REQUEST.
—A young man once went into the shop
of a tradesman at Reading, where the
subject of the Bible Society was men-
tioned, when he expressed, in language
rancorous and bitter, his hatred of the
institution. His passion was too violent
to allow at that time a word of remon-
strance to be addressed to him. The
fact was mentioned to a little girl, a
daughter of the tradesman, who was
then on her death-bed. She had felt
the power of Divine truth, and recom-
mended that they should subscribe for a
Bible, and present it to him. The re-
quest was attended to, and the Bible
was given him, with an account of the
dying child’s concern for his welfare.
He received it with gratitude, carefully
perused it, was deeply impressed with
its truths, and read it to his fellow-ser-
vants. In a word, he became a zeal-
ous and consistent advocate for the
Divine book, which he had formerly so
much opposed.
(it) A BIBLE LEFT IN A BARN.
—W hen the committee of a Bible Asso-
ciation, in the state of N ew-York, were
making exertions to supply every desti-
tute family with a copy of the book of
God, a distributor called at a house
where he met with an angry repulse.
The man of the house was full of
“ cursing and bitterness ;” he would not
suffer a Bible to be left at his house.
“If left any where,” said he, “ it shall
be left at the barn.” “Very well,” the
distributor meekly replied; “I do not
know that I could select a better place
for it: our blessed Savior once lay in a
manger!” He went quickly to the
barn, and deposited the sacred treasure
in a safe place, with much prayer that
it might bless even him who would not
allow it to remain in his house. The
man, struck with the unexpected reply
of the distributor, was led to think of his
own rashness and guilt, and especially
of the Savior’s birth-place. After two
or three days his distress became so
great. that he went out to the barn in
144
_nn-_-n ____.-. -qp-- _ __ '
CONVERSION
I‘
OF PAPISTS. 60, 6]

search of the rejected volume. He
turned to the passage which records the
circumstances connected with the birth
af the Redeemer, and wept, and re-
pented, and consecrated himself to God
through faith in Christ. The once
spurned book now found a place, not
only in his house, but its truths were
received into his heart, and controlled
his life.
IT IS NO TASK.--At an an.
nual meeting of the Cambridge Bible
Society, the Rev. Professor Scholefield
related the following anecdote of Mr.
Hone, the well known author of the
Every Day Book.——Mr. Hone, in the
days of his infidelity, was travelling in
Wales on foot, and being rather tired
and thirsty, he stopped at the door of a
cottage where there was a little girl
seated reading, and whom he asked,
if she would give him a little water.
“O yes, sir,” she said, “ if you will
come in, mother will give you some
milk and water ;” upon which he went
in and partook of that beverage, the
little girl again resuming her seat and
her book. After a short stay in the
cottage, he came out and accosted the
child at the door, “ Well, my little girl,
are you getting your task ’!” “O no,
sir,” she replied, “I am reading the
Bible.” “But,” said Mr. Hone, “ you
are getting your task out of the Bible.”
-—“ O no, sir, it is no task to me to
read the Bible-—it is a pleasure.” This
circumstance had such an effect upon
Mr. Hone, tha he determined to read
the Bible too. and he was now (said
Professor Scholefield) one of the fore-
most in upholding and defending the
great truths contained in that holy book.
61. Coiivcrsioii of Papists.
(a) A CLUSTER OF BLESSINGS.
--In the year 1828, a gentleman in
London gave the following interesting
account:
A few Sabbaths since, I was invited
by a serious woman in humble life to
visit her daughter, who was too much
afiiicted to leave her home. In the
afternoon I went, and found the lowly
dwelling, situated in a small dirty street,
hhabited by the poor. From the aspect


_-.-___
of the street,I was prepared to enter
an apartment of corresponding appear-
ance. I was, however, greatly sur-
prised, on entering, to witness the very
opposite to what I had imagined. All
was neat and tidy. The poor daughter,
who labored under great nervous de-
bility, accompanied with deafness, was
too weak to rise, but received me with
the greatest respect. Before reading
the Scriptures and prayer, which was
my errand, I felt an anxiety to hear the
outline of the history of a family in
which I had already found so much to
interest. The mother, with much sim-
plicity, gave me the following account:
“My father was a Roman Catholic,
and I was consequently brought up in
its superstitions. My husband is a sol-
dier, and has seen much active service,
having served in Egypt and at W'ater-
loo. I accompanied him in his cam-
paigns, and, being kept by almighty
power, was always noticed by the
offieers for my propriety of conduct,
which procured favors botl1 for my
husband and children. At the termina-
tion of the late war, we lodged in VVest-
minster, where, during my confinement,
I was visited by a gentleman from the
Bible Society of that district, who find-
ing I had no Bible, was desirous that I
should by small payments procure one;
to which I consented. On obtaining it,
I frequently read it; and the general
impression on my mind was surprise at
the many promises it contained. On
regaining my strength, I resolved to
attend some Protestant place of worship,
and, accordingly, occasionally visited
some chapels in the neighborhood, but
without receiving any permanent bene-
fit. It then pleased God to remove us
to our present situation, where I had
not long resided before a lady called,
and inquired if I should have any
objection to a prayer-meeting being held
in my apartment. I consented; and
such meetings have been held here from
that time until now, and have proved a
blessing to others in the street. It was
at these meetings it pleased the Father
of mercies to awaken in my mind a
sense of my danger, as a lost sinner,
and the consequent necessity of an in-
terest in Christ, the only Savior. My
IO
145
61
BIBLE.
“E
mind became progressively enlightened,
and being able to consult the Scriptures,
i trust I have increased in knowledge.
My afflicted daughter has also tasted
that the Lord is gracious, and one child
has died in the fear of the Lord ; and it
was on the very day that the Lord took
her to himself that this one was added
.0 a Christian church. So that, instead
of the grief which a mother may be
expected to feel at the loss of a beloved
child, I was lost in gratitude, that on the
same day the Lord should introduce one
to the church militant, and the other,
more,happy, to the church triumphant.
“I pray for my husband, and am not
without hope that God will answer my
prayers. He accompanies me to public
worship, joins in domestic worship,
which I am obliged to lead, and, as far
as external deportment is concerned, is
a changed man.”
(Z2) HEARING A CHILD READ.
--In an Irish school, in London, the
children were allowed to take the New
Testament home with them at night, to
learn from it their lessons for next day.
One of the boys read his Testament to
his father and mother, who were Roman
Catholics, and they felt much interested
in what they heard. The wife was
taken dangerously ill, and the husband
requested a Protestant clergyman to
visit her; whom he informed, that, in
consequence of hearing the child read
the Scriptures, they had renounced
Popery, and regularly attended his
ministry. “I have reason to thank
God and you,” said the man, “ for
teaching my son in the school. I have
been all my life in ignorance, sin, and
misery, until I heard that book. Now
I am taught to put my trust in Christ
alone for salvation.” The woman, too,
gave evidence in life and death of her
dependence on the merits and interces-
sions of Jesus for eternal life. Her
husband and son afterwards returned to
Ireland, determined, by the Divine help,
to make the Bible the only rule of their
faith and practice.
(0) OPPOSING PROTESTANT_
ISM.-—In the short reign of Edward
VI., Peter Martyr, under the Prince’s
patronage, read Divinity lectures at Ox-
ford, and opposed the doctrines of the

real presence and other popish dogmas.
The papists were alarmed, and began
to look eagerly for some polemic cham-
pion to oppose him. After much solici-
tation they prevailed on Rev. Bernard
Gilpin, then resident at Oxford, and a
Roman Catholic, to enter the lists with
Martyr. This engagement led him to
study the subject more deeply: he
searched the Scriptures, the writings
of the fathers, and conferred with a
goodly number of divines then living,
and the result was a renunciation of
popery as indefensible.
(d) FRAGMENT OF A TESTA.
MENT.——In that part of Ireland from
which I come, said the Rev. D. Stew-
art, at a public meeting in London, in
1880, there lived a boatswain of most
immoral character, a breaker of the
Sabbath, and a profaner of God’s holy
name. One Sunday, as he and a
friend were rowing in a beat up the
Liffey, Whither they had resorted from
the pot-house, they saw something stick-
ing in the mud; which, on approach-
ing, they discovered to be a fragment
of the New Testament. The boatswain
was, at first, inclined to leave it; but
thought, by its means, of ridiculing the
sacred truths of religion ; and, for that
purpose, took it home, read it often, and
pondered over it well; which had, at
length, an effect far different from that
which he had anticipated. It convinc-
ed him that the dogmas of Romanism
were incompatible with the free circu-
lation of the word of God. This man
was induced to attend the controversy
then carrying on between the Catholic
and Protestant clergy, which led him to
think, read, and study. What Was the
effect? the immediate abandonment of
the errors of Romanism, and his exer-
cise of the right of free judgment. He
began to grow fond of reading the New
Testament, and now prized it beyond
all he was worth in the world besides,
as it led him to reflect on his past life
with horror. He eventually became a
true Christian.
(e) REPENTANCE BETTER
THAN PENANCE.-—Among the
speakers at the Anniversary of the
British and Foreign Bible Society, in
May, 1840, was Professor Pelet of Ge-
146
CONVERSION
OF SOLDIERS. 62

neva, who made this impressive state-
ment :—-
“ Among the soldiers of the French
army, in which reigns so much levity
and infidelity, we have been very suc-
cessful. Some of them carry the word
of God into their own departments, and
it is a means of extending the work be-
vond all that we can tell. A man in a
little village in France, when he was
voung, wished to be a monk. That was
preventet. He retired to a forest,
where he ate roots which he found
there, to imitate John the Baptist; and
he bore that name among his acquaint-
ances. There he remained some time,
but found no peace to his soul. He
went again to his village, sold the pro-
perty he had, made nine parts of it, and
gave eight parts to the poor. He re-
duced hnnself to the condition of a
simple workman, but yet he found no
peace. The church edifice of the vil-
age was too little. It was decided to
build a new one ; and he himself would
go to the quarry, to get blocks for the
building. He gave them the little
money he had remaining, and yet
nothing brought comfort to his soul.
He sought the Lord but found him not;
till one (f the Colporteurs came to his vil-
lage, and gave him the New Testament.
He read it, and there he found what he
had before sought in vain.”
692. Conversion of Soldiers
(a) THE BIBLE IN A PRISON-
SHIP.—-—In a report of the N ismes Bible
Sodety, may be found an affecting anec-
dote of one of their subscribers, who was
formerly attached to Bonaparte’s army.
An officer of the society, struck with the
modest zeal of this man in the support
of the cause, asked him if his support
of the society did not proceed from his
knowledge of the incalculable value of
the Bible. “It is so,” said he; “ and
I will inform you how it took place.
Under the late emperor I was attached
to the army ; and being taken prisoner,
and carried to England, I was confined
in one of the prison ships. There,
huddled together with my companions,
and deprived of every thing that could
.end to lessen the miseries of my situa-

tion, I abandoned myself to dark despair,
and resolved to make away with myself.
Under these circumstances, an Eng-
lish clergyman visited us, and addressed
us to the following effect :—-‘ My hee rt
leeds for your losses and privations,
nor is it in my power to remedy therr ;
but I can offer consolation for your im.
mortal souls, and this consolation is con-
tained in the word of God. Read this
book, my friends; for I am willing to
present every one with a copy of the
Bible who is desirous to possess it I’
The tone of kindness with which he
spoke, and the candor of this pious man,
made such an impression upon me, that
I burst into tears. I gratefully accept-
ed a Bible, and in it I found abundant
consolation amidst all my distresses.
From that moment the Bible became
precious to my soul; out of it I have
gathered motives for resignation, and
courage to bear up in adversity; and I
feel happy in the idea, that it may prove
to others what it has proved to me.”
(1)) ONLY VERSE MEMORIZ-
ED.--A youth, who had been instruct-
ed in a Sunday school, in the southern
part of Kent, though the son of a pious
widow, was remarkable for thoughtless-
ness and vice. The clergyman, by
whom the school was commenced, felt
the deepest sympathy with his mother,
but was at length compelled to exclude
her son from the school, who soon be-
came, on account of his wicked conduct,
the terror of the whole neighborhood.
After a while he entered the army,
and went with his regiment to America.
While there, one of the sergeants of the
regiment visited England, and calling
on the poor woman, she made him the
bearer of a Bible to her son, and sent
an earnest request that he would read
one verse of it every day. He received
the book and message with great indif-
ference, saying, “I’ll try what I can
do ;” and opening the Bible, added,
“Here goes.” But mark the happy
result. “ How strange I” exclaimed he,
unable then, for tears, to add more.
His eye had caught the only passage he
had ever been prevailed upon to com-
mit to memory at the Sunday school:
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and
are heavy laden, and I will give you
147
62, 63
BIBLE.
a—___._-__----——-_ -_ -q-.
rest,” Matt. 11 : 28. Such was the
happy effect of this text on his heart,
that he who had been notorious for
swearing, lying, dishonesty, and other
vices, now embraced the invitation of
the Lord Jesus, and became adorned
with Christian excellences. He soon
after died on the field of battle, at New
Orleans, with his head on the very pas-
sage which first arrested his attention!
His Bible, stained with his blood, was
brought to England.
(0) THE POWER OF DIVINE
TRUTI-I.—At a meeting of the London
Religious Tract Society, the Rev.
James Hill, formerly of Calcutta, related
the following fact respecting Captain
Connolly, whose overland tour to India
had lately been published.
The captain went out a stranger to
God, and to true religion; but his sis-
ters were pious ladies, and one of them
happened before he went to put into his
baggage a Bible. I think he had never
read, never looked into it. It so happened,
that on his journey to India he was taken
captive by a tribe of the Turcomans,
through the treachery of his guide. He
was made prisoner for a short time. On
one occasion he was leading a camel
with his own baggage, which had been
taken from him, and out dropped the
Bible which his sister had given him.
He took it up ; he had never read it be-
fore, and he sat down on a portion of
his own baggage, that he was employed
in loading upon the camel, and he read
of “ the unsearchable riches of Christ.”
His mind was in a state to receive the
truth ; and he told me in Calcutta, that
the first religious impression made on
his heart was on that occasion, as he
sat amidst the wilds of the Turcoman
country.
(cl) THE BULLET AND THE
TEXT.—Dr. John Evans, the author of
some excellent sermons on the Christian
temper, introduced, on one occasion, a
sermon to young people, in the follow-
ing manner :—Shall I be allowed to
preface this discourse with relating a
passage concerning an acquaintance of
mine, who has been many years dead,
but which I remember to have received,
when young, from himself '2 When he
was an apprentice in this city, the civil

war began ; his inclination led him into
the army, where he had a captain’s
commission. It was fashionable for all
the men of that army to carry a Bible
along with them ; which, therefore,
he and many others did, who yet made
-ittle use of it, and hardly had any sense
of serious religion. At length he was
commanded, with his company, to storm
a fort, wherein they were, for a short
time, exposed to the thickest oi the
enemy’s fire. When he had accom-
plished his enterprise, and the heat of
the action was over, he found that a.
musket ball had lodged in his Bible,
which was in his pocket, upon such a
part of his body, that it must necessa-
rily have proved mortal to him, had it
not been for this seasonable and well-
placed piece of armor. Upon a nearer
observation, he found the ball had made
its way so far in his Bible, as to rest
directly upon that part of the first un-
broken leaf, where the words of my
text are found. It was Eccles. 11 : 9;
“ Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth ;
and let thy heart cheer thee in the days
of thy youth, and walk in the ways of
thine heart, and in the sight of thine
eyes; but know thou, that for all these
things God will bring thee into judg-
ment.” As the surprising deliverance,
you may apprehend, much affected
him, so a passage, which his conscience
told him was very apposite to his case,
and which Providence in so remarkable
a way pointed to his observation, made
the deepest and best impression on his
mind ; and, by the grace of God, he from
that time attended to religion in earnest,
and continued in the practice of it to a
good old age; frequently making the
remark with pleasure, that his Bible
had been the salvation both of his body
and his soul.
63.C0nversien of the Learned and Eminent.
(a) THE GOTTINGEN PROFES-
SOR.——In the summer of ~1824, two
gentlemen from London, in the course
of a tour through Germany, came to
Gottingen, where they visited several
professors eminent for their meritorious
exertions in the promotion of learning.
They were received by all in the most
148 ‘
CONVERSION OF THE LEARNED AND EMINENT.
63
friendly manner, but by one in particu-
‘er, who afforded them some of the most
uelightful hours they enjoyed on their
tour. With the greatest readiness, and
in the most obliging manner, he showed
his visitors every thing interesting in his
house, at the same time gratifying them
by many entertaining relations. Hav-
ing directed their attention to various
objects, he left the room, but soon re-
turned with a Bible under his arm, and,
with a countenance as grave as it had
before been cheerful, he addressed
them in nearly the following words:
“ You must now allow me to relate an
extraordinary occurrence. Some years
ago, I was in great danger of losing my
sight, which had become so bad that I
could scarcely distinguish any thing.
The prospect of passing the last days
of my life in blindness, made me so
melancholy, that I resolved to make a
tour to Bremen to recover my spirits.
On this tour I came to Hanover, where
some friends took me into the duke of
Cambridge’s library, and showed me
some Bibles, lately sent by the Bible
Society in London as a present to the
Duke. VVishing to try whether, in my
blindness, I could (iisflnguish the paper
and print of those from the common ones,
I took one up merely for that purpose,
without the least intention of selecting
any particular passage; and now see
what 1 read!” He here opened the
Bible, and read Isa. 42: 16, “ ‘And I
will bring the blind by a way that they
knew nvt; Iwill lead them in paths
that they have not known: I will make
darkness light before them, and crooked
things straight. These things will I do
unto them and not forsake them.’ I
read this verse, and received spiritual
sight.” At these words he was so
much affected, that the tears ran down
his cheeks. “ VVith a cheerful mind I
now journeyed back to Gottingen, and
my greatest desire was to possess a
Bible, in which this verse stood on the
same page ann in the same place.
Shortly afterwards Iwas visited by a
friend from London, to whom I related
the occurrence, and immediately re-
ceived his promise to send me one as
soon as possible, whie‘i he did.” The

Bible he continued to esteem as his
reatest earthly treasure.
(b) CONVERSION OF A DOC-
TOR OF DIVINITY.—A doctor of
divinity in Silesia, to whom the Rev.
Mr. Reichardt, a missionary to the
Jews, was introduced, was one of the
greatest enemies to the gospel; but
while he was endeavoring to write
against it, and to settle himself more
steadfastly in his own principles, it
struck him that he had never read his
Bible, though he had preached from
texts in it. He began to read it; but
had not long been reading the first
pages, when it struck him that if this
book was indeed the truth, then all the
edifice he had built for himself must be
broken down. This conviction in-
creased, till it pleased the Lord to im-
press him with the spirit of that book ;
and he became a truly pious Christian,
and the means of turning many from
darkness to light.
(0) I/VILBERFORCE’S CONVER-
SION.—From a speech delivered by
Joseph .Iohn Gurney, Esq., at the meet-
ing of the British and Foreign Bible
Society, in 1834, we learn that Mr.
Wilberforce was in the 24th year of
his age when he was elected member
of parliament for Hull. He afterwards
attended the county election, and such
was the charm of his eloquence on that
occasion, in the large castle area at
York, that the people all cried, “ IV e
will have that little man for our mem-
ber.” He was then one of the gayest
of the gay : not an openly vicious man,
but peculiar for his wit, and his distinc-
tion in the fashionable circles. His wit
became innocuous under Christian prin-
ciples. He was said to be the “joy
and crown of Doncaster races.” He
went to pay a visit to a relation at Nice,
and was accompanied by the Rev. Isaac
Milner, afterwards dean of Carlisle.
Mention was made of a certain indi-
vidual who moved in the same rank,
an ecclesiastical gentleman, a man
devoted to his duty. Mr. \V. said, re-
garding him, “that he thought he car-
ried things too far ;” to which Mr. Mll-
ner said, he was inclined to think that
Mr. W. would form a different estimate
149
64
BIBLE.
on the subject, were he carefully to
peruse the whole of the New Testa-
ment. Mr. Wilberforce replied that he
would take him at his word, and read
it through with pleasure. They were
both Greek scholars, and in their jour-
ney they perused the New Testament
together. That single perusal was so
blessed to Mr. I/Vilberforce, that he was
revolutionized ; he became a new man;
and the witty songster, the joy and
crown of Doncaster races, proved the
Christian senator, and at length became
the able advocate for abolishing the
slave trade.
64. Conversion of the Heathen.
(a) DECREASE OF LAWSUITS.
--Lieutenant-colonel Phipps relates the
following pleasing narrative :—I was
travelling in a remote district in Bengal,
and I came to the house of a gentleman
belonging to Portugal. I found him
reading the Scriptures in the Bengalee
to seventy or eighty people, men, we-
men, and children, of that country, who
were all very attentive. This gentle-
man told me that he had been led to
employ some of his leisure moments in
this way. “ And to-morrow,” said he,
“as you pass my farm, mention my
name; and they will procure you a bed ;
and you will then see the effects of
reading the Scriptures.” The next day
I called at his estate, where I saw one
hundred men, women, and children,
who had all become converts to Chris-
tianity within three or four years. I
inquired how they found themselves:
they appeared delighted, and thought it
a happy thing for them that Europeans
had translated the Scriptures, that they
might read in their own tongue the
wonderful works of God. I had some
intercourse, also, with an oflicial person
in that district, and I mention it because
some persons tell you that nothing is
done by the missionaries. I asked the
magistrate what was the conduct of
these Christians; and he said, “There
is something in them that does excite
astonishment: the inhabitants of this
listrict are particularly known ‘as being
to litigious and troublesome, that they

have scarcely any matter but what they
bring into the courts of justice; but
during three or four years not one
of these people has brought a cause
against any one, or any one against
them.” I mention this to show that
Christianity will produce, in all coun-
tries, peace and happiness, to those who
know the truth as it is in Jesus.
(b) CUTTING UP AN IDOL FOR
FUEL.—Some years ago, Mr. Ward,
a Christian missionary, in going through
a village near Calcutta, left at a native
shop a Bengalee New Testament, that
it might be read by any of the vil-
lagers. About a year afterwards, three
or four of the most intelligent of the
inhabitants came to inquire further res-
pecting the contents of the book left in
their village. This ended in six or
eight of them making a public profession
of Christianity. Among these, one de-
serves particular notice. An old man,
named Juggernath, who had long been
a devotee to the idol of that name in
Orissa, had made many pilgrimages
thither, and had acquired such a name
for sanctity, that a rich man, in Orissa,
was said to have offered him a pension
for life, on condition of his remaining
with him. On his becoming acquaint
ed with the New Testament, he first
hung his image of Khrishnoo, or Jug-
gernath, which he had hitherto wor
shipped, on a tree in his garden, ano
at length cut it up to boil his rice. He
remained steadfast in his profession of
Christianity till his death. Two others
being men of superior natural endow-
ments, employed themselves in publish-
ing the doctrines of Christianity to
their countrymen in the most fearless
manner ; while their conduct was such
as to secure them universal esteem.
(0) THE HINDOO AND THE
BITS OF PAPER.—-The late Rev.
Dr. Corrie, bishop of Madras, was
formerly the chaplain of Allahabad.
At that time there was no Hindostanee
version of the Scriptures; and it was
his custom to translate, on small bits of
paper, striking passages of Scripture
into that language, and every morning
distribute these papers at his door.
Twenty years afterwards, he received
150
MISCELLANEOUS CONVERSIONS.
ea, 65

-—~
a communication from a missionary at
Allahabad, who informed him that a
person in ill health had arrived there,
and that he had been to visit him. He
had come to see his friends, and die
among them, after an absence of more
than twenty years. The missionary
had visited him there several times, and
was so astonished at his knowledge of
the Scripture, and his impressions of its
great realities, that he put the question,
“ How is it, my friend, that you are so
well informed in the sacred Scriptures?
You have told me you have never seen
a missionary in your life, nor any one to
teach you the way of life and salvation!”
And what was his answer? He put
his hand behind his pillow, and drew
out a bundle of well worn and tattered
bits of paper, and said, “From these
bits of paper, which a sahib distributed
at his door, whom I have never seen
since, have I learned all. These papers,
which I received twenty years ago, and
have read every day, till they are thus
tumbled and spoiled, are passages of
Scripture in the Hindostanee language;
from them I have derived all the infor-
mation on eternal realities which I now
possess. This is the source of my
information; thus I have derived my
knowledge.” ,
(d) THE SUTYA-GOOROOS.—
About the year 1820, a number of per-
sons were found in a few villages near
Dacca, in India, who had forsaken ido-
latry, and who constantly refused to
render to the Brahmins the customary
honors. They were said also to be
remarkable for the correctness of their
conduct, and particularly for their ad-
herence to truth. They were the
followers of no particular leader, but
from their professing to be in search
of a true Gooroo or teacher, they were
termed Sutya-Gooroos. It was said that
they had derived all their principles
from a book which was carefully pre-
served in one of their villages.
Some native Christians resolved to
visit the sect of whom they had heard
so many remarkable particulars. The
singular book from which their prin-
ciples were derived, was exhibited to
the visitors. It was much worn, and


was preserved in a case of metal re-
sembling brass. VVhence it came no
one could tell. On examination, it was
found to be a copy of the first edition
of the Bengalee New Testament, printed
at Serampore in 1800. This copy of
a part of the sacred volume seemed to
have thus prepared many inhabitants
scattered through ten or twelve villages,
to receive religious instruction from
missionaries, who afterwards labored
among them with success. I
65. Misaellaneous Conversions.
(a) CONVERSION OF AUGUS-
TIN E.—-In the spring of the year 372,
a young man in the thirty-first year of
his age, in evident distress of mind.
entered into his garden near Milan.
The sins of his youth—a youth spent
in sensuality and im iety—-weighed
heavily on his soul. ying under a
fig-tree, moaning and pouring out abun-_
dant tears, he heard, from a neighbor-
ing house, a young voice saying, and
repeating in rapid succession, “Tolle.
lege, Tolle, lege !” take and read, take
and read. Receiving this as a divine
admonition, he returned to the place
where he left his friend Alypius to
procure the roll of St. Paul’s epistles,
which he had, a short time before, left
with him. “I seized the roll,” says he,
in describing this scene, “I opened it,
and read in silence the chapter on
which my eyes first alighted.” It
was the thirteenth of Romans. “Let
us walk honestly, as in the day; not
in rioting and drunkenness, not in
chambering and wantonness, not in
strife and envying. But put ye on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and make not pro-
vision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts
thereof.” All was decided by a word.
“I did not want to read any more,”
said he; “nor was there any need;
every doubt was banished.” The
morning star had risen in his heart.
In the language of Gaussen :—-“ Jesus
had conquered; and the grand career
of Augustine, the holiest of the fathers,
then commenced. A passage of God’s
word had kindled that glorious lumi-
nary, which was to enlighten the
151
65
BIBLE.
church for ten centuries; and whose
beams gladden her even to this present
day. After thirty-one years of revolt,
of combats, of falls, of misery; faith,
life, eternal peace, came to this erring
soul ; a new day, an eternal day came
upon it.”
(Z2) THE BIBLE IN THE I/VAY.
—An individual in the interior of this
state, says the Charleston Observer,
gives the following account of the man-
ner in which he was first arrested by
the power of divine truth:
He had been one of those who had
paid no regard to the subject of religion.
“God was not in all his thoughts,”
though his awful name was frequently
upon his lips in oaths and blasphemies.
One morning as he arose, his eyes fell
upon the Bible which lay upon a shelf
immediately over his washstand, and it
seemed to him a silent reprover of his
ways. It had long occupied its pre-
sent position, without exciting the
slightest notice. He took it down,
brushed the dust from it, and put it
back again. The next morning, the
first object that arrested his attention
was that very Bible, and it continued
there morning after morning to reprove
him, till he became so much annoyed
by its presence, that be resolved to put
it out of the way. Taking it down
with this view he opened it, and the
first passage upon which his eye light-
ed, was descriptive of his own char-
acter. He continued to read, and was
troubled and affected by the accuracy
with which it delineated his own heart
and life. He closed it, returned it to
its former position, and engaged in the
occupations of the day with a heavy
heart. At length, while he was read-
ing it one morning, supposing himself
to be unobserved, he turned around to
see whether his wife, who had not yet
risen, was awake or asleep, and found
her bathed in a flood of tears. She had
long been anxious for his salvation, and
she was much affected at seeing him
morning after morning stealing a glance
at the word of life. When he saw
he was discovered, he remarked, “It
Is of no use to conceal it any longer.
I am a poor miserable sinner, and I find

there is no redemption but in Christ
Jesus. Will you pray for me? and
will you go to the house of God? for
from this time forth Iam resolved to
prepare for heaven.” And from that
time forth he did become an altered
man-—-a happy, consistent, humble, and
devoted Christian. Thus the Bible,
casually placed in the way of a wicked
man, proved instrumental, through the
Spirit, in bringing him to Christ, and in
hiding a multitude of sins.
(c) THE SPARED LEAF.--In a
certain town in Rhode Island, there lived
two young men, who were intimately
acquainted. The one was truly pious,
and the other, a shopman, paid no regard
to divine things. On one occasion the
shopman took up a leaf of the Bible,
and was about to tear it in pieces, and
use it for packing up some small parcel
in the shop, when the other said, “ Do
not tear that: it contains the word of
eternal life.” The young man, though
he did not relish the reproof of his kind
and pious friend, folded up the leaf, and
put it in his pocket. Shortly after this,
he said within himself, “Now I will
see what kind of life it is, of which this
leaf speaks.” On unfolding the leaf,
the first words that caught his eye were
the last in the book of Daniel : “ But go
thou thy way till the end he : for thou
shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the
end of the days.” He began immedi-
ately to inquire what his lot would be
at the end of the days, and the train of
thought thus awakened led to the for-
mation of a religious character. By
means so various are the purposes of
Divine grace accomplished.
(d) THE SIXPENCE.-—Some time
in the latter part of the last century,
says Rev. Mr. Grinnell, a missionary
from one of the New England Societies
was laboring in the interior of the State
of New York, where the settlements
were very few and far between. This
missionary was much devoted to his
work, meek and affable, and possessed
of a remarkable faculty for introducing
the subject of religion to every indivi-
dual with whom he came in contact.
On a hot summer’s day, While his horse
was drinking from a small brook
152
BENEFIT PO
CHRISTIANS. 66

through which he rode, there came
along a poor-dressed, bare-headed, bare-
footed boy, about 7 years old, and stood
looking at the missionary from the
bridge just above him.
“ My son,” said the missionary,
“ have you any parents '2”
“ Yes, sir ; they live in that house,”
pointing to a cabin near by.
“ Do your parents pray ’?” “ No, sir.”
“ Why do they not pray ’.l”
“I do not know, sir.”
“ Do you pray ’!” “ No, sir.”
“ Why do you not pray ?”
“ I do not know how to pray.”
“ Can you read ’?”
“ Yes, sir ; my mother has taught me
read the New Testament.”
“If I will give you this sixpence,
will you go home and read the third
chapter of John, and read the third verse
over three times ’?” The little boy said
he would ; and the missionary gave him
the sixpence and rode on.
Some twenty years had elapsed, and
the same missionary, advanced in years,
was laboring in a sparsely peopled re-
gion, in another part of the same state.
While on his way to a little village one
day, late in the afternoon, he called at
asmall house, and inquired the distance.
“Six miles,” was the reply. He then
stated that himself and horse were very
weary, and inquired if he could not
stay all night. The woman of the
house objected on account of their
poverty, but the husband said, “Sir,
you shall be welcome to such as we
have?’
The missionary dismounted and went
in. The wife began to prepare his sup-
per, while her husband proceeded to
take care of the horse. As he came in,
the missionary addressed him : “ Do
you love the Lord Jesus Christ '5”
“ That,” said the man, “is a great
question.” “True,” said the mission-
ary, but I cannot eat till you tell me.”
“Sir,” said the man, “ about 20 years
ago, I lived in the interior of this state,
and was then about '7 years old. While
playing in the road one day, a gentle-
man in black, rode into the brook near
by me, to water his horse. As I stood
on the bridge above looking at him, he
began to converse with me about pray-
tC
ing, and reading the Bible; and told
me he would give me a sixpence if I
would read the 3d chapter of John and
the third verse, three times-“ And
Jesus answered and said unto him,
Verily I say unto thee, except a man
be born again he cannot see the king-
dom of God.” I gave him my promise,
took the money, and felt wealthy in-
deed. I went home, and read as I had
promised. That verse produced an un-
easiness in my mind, which followed
me for days and years, and finally I
was led by its influence, as I trust, to
love Jesus as my Saviour! “ Glory to
God l” said the missionary, rising from
his seat; “ here is one of my spiritual
children ; the bread cast on the waters
is found after many days I”
They took their supper, and talked
and sang and prayed and rejoiced to-
gether all night long, neither of them
having any disposition to sleep. The
missionary found him to be poor in this
world’s goods, but rich in faith, and an
heir of the kingdom. Early in the
morning they parted, and the missionary
went his way inspired with fresh zeal
for the prosecution of his pious labors.
66. Benefit to Christians.
a) NOT THE VVORLD FOR MY
BI LE.—A poor woman at Glouces-
ter, who had received a Bible from an
association a few months before, being
asked by the collectors what value she
set upon it, replied, “I would not take
for it all this world could ofi’er. For,”
she continued, “since I received my
Bible, I have been called to pass through
great trials. In those trials my Bible
gave me that comfort which the world
and all its riches could not ; it gave me
a hope, through that Saviour whom it
reveals, of eternal life beyond the grave
—-—a hope of heaven. This hope has
made my sufferings appear light, to
what they would have been, if my hope
had been in this life only.”
(Z2) DAVID SAUNDERS.—“I have
led but a lonely life,” said David Saun
ders, (“ the Shepherd of Salisbury
plain,”) “and often have had but little
to eat; but my Bible has been meat,
drink, and company to me ; and when
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66
BIBLE.
want and trouble have come upon me,
Idon’t know what I should have done
indeed, if I had not had the promises
of this book for my stay and su port.”
(0) SCRIPTURE PRACTI-CALLY
USED.—Mr. John Conway, of Mon-
mouthshire, (Eng) was remarkably
subject to nervous affections, which in-
duced a very painful degree of mental
depression. He informed Mrs. Conway,
that at one season he was so harassed
by this atiliction, which doubtless was
aggravated by the fiery darts of the
wicked one, as to render his existence
almost insupportable. Relief was sought,
and in some measure derived from the
following wise expedient : he furnished
himself with a variety of Scriptures,
eminently expressive of the love and
faithfulness of God, and of his great will-
ingness to receive these that are disposed
to accept salvation on gospel terms.
To these he referred and fled for refuge
whenever he found the enemy coming
in like a flood ; and in the hands of the
Spirit, he found them sufficient to lift
up a standard against him.
(cl) THE DYING SOLDIER.——In
the memorabl-e conflict at Waterloo, a
soldier, mortally wounded, was convey-
ed to the rear by a comrade, and at a
distance from the battle was laid down
under a tree. The dying man request-
ed to have his knapsack opened, that he
might obtain from it his pocket Bible.
He then requested his comrade to read
to him, if but a small portion of it, be-
fore he should breathe his last. He
was asked what passage he would have
read to him, and he fixed upon John
14.-: 27: “Peace I leave with you, my
peace I give unto you: not as the world
giveth, give I unto you. Let not your
heart be troubled, neither let it be
afraid.” “ Now,” said the dying sol-
dier, “I die happy. I desired to have
peace with God, and I possess the peace
of God which passeth all understand-
ing.”
A little while after one of the officers
passed near, and seeing him in such an
exhausted state, asked him how he felt.
He replied, “I die happy, for I enjoy
the peace of God which passeth all un-
derstanding ;” and then expired.
(e) BIBLE IN A COAL MINE.--.
In one of the coal mines of England, a
youth, about fifteen years of age, was
working by the side of his father, who
was a pious man, and governed and
educated his family according to the
word of God. The father was in the
habit of carrying with him a small
pocket Bible, and the son, who had
received one at the Sunday school, lmi
tated his father in this.——Thus he al
ways had the sacred volume with him,
and whenever he enjoyed a season of
rest from labor, he read it by the light
of his lamp. They worked together in
a newly opened section of the mine, and
the father had just stepped aside a short
distance to procure a tool, when the
arch above them suddenly fell between
him and his son, so that the father sup-
posed his child to be crushed. He ran
towards the place, and called to‘his son,
who at length responded from under a
dense mass of earth and coal. “My
son,” cried the father, “are you liv-
ing ’?” “Yes, father, but my legs are
under a rock.” “Where is your lamp,
my son '2” “It is still burning, father.”
“ What will you do, my dear son ’!”
“I am reading my Bible, my father,
and the Lord strengthens me.” These
were the last words of that child; he
was soon sufibcated.
THE USE OF THE BIBLE
—A little boy had often amused him-
self by looking over the pictures of a
large Bible; and his mother one day
said to him, “John, do you know the
use of the Bible '2” He said, “ No, me-
ther.” “ Then, John, be sure you ask
your father,” Was the advice she gave
him. Soon afterwards, John ran up to
him, and said, “ I should like to know,
father, what is the use of the Bible Cl”
His father said, “I will tell you another
time, John.” The boy appeared disap-
pointed, and walked awa .
A few days after, the father took his
son to a house Where was a woman
very il- in bed, and began to talk to her;
she said that she had suffered a great
deal of pain, but hoped that she was
resigned to the will of God. “ Do you
think,” said the father, “that God does
right to permit you to feel so much
pain .»” “O, yes,” answered the we
154
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE.
ee, 67

7 7
man ; “ for God is my heavenly Father,
who loves me ; and I am sure that He,
who loves me so much, would not per-
mit me to suffer as I do, if it were not
for my good.” He then said, “ How is
it that you find your sufferings do you
good '2” She replied, “My sufferings
are good for my soul; they make me
more humble, more patient; they make
me feel the value of the Savior more,
and to pray more, and Iam sure all
this is good for me.” John had been
very attentive to this conversation, and
the tears stood in his eyes while the
afflicted woman was talking. His fa-
ther looked at him, and then said to the
woman, “My ood woman, can you
tell me what is the use of the Bible ?”
John was extremely eager to hear her
answer. The woman, with a stronger
voice than before, said, “O sir, the
Bible has been my comfort in my
affliction-.” “There, John,” said his
father, “now you know one use of the
Bible ; it can give us comfort when we
most need it.”
(g) BEST PLACE TO LEARN.
—Mr. Cecil, during a severe illness,
said to a person who spoke of it, “ It is
all Christ. I keep death in view. If
God does not please to raise me up, he
intends me better. I find every thing
but religion only vanity.-—To recollect
a promise of the Bible: this is sub-
stance ! Nothing will do but the Bible.
If I read authors, and hear different
opinions, I cannot say this is truth I I
cannot grasp it as substance; but the
Bible gives me something to hold. I
have learned more within these curtains,
than from all the books I ever read.”
(h) DR. ELY AND THE NE-
GRESS.—A little beyond the smoking
ruins o ’ one hundred tenements which
had been destro ed by fire, in the city
of N ew-York, r. Ely overtook a wo-
man of color; under one arm she
carried five large brands, and under
the other a quarto Bible. “Poor wo-
man,” said he, “ have you been burned
out too?” “Yes, massa, but blessed
be God, I’m alive.” “You are very
old to be turned out of house and home.”
‘‘I’m well stricken in years, but God
does it ; and in dis world ’tis one’s turn
to~da,v. and anudder’s to-morrow.”

“Have you saved nothing but the
Bible '2” “Noting but one trunk 0’
things; but dis blessed book is wort
more as all de rest. It make me feel
better than all de rest. So long as I
keep dis, I content.”
67. Love for the Bible.
(a) ANCIENT CHRISTIANS.-
We learn, from Chrysostom, that in the
primitive church, women and children
had frequently the Gospels, or parts of
the New Testament, hung round their
neck, and carried them constantly about
with them. The rich had splendid
copies of the sacred writings on vellum,
in their libraries and book-cases; but
as the art of printing was not known
till many ages after, complete copies
of the Scriptures were, of course, ex-
ceedingly scarce. Children were par-
ticularly encouraged in the efforts
which they made to commit to memory
the invaluable truths of the divine
volume. Though in those times the
Bible was to be multiplied by no other
means than the pen, and every letter
was to be traced out with the finger,
so repeatedly were the Scriptures copied
that many of the early Christians had
them in their possession ; and they were
so copied into their writings, that a cel-
ebrated scholar engaged, that if the
New Testament, by any accidental
circumstances, should be lest, he would
undertake to restore it, with the excep-
tion of a few verses of one of the Epis-
tles; and he pledged himself to find
these in a short time.
(12) FELIX, THE MARTYR.-—The
most excruciating tortures were fre-
quently inflicted on many of the ancient
Christians, who refused to deliver up
their copies of the Scriptures to the
heathen; but all kinds of suffering,
and even death itself, were nobly
braved by many Christian worthies, to
whom the book of God was more pre-
cious than life. Felix, an African,
being apprehended as a Christian, was
commanded, by the civil magistrate of
the city, to deliver up all books and
writings belonging to his church, that
they might be burned. The martyr
replied that it was better he himself
155 Q»
67
BIBLE.
should be burned. The magistrate,
therefore, sent him to the proconsul at
Carthage, by whom he was delivered
over to the prefect of the Praetorium,
who was then in Africa. This su-
preme officer, offended at his bold and
candid confession, commanded him to
be loaded with heavier bolts and irons ;
and after being kept in a close and
miserable dungeon nine days, ordered
him to be put on board a vessel, saying,
he should stand his trial before the
emperor. In this voyage he lay for
four days under the hatches of the ship,
between the horses’ feet, without eating
or drinking. He was landed at Agra-
gentum, in Sicily ; and when brought
by the prefect as far as Venosa, in
Apulia, his irons were knocked off, and
he was again asked whether he had the
Scriptures, and would deliver them up.
“I have them,” said he, “ but will not
part with them.” On making this
assertion, he was instantly condemned
to be beheaded. “I thank thee, O
Lord,” exclaimed this faithful and
heroic martyr, “that I have lived fifty-
six years, have preserved the gospel,
and have preached the faith and truth.
O my Lord Jesus Christ, the God of
heaven and earth, I how my head to be
sacrificed to thee, who livest to all
eternity.”
(0) NOT A TITTLE TO BE AL-
TERED.—When Valens, the emperor,
sent messengers to seduce Eusebius to
heresy by fair words and large pro-
mises, he answered: “ Alas! sirs, these
speeches are fit to catch little children ;
but we, who are taught and nourished
by the Holy Scriptures, are ready to
suffer a thousand deaths rather than
permit one tittle of the Scriptures to be
altered.”
(d) KING ALFRED AND HIS
PSALTER.—King Alfred the Great
encountered many difficulties in obtain-
ing scriptural knowledge, which we
have never experienced, and manifested
an attachment to the sacred volume not
oflm seen now. In those dark ages,
learning was considered rather a re-
proach than an honor to a prince. In
addition to which. his kingdom, for
many years, was the seat of incessant
War. Notwithstanding all this, Alfred

|_.---
found opportunity not only to read the
word of God, but actually to copy out
all the Psalms of David: which book
he constantly carried in his bosom.
That he profited greatly from reading
the Scriptures is no matter of surprise,
when we learn, that, after the example
of David, he earnestly sought divine
teaching, and prayed that the Lord
would open his eyes, that he might un-
derstand his law. He frequently en-
tered the churches secretly in the night
for prayer; and there lamented, with
sighs, the want of more acquaintance
with divine wisdom. Having drunk
into the spirit of the Bible, and experi-
enced the rich consolation it affords, in
setting before the burdened sinner a
free and full salvation in Jesus, he
wished it published to all around; he
therefore commenced a translation of
the Psalms into Anglo-Saxon, though
he did not, however, live to finish the
work.
(6) MARGARET PIERRONE.—
Margaret Pierrone, a martyr of the
sixteenth century, resided in Valen-
ciennes. She Was accused by a
wicked female servant, to the Jesuits,
because she had not been for many
years at the mass, and had kept in her
house a Bible, in reading which was
her whole delight. The magistrates
being informed of it, caused her to be
apprehended.
Being in prison the judges called her
before them, and said, “Margaret, are
you not willing to return home to your
house, and there live with your hus-
band and children '2” “ Yes,” said she,
“if it may stand with the good will of
God.” They added further, that they
had so wrought with the Jesuits that in
doing a small matter she might be set
at liberty. “ A scaffold shall be erected
in the chief place of the city, upon
which you are to present yourself, and
there to crave pardon for offending the
law. Then, a fire being kindled, you
must cast your Bible therein to be con-
sumed, without speaking any word at
all.” “I pray you, my masters, tell
me,” said Margaret, “is my Bible at
good book or not?” “Yes, we con.
fess it is good,” said they. “If you
allow it to be good,” replied the W0-
156
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE.
67
_p
man, “ why would you have me cast it
mto the fire ?” “Only,” said they,
“ to give the Jesuits content. Imagine
it to be but paper that you burn, and
then all is well enough. Do so much
for saving your life, and we will med-
dle no more with you. You may ob-
tain another whenever you will.”
They spent about two hours in en-
deavoring to persuade her. “ By the
help of God,” answered Margaret, “I
will never consent to do it. I will burn
my body before I will burn my Bible.”
Unable to weaken her resolution, her
enemies committed her a close prisoner,
to be fed only with bread and water,
and none to be permitted so much as to
speak to her, thinking by this hard
usage to overcome her: but all was to
no purpose. A doctor of divinity was
frequently sent to her to turn her from
her resolution; but he found it too hard
a task for him to effect, and often con-
fessed to those Who sent him, that he
found in her no cause why they should
put her to death.
On January 22, 1593, however, she
was condemned to be brought upon a
stage, erected in the marketplace be-
fore the town-house, first to see her
books burned, then herself to be stran-
gled at a post, and her body dragged.
to the dunghill without the city. Com-
ing to the place, she ascended the scaf-
fold, and distinctly pronounced the
Lord’ s prayer. Then, seeing her books
burned in her presence, she uttered
these words, with an audible voice:
“ You burn there the word of God,
which yourselves have acknowledged
to be good and holy.” Having again
repeated the Lord’s prayer, she was
immediately strangled.
MONEY LOST—BIBl E SAV-
ED.—Fox, the martyrologist, informs
as of an English sailor, who, being
shipwrecked, lost all his property ex-
cept his Bible, which he was deter-
mined to save, and of which he took
more care than of his money. Having
clung to the wreck until all others on
board perished, he committed himself
to the sea, with his Bible tied round his
neck with a handkerchief. After float-
ing upon the water for a long time, sup-
ported by a piece of the mast_ he was

happily discovered by the crew of an.
other vessel, sitting unon the broken
fragment which preserved him from a
watery grave; and when thus almost
miraculously delivered from starvation
and death, he was reading his Bible!
(g) TESTAMENT AND HAL-
TER.—When King Henry VIII. had
allowed the Bible to be set forth to be
read in the churches, immediately sev-
eral poor men in the town of Chelms-
ford, in Essex, where the father of
William Malden lived, and where he
was born, bought the New Testament,
and on Sundays sat reading it in the
lower end of the church. Many flocked
about them to hear them read ; and he,
among the rest, being then about fifteen
years old, came every Sunday to hear
the glad and sweet tidings of the gospel.
But his father, observing it once, an-
grily fetched him away, and would
have him say the Latin matins with
him, which much grieved him. And
as he returned, at other times, to hear
the Scriptures read, his father would
still fetch him away. This put him
upon the thought of learning to read,
that he might search the New Testa-
ment himself; which, when he had by
diligence effected, he, and his father’s
apprentice, bought a New Testament,
joining their little stocks together; and,
to conceal it, laid it under the bed-
straw, and read it at convenient times.
One night, having discarded the act
of bowing down to the crucifix, in con-
versation with his mother, she was en-
raged, and went and informed his father,
who, inflamed witl anger at hearing
that his son denied mat worship was
due to the cross, went into his son’s
room, and pulling him out of bed by
the hair, beat him most unmercifully.
The lad bore all with patience, consid-
ering that it was for Christ’s sake, as
he said, when he related the anecdote
in queen Elizabeth’s reign. Enraged
at this calmness, the father ran and
fetched a halter, which he put round
his son’s neck, and would have hanged
him, but for the interference of his
mother. Such scenes, doubtless, occur-
red in many families.
(71) OLD ROBERT’S GIRDLE.-—
A singular instance of attachment to
157
67
BIBLE.
the word of God was shown by a poor
and illiterate, but pious and excellent
man, the servant of John Bruen, Esq.
of Stapleford, in Cheshire. He was
most commonly called Old Robert ; and
though he could neither write nor read,
he became mighty in the Scriptures,
by means of a curious invention, by
which he assisted his memory. He
framed a girdle of leather, long and
large, which went twice round him.
This he divided into several parts, al-
letting every book in the Bible, in their
order, to one of these divisions; then,
for the chapters, he affixed points or
thongs of leather to the several divi-
sions, and made knots by fives or tens
thereupon, to distinguish the chapters
of that book; ano by other points he
divided the chapters into their particu-
lar contents, or verses, as occasion re-
quired. This he used instead of pen
and ink, in hearing sermons, and made
so good a use of it, that, coming home,
he was able by it to repeat the sermon,
and quote the texts of Scripture, &c. to
his own great comfort, and to the bene-
fit of others. This girdle Mr. Bruen
kept after Old Robert’s death, hung it
up in his study, and used pleasantly to
call it, “the girdle of verity.”
(2') MORE STUDIED, MORE
PRECIOUS.—Dr. Buchanan, in a con-
versation he had with a friend, a short
time before his death, was describing
the minute pains he had been taking
with the proofs and revisions of the Sy-
riac Testament, every page of which
passed under his eye fwe times before it
was finally sent to press. He said, he
had expected beforehand that this pro-
cess would have proved irksome to him,
but that every fresh perusal of the
sacred page seemed to unveil new
beauties. Here he stopped, and said he
to his friend, as soon as he recovered
himself, “I could not suppress the emo-
tion I felt, as I recollected the delight
it pleased God to afford me in the read-
ing of his word.”
(jl PURBLIND MAN’S DE-
VICE.——Mr. Harris, a London trades-
man, whose sight had decayed, procur-
ed the whole New Testament, except
the book of Revelation, and also the
book of Psalms, to be written with white

'_ 7-i _ -
ink on black paper, in letters an inc‘:
long, that he might enjoy the consola-
tions of the gospel of Christ.
(It) THE SHORT-HAND COPY.
—-During the persecution of the non-
conformists, in the reign of James II.,
one of them copied out the whole Bible
in shorthand for his own use, fearing
the re-establishment of popery, and the
suppression of the Holy Scriptures.
(Z) SIX MONTHS’ WORK FOR
A TESTAMENT.——A young man in
Ireland, originally a Roman Catholic,
was bound apprentice to a linen weaver.
Having learned to read, and a New
Testament happening to lie neglected
in his master’s house, it became the
constant companion of his leisure hours.
His apprenticeship being fimshed, he
proposed going to see his brother in
Castlebar, in the county of Mayo. and
begged of his master the New Testa-
ment, as a reward for his services. The
master, knowing his attachment to the
book, refused to give it to him on any
other terms than his further servitude
for six months. The young man, judg-
ing that a copy might be obtained on
easier terms at Castlebar, declined this.
But, alas! not a Testament was there
for sale, in this the principal town of a
populous county in Ireland. (1811.) He
could not live without it; and accord-
ingly returned and labored half a yeal
for a New Testament.
(on) DR. KENNICOTT AND
WIFE.—During the time that Dr. Ken-
nicott was employed in preparing his
Polyglot Bible, he was accustomed to
hear his wife read to him in their daily
airings, those different portions to which
his immediate attention was called.
When preparing for their ride, the day
after this great work was completed,
upon her asking him what book she
should now take, ‘Oh,’ exclaimed he,
‘ let us begin the Bible.’
(12) BIBLE PRIZED ABOVE
FREEDOM.——The Rev. Mr. Fraser,
a liberated colored missionary from An
tigua, states the following fact ;—-
The names of Mr. and Mrs. Thwaites
are well known in the island of Antigua,
as connected with all efforts of practical
education. Mrs. Thwaites gave to a
girl, who attended one of their Sunday
158
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE.
-_-_-q ---_
67
-..—-~ . -——-

schools, a Bible. Nancy, for that was
her name, took home the Bible to the
estate to which she belonged. Nancy
was ill ; he Bible was her constant
companion. Nancy get well, and went
in and out ; but the Bible was always
near to her. At length, the overseer
asked her what she had got there. She
showed it to him. He looked on with
admiration, for it was well bound.
“ Where did you get this ?” She told
him. “ Will you sell this IDOOK ?”
“No, sir ; if you will give me my free-
dom for it, you shall not have it.” Let
no one think that Nancy did not know
the value of freedom. No ; it was not
that she despised freedom ; but it was a
stretch of thought in the mind of a slave
to find out the most valuable thing with
which to compare the Bible; and the
most valuable thing to the heart of that
negro, was rejected for the Bible.
(0) WELSH PEASANTS AND
THEIR BIBLES.—When the arrival
of the cart, which carried the first sa-
cred load of the Scriptures, sent by the
British and Foreign Bible Society, to
VVales, in 1806, was announced, the
VVelsh peasants went out in crowds to
meet it; welcomed it as the Israelites
did the ark of old; drew it into the
town ; and eagerly bore off all the
copies as rapidly as they could be dis-
persed. The young people were to be
seen spending the whole night in read-
ing it. Laborers carried it with them
to the field, that they might enjoy it
during the intervals of labor, and lose
no opportunity of becoming acquainted
with its blessed truths.
(p) TI-IE DYING INDIAN BOY.
—-The missionary, on visiting him, says,
“ I found him dying of consumption, and
in a state of the most awful poverty and
destitution, in a small birch-rind cover-
ed hut, with nothing but a few fern-
leaves under him, and an old blanket
over him. After recovering from my
surprise, I said, ‘My poor boy, I am
very sorry to see you in this state ; had
you let me know, you should not have
been lying here.’ He replied, ‘It is
very little I want now, and these poor
people get it for me ; but I should like
something softer to lie upon, as my
bones are very sore.’ I then asked him

concerning the state of his mind, when
he replied, that he was very happy;
that Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, had
died to save him, and that he had the
most perfect confidence in him. Ob-
serving a small Bible under the corner
of his blanket, I said, ‘ Jack, you have
a friend there ; I am glad to see that; I
hope you find something good there.’
Weak as he was, he raised himself on
his elbow, held it in his attenuated hand,
while a smile played on his counte-
nance, and slowly spoke, in precisely
the following words: ‘ That, sir, is my
dear friend. You gave it me. For a
long time I read it much, and often
thought of what it told. Last year I
went to see my sister at Lake Winni-
peg, (about two hundred miles off,)
where I remained about two months.
When I was half way back through the
lake, I remembered that I had left my
Bible behind me. I directly turned
round, andwas nine days by myself,
tossing to and fro, before I could reach
the house ; but I found my friend, and
determined that I would not part with it
again, and ever since it has been near
my breast, and I thought I should have
buried it with me ; but I have thought
since, I had better give it to you, when
Iam gone, and it may do some one
else ood.”
q) DESIRE FOR THE BIBLE.
—- ong before the Bibles arrived at Ta-
hiti, says Rev. Mr. Pritchard, many of
the people placed in the hands of the
missionaries their money to purchase
them, that they might not be disappoint-
ed when they came to hand. At length
a small packing-case, containing thirty
Bibles, arrived with Mr. Nott’s boxes
and trunks from Sydney, New South
\Vales. Mr. Nott having been taken
ill, after his luggage had been put on
board, was obliged to remain in Sydney,
but sent or. most of his things to Tahiti.
It was by some means ascertained by the
natives that there was a box of Tahitian
Bibles at Papeete, in a store kept by an
English merchant. They came repeat-
edly to me, begging that I would open
the box and let them have the Bibles,
for they would be doing no good lying
there, but, in their hands, they might de
rive benefit from them. I told them Mr.
15‘)
BIBLE.
Nott had sent a letter, stating that not a
single box or trunk must be opened till
he arrived.
Perceiving that there was no proba-
bility of getting them from me, they de-
vised a plan by which they obtained
them. Several of the chiefs and one or
two members of the royal family went
to the store where the Bibles were, and
entered, as though they had come to
purchase some of the articles there ex-
posed for sale. A few of them stood
round the store-keeper, talking to him,
that he might not easily perceive what
the others were doing, when, all at once,
he heard a tremendous crash, and, to
his great surprise, he found they had
broken the case, and were scrambling
for the Bibles. The man begged that
they would not take them, stating that
they were in his charge, and that he
should be blamed if he allowed them to
0. His entreaties Were all in vain;
they had now got them in their posses-
sion. They said to the store-keeper,
“ Don’t you fear, we will at once write
down the name of each person Who has
one, and we are willing to pay any
price that may be demanded for them,
but we will not give them up.” We
do not attempt to justify the steps taken
to obtain the Bibles, but state the fact
to show their earnest desire to possess
them.
The Queen’s secretary succeeded in
getting one, and, passing by the mis-
sionary’s door, he called in to acquaint
him with what had taken place, and to
show him his treasure. The dinner be-
ing on the table, the missionary said to
him, “Put down your Bible, and dine
with us.” He replied, “ Not to-day, I
have better food here ; I want to go and
feed upon this spiritual food.” In ge-
neral a native does not need much
pressing to induce him to partake ; but
on this occasion he declined the kind
invitation, and hastened home to feed
upon “the meat which endureth unto
eternal life.”
(7') PEASANT COPYING THE
TESTAMENT.—-A peasant, in the
county of Cork, (Ireland,) understanding
that a gentleman had a copy of the
Scriptures in the Irish language, beg-
ged to see it. He asked whether he

L
I ma-
might borrow the New Testament in his
own tongue, that he might take a copy
from it. The gentleman said he could
not obtain another copy, and he was
afraid to trust it to take a copy in writ-
ing. “ Where will you get the paper '2"
asked the gentleman. “ I will buy it.”
“ And the pens and ink ?” “I will
buy them.” “Where will you nd a
place '2” “ If your honor will allow me
your hall, I will come afterl have done
my work in the day, and take a copy
by portions of time in the evening.”
The gentleman was so struck with his
zeal, that he gave him the use of the
hall and a light, in order to take a copy.
The man was firm to his purpose,
finished the Work, and produced a copy
of the New Testament in writing by his
own hand. A printed copy was given
to him in exchange, and the written one
was placed in the hands of the president
of the British and Foreign Bible Society,
as a monument of the desire of the Irish
to know the Scriptures.
(8) THE SPIRITUAL BEGGAR.
——Both his hands and his feet had been
eaten off by a disease, Which the na-
tives call kokovi. But he was industri-
ous and raised food sufficient to support
his family. He walked on his knees ;
he dug the ground with an instrument,
and then scraping out the earth with the
stumps of his arms, he contrived to place
the plant in the hole, and to fill in the
earth. Mr. Williams once fell in with
him as he was walking along, and found
to his astonishment that the poor cripple
possessed a wonderful knowledge of the
gospel, and a truly Christian spirit.
Having never seen him at any place of
worship, Mr. VVilliams asked, “ But
where did you obtain your knowledge '2”
“ Why,” said he, “ as the people re-
turn from the services, I take my seat
by the wayside, and beg a bit of the
word as they pass by; one gives me
one piece, another another piece, and I
collect them together in my heart, and
by thinking on what I thus obtain, and
praying to God to make me know, I un.
derstand a little about his Word.” Beg.
ging the truth piece-meal from the na-
tives who heard it——this poor cripple
obtained a knowledge of the Gospel,
that would put thousands, in the most
160
p W _|__" 0"-
LOVE FOR THE BIBLE. 6'5

favored parts of Christendom, to the
blush I
(t) JANE GRAY’S PREFER-
ENCE.——Lady Jane Gray was once
asked by one of her feiends, in a tone
of surprise, how she could consent to
forego the pleasures of the chase, which
her parents were enjoying, and prefer
sitting at home reading her Bible. She
smilingly replied, “ All amusements of
that description are but a shadow of the
pleasure which I enjoy in reading this
book.”
TAI-IITIAN BIBLE CLASSES.
——The Tahitians, says a missionary in
184-», are exceedingly anxious to un-
derstand what they read. Hence they
have their Bible classes each morning,
Saturdays excepted. These they attend
soon after sunrise, before they go to
the various avocations of the day. None
think it beneath their dignity to attend
these Bible classes. At Papeete, may
be seen Queen Pomare, her mother, her
aunt, various chiefs and common people,
sitting round their teacher, reading verse
by verse alternately, when they are
interrogated on each verse as they read
it, and if necessary, suitable explana-
tions are given by the teacher. All ex-
pect to be interrogated. Queen Pomare
would think it very strange if, on ac-
count of her being a sovereign, she were
not to be interrogated, but merely read
her portion. Her Majesty thinks it
as important for her to obtain correct
views of divine truth, as it is for any
of her subjects. Many of them
come to oar houses with the Bible in
their hands, asking for explanations of
various passages which they have been
reading at home, but not being able sat-
isfactorily to understand them, they at
once apply to those who possess a more
correct and extensive knowledge of the
word of God.
(1)) THE WOMAN AND THE
SHEPHERD BOY .-—The late cele-
brated Robinson, of Cambridge, once
said, “ WVe had in our congregation a
poor aged widow, who could neither
read the Scriptures nor live without
hearing them read, so much instruction
and pleasure did she derive from the
oracles of God. She lived in a lone
place, and the family where she lodged


could not read ; but there was one more
cottage near, and in it a little boy, a
shepherd’s son, who could read; but
be, full of play, was not fond of reading
the Bible. Necessity is the mother of
invention. The good old widow deter-
mined to rise one hour sooner in the
morning in order to spin one halfpenny
more, to be expended in hiring the
shepherd’s boy to read to her every
evening a chapter, to which he readily
agreed. This little advantage made
her content in her cottage, and even
say, ‘The lines are fallen unto me in
pleasant places.’ ”
BIBLE READ W.I‘H THE
LIPS.---At an anniversary of the
French and Foreign Bible Society, held
in Paris, the secretary related the fol-
lowing interesting fact:
That interesting erson, who now
lives in avillage not ar from my house,
writes a Christian friend, had lost in her
early age the little sight which the bad
conformation of her eyes had left her
after birth. Her parents, however,
had succeeded, while she was yet a
child, to make her discern her letters
by the use of very large characters;
but for a long time past she had not
been able even to distinguish the largest
letters on the show-bills. She can
hardly now make the distinction be-
tween light and darkness. Gifted with
intelligence and skill, she rejoiced when
she learned that God had put it into the
hearts of some pious men to offer his
word to the blind; and as soon as I
was enabled to procure for her the
gospel according to Mark, issued from
your presses, she began to study it
alone with great earnestness. After a
few days she could, to my astonish-
ment, read about a page ; but she was
greatly discouraged, on account of the
slowness of her progress.
Her means are very limited, and she
is obliged to work for her living. Alone
in a small chamber, which she rents,
she attends herself to all the necessaries
of her life, and cultivates even a little
piece of ground, out of which she eon-
trives to raise some vegetables. All
this obliterates her sense of touch,
which, therefore, is far less delicate
than that of other blind, who are less
11
161
68
BIBLE.
skillful or in easier circumstances, and
hence are not obliged to have recourse
to this manual labor. One day the
idea crosses the mind of this poor girl,
that the sensibility of her fingers would
be excited were the skin taken off; and
immediately (such is her desire to read,
and chiefly to read the word of God,
which he has taught her to love,) she
takes a penknife and begins to skin off
the ends of her fingers. But, alas!
sensibility excites pain; her touch is
not improved ; and soon the sores which
succeed to the thick skin which she has
tried to scrape off, become, for our poor
sister, an insurmountable obstacle to the
pursuit of her study.
She tries yet, however, but in vain;
she must now give it up. In a moment
of despair, she takes up the book, and
pressing it against her lips, wetting it
with her tears, thus addressed it: “ Fare-
well, farewell, sweet word of my heav-
emy Father, food of my soul! I must
part with thee!” But what is her sur-
prise ! her lips, more delicate than her
fingers, have discerned the form of the
letters! she reflects, she tries, at last
she cannot doubt any more ; she has
certainly read, “ Gospel according to
Mark !” Her soul overflowing with
gratitude, pours out her thanks before
the throne of her Father in heaven. She
lies down to rest. All night she perus-
ed the holy book, and every where she
discovers, in a few moments, not only
the form of the letters, but also the
sense of the phrases.
68. “Searching the Scriptures.”
(a) FRENCH BLACKING VEN-
DER AND HIS BIBLE. -— An old
man, a seller of blacking, took his
stand for many years in a very crowd-
ed quarter of Paris. A Bible was pre-
sented to him. This poor creature was
only permitted by the police to sell his
blacking after sunset: in the day he
was occupied in preparing it; but after
standing in the street till late, to obtain
5d. or 7d. by his blacking, he devoted
many hours of every night to studying
the sacred volume, and readingit to his
wife, by the light of a glimmering lamp,
till one or two in the morning. It was

M
astonishing to those who visited him how
rapidly he proceeded, not merely us
read and comprehend, but even to com-
pare different parts of the word of God
together. In a few months, at more
than seventy years of age, he had ob-
tained such an harmonious view of the
Scriptures, as to be muen better ac
quainted with their historical contems
than his Christian instructor. When
he discovered the doctrine of justifica-
tion by faith, he was overwhelmed, and
could not believe that any one had dis-
covered it before, or, at least, so clearly
as himself.
His wife being ill, she was obliged to
go to the hospital, and her husband con-
trived to carry the Bible in a bundle
of clothes, that he might read it to her.
The priest soon heard of his having the
Bible, and attempted to frighten him
from reading it, offering him a comforta-
ble support for life, if he would give it
up, and return to confession. He re-
plied, “I should then he a hypocrite ; I
would rather die from want than be-
come one. Since I read this book, I
can no longer give up my conscience to
another.”
(12) GEORGE III. AND HIS BI-
BLE.-—It has been stated, by those who
had opportunities of acquiring correct
information, that of the few books which
the king read, the Bible was constant-
ly on the table in his closet, and the
commentary which he selected for his
private reading, was Matthew Henry’s
Exposition. A pious female servant,
whose oflice it was to arrange the
library room, has been often heard to
say, “ I love to follow my master in his
reading of the Scriptures, and to observe
the passages he turns down. I wish
every body made the Bible as much
their daily study as my good master
does?’
(0) CLUSTER OF EXAMPLES.
—The emperor Theodosius wrote out
the whole New Testament with his own
hand, and read some part of them every
day. Theodosius, the second, dedicated
a great part of the night to the study
of the Scriptures. George, prince of
Transylvania, read over the Bible
twenty-seven times. Alphonsus, king
of Arragon, read the Scriptures over,
162
FAMILIARITY WITH THE BIBLE.
es, 69

together with a large commentary,
fourteen times.
Sir Henry Wotten, after his custom-
ary public devotions, used to retire to
his study, and there spend some hours
in reading the Bible. Sir. John Hartop
in like manner, amidst his other voca-
tions, made the book of God so much
his study, that it lay before him night
and day. James Bonnel, Esq., made the
Holy Scriptures his constant and daily
study, he read them, he meditated upon
them, he prayed over them. M. De
Renty, a French nobleman, used to
read daily three chapters of the Bi-
ble, with his head uncovered, and on
his bended knees.
Lady Frances Hobart read the Psalms
over twelve times a year, the New
Testament thrice, and the other parts of
the Old Testament, once. Susannah,
pountess of Suffolk, for the last seven
years of her life, read the whole Bible
over twice annually.
Dr. Gouge used to read fifteen chap-
ters every day 5 five in the morning, five
after dinner, and five in the evening,
before going to bed. Mr. Jeremiah
Whittaker usually read all the Epistles
in the Greek Testament twice every
fortnight.
Joshua Barnes is said to have read a
small pocket Bible, which he usually
carried about with him, a hundred and
twenty times over. Mr. Roger Cotton
read the whole Bible through twelve
times a year.
The Rev. Wm. Romaine studied no-
thing but the Bible for the last thirty or
forty years of his life.
A poor prisoner, being confined in a
dark dungeon, had no light, except for
a few moments when his food was
brought him; he used to take his Bible
and read a chapter, saying, he could
find his mouth in the dark, when he
could not read.
Henry I/Villis, farmer, aged 81, devo-
ted almost every hour that could be
spared from his labor, during the course
of so long a life, to the devout and
serious perusal of the Holy Scriptures.
He had read with the most minute at-
tention, all the books of the Old and
New Testament, eight times over, and
had proceeded as far as the book of Job

Y
in his ninth reading, when his medita-
tions were terminated b death.
(d) EXAMPLE OF PRESIDENT
ADAMS.—Among men of education
and talents, those who have been known
as enemies of the Bible have, for the
most part, unhesitatingly acknowledged
their ignorance of its contents, or at
least that they were not familiar with
its pages; while the invariable testi-
mony of all who have candily studied
it, has been in favor of its claims to di-
vine authority, and to the sublimity,
purity and wisdom of its precepts.
The testimony following will be very
generally respected.
The venerable John Quincy Adams
a short time before his death stated to a.
friend, that ever since he was thirty
years old, he had been accustomed,
among the first things, to read the Bible
every morning. With few interrup-
tions, he followed the practice over half
a century.
69. Familiarity with the Bible.
(a) BLIND ALICK.—There was
living in 1832, at Stirling, in Soc‘-
land, a blind old beggar, known to all
the country round by the name of Blind
Alick, who possessed a memory of al-
most incredible strength. Alick was
blind from his childhood. He was the
son of poor parents, who could do little
for him; though, indeed, at that time,
wealth could not have done much for
the education of one laboring under his
privations. Alick was sent by his pa-
rents to a common school, to keep him
out of mischief, and in order that he
might learn something by hearing the
lessons of the other children. The only
volume then used in such establish-
ments, as a class or reading book, was
the Bible ; and it was customary for the
scholars, as they read in rotation, to
repeat not only the number of each
chapter, but the number of each verse
as it was read. By constantly hearing
these readings, young Alick soon began
to retain many of the passages of Scrip-
ture, and with them the number of the
chapter and verse where they occurred.
It is probable, that being incapacitated
by his sad privation from any useful
163
69
BIBLE.
employment, he may have remained an
unusual length of time at this school;
and that his father, as was generally
the case with the Scottish peasantry,
was a great reader of the Bible at home.
A constant attendance at church would
also contribute to the result. However
this may have been, it was observed
with astonishment that when Blind
Alick was a man, and obliged, by the
death of his parents, to gain a livelihood
by begging through the streets of his
native town of Stirling, he knew the
whole of the Bible, both Old and New
Testaments, by heart! Many persons
of education have examined Alick, and
have invairably been astonished at the
extent of his memory. You may re-
peat any passage in Scripture, and he
will tell you the chapter and verse ; or
you may tell him the chapter and verse
of any part of Scripture, and he will
repeat to you the passage, word for
word. Not long since, a gentleman,
to puzzle him, read with a slight verbal
alteration, a verse of the Bible. Alick
hesitated a moment, and then told where
it was to be found, but said it had not
been correctly delivered ; he then gave
it as it stood in the book, correcting the
slight error that had been purposely in-
troduced. The gentleman then asked
him for the ninetieth verse of the
seventh chapter of Numbers. Alick
was again puzzled for a moment, but
then said hastily, “You are fooling me,
sirs ! there is no such verse—that chap-
ter has but eighty-nine verses.” Se-
veral other experiments of the sort
were tried upon him with the same
success. He has often been questioned
the day after any particular sermon or
speech; and his examiners have in-
variably found, that had their patience
allowed, Blind Alick would have given
them the sermon or speech ever again.
(6) DAVID SAUNDERS.-—In con-
versation with Dr. Stonehouse, David
Saunders, who is well known as the
subject of Mrs. Hannah More’s beauti-
ful tract, “The Shepherd of Salisbury
Plain,” gave the following narrative of
facts concerning himself :-—Blessed be
God! through his mercy I learned to
read when I was a boy. I believe there

I have not peeped at my Bible. If we
can’t find time to read a chapter, I defy
any man to say he can’t find time to
read a verse; and a single text, well
followed and put in practice every day,
would make no bad figure at the year’s
end; 365 texts, without the loss of a
moment’s time, would make a pretty
stock, a little golden treasury, as one
may say, from new year’s day to new
year’s day; and if children were brought
up to it, they would come to look for
their text as naturally as they do for
their breakfast. I can say the greatest
part of the Bible by heart.
(0) REV. DR. MARRYAT.——This
eminent man, when but a youth, felt it
his duty to store his excellent memory
with the words of Divine revelation.
He is said to have committed to memory
the books of Job, Psalms, Proverbs,
Ecclesiastes, Isaiah, and all the lesser
prophets, as also the epistles of the New
Testament; and, that he might retain
this invaluable treasure, he stated that
it was his practice to repeat them from
memory, without a book, once a year.
(d) HON. SAMUEL HUBBARD.
—Hon. Samuel Hubbard, of Boston,
says the American Messenger, had a
remarkable acquaintance with the Bible.
He had a large Bible class of young
men; and in the conversation and
discussions which arose, would quote a
verse from memory, and add, “I think
you will find it in ,” naming the
chapter and verse; and the reference
would be found invariably correct. Such
a knowledge of the Scriptures could
have been obtained only by long and
faithful study.
(e) MISCELLANEOUS EXAM-
PLES.—Josephus testifies of his coun-
trymen, that if asked concerning the
laws of Moses, they could answer as
readily as their names.
Erasmus, speaking of Jerome, says,
“ Who ever learnt by heart the whole
Scripture, or imbibed or meditated on
it as he did ?”
Tertullian, after his conversion, was
engaged night and day in reading the
Scriptures, and got much of them by
heart.
Of one Marcus, a primitive Christian,

is no day, for the last thirty years, that I who was well instructed in the morning
164
THE BIBLE NEGLECTED OR REJECTED
70
.-—-
ai life, it is recorded, that he became so
expert in the Scriptures, when he was
out a youth, that he could repeat the
whole of the Old and New Testaments.
Of one or two others it is said, that be-
ing men of good memories, they got the
Scriptures by heart, only by hearing
them continually read by others ; they
not being able to read a single word.
It is related of Beza, one of the re-
formers, that when he was old, and
could not recollect the names of persons
and things he had heard but a few
minutes before, he could remember and
repeat the epistles of St. Paul, which he
had committed to memory when he was
young.
The celebrated Witsius was able to
recite almost any passage of Scripture,
in its proper language, together with its
context, and the criticisms of the best
commentators.
Bonaventure wrote out the Scriptures
twice, and learnt most of them by
heart.
Zuinglius wrote out St. Paul’s Epis-
tles, and committed them to memory.
Cromwell, Earl of Essex, in his
journey to and from Rome, learned all
the New Testament by heart.
Bishop Ridley thus attests his own
practice, and the happy fruit of it :.
“The walls and trees of my orchard,
could they speak, would bear witness,
that there I learned by heart almost all
the Epistles ; of which study, although
in time a greater part of it was lost, yet
the sweet savor thereof, I trust I shall
carry with me to heaven.”
Gregory Lopez, a Spanish monk in
Mexico, in the sixteenth century, com-
mitted to memory both the Old and
New Testaments, in the short space of
four years, spending four hours a day
in memorizing them.
Viscount Carteret, who was Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland in 1724, could
repeat, from memory, the whole of the
New Testament, from the first chapter
of Matthew to the end of Revelation.
It was astonishing to hear him quote
very long passages from it, with as
much accuracy as if he were reading
a book.
The Rev. Thomas Threlkeld, of
Rechdale, in Lancashire, (Eng) might

._
-.----_-.
have been justly called a living con.
cordance to the Holy Scriptures. If
three words only were mentioned, ex-
cept perhaps those words of mere con-
nexion which occur in hundreds of
passages, he could immediately, without
hesitation, assign the chapter and verse
where they could be found; and, in-
versely, upon mentioning the chapter
and verse, he could repeat the words.
This power of retention enabled him
with ease to make himself master of
many languages. Nine or ten he read
with critical skill. It is affirmed by a
friend, who lived near him, and who
was on intimate terms with him, that
he was well acquainted with every
language in which he had a Bible “I
New Testament. His powers of re-
ference and quotation were as great and
ready in the Hebrew and Greek as in
the English.
70. The Bible Neglected or Rejected.
(a) DYING worms OF SALMA.
SIUS.—-Salmasius, one of the most
consummate scholars of his time, saw
cause to exclaim bitterly against him-
self. “ Oh I” said he, “I have lost a
world of time—-time, the most precious
thing in the world! Had I but one
year more, it should be spent in perus-
ing David’s Psalms and Paul’s Epistles.
Oh, sirs,” said he, addressing those
about him, “mind the world less and
God more.”
(b) BIBLE SOLD FOR DRINK‘.-—
During my residence in India, says a
correspondent of “The Tract Maga-
zine,” I frequently visited a British
soldier who was under sentence of
death, for having, when half intoxi-
cated, wantonly shot a black man.
In some of my visits to the jail, a
number of the prisoners came and sat
down with this man to listen to a word
of exhortation. In one inst-ancel spoke
to them particularly on the desirable-
ness of studying the Bible. “Have
any of you a Bible ?” I inquired. They
answered, “No.” “Have any of you
ever possessed a Bible ?” A pause
ensued. At last the murderer broke
silence, and amidst sobs and tears con-
fessed that he once had a Bible. “ But,
165
70
BIBLE.
-u-‘r ;


‘--"‘
ohl” said he, “I sold it for drink. It
was the companion of my youth. I
brought it with me from my native
land, and I have since sold it for drink.
Oh, if I had listened to my Bible,I
should not have been here 1”
I/Vill not the lamentation of this sol-
dier be the bitter lamentation of multi-
tudes in the bottomless pit, to all eter-
nity ‘.3
(0) DYING WORDS OF SIR
THOMAS SMITH.—This eminent
man was secretary of state to Queen
Elizabeth. A short time before his
death he sent to his friends, the bishops
of Winchester and VVorcester, entreat-
ing them to draw from the word of God
the plainest and exactest way of salva-
tion; adding, that it was matter of
lamentation, that men knew not to what
end they were born into the world, till
they were ready to go out of it.
(d) DEATH OF A BIBLE BURN-
ER.-—-As the Rev. Mr. , a minis-
ter in Manchester, England, (1800,)
was going to a Sunday school, he was
met by a man, who inquired, with much
anxiety, whether he was a minister.
On being told that he was, “ O, sir,”
he replied, “ will you be so kind as to
go and see a poor man who is dying,
quite in despair?” The minister said,
“I am going to a Sunday school; will
it not do if I go and see him to-mor-
row '2” “Oh, no,” replied the man,
“he will be dead before to-morrow.”
The minister, therefore, instantly com-
plied with his request. When he en-
tered the room, the wretched man, in
the agonies of death, cried out that he
was undone for ever—that there was
no hope for him. At that moment four
of his companions came in. When he
saw them, he burst forth into a rage
of anger, and uttered such dreadful
oaths and curses, accusing them as the
authors of all his misery, that they in-
stantly left the room. seemingly in sur-
prise and terror. ‘When they were
gone, the minister began to talk to him,
and repeated some suitable passages of
Scripture. “ That book,” cried the
dying man, “ might have done for me
now, but I have burnt it I” The good
minister, knowing the power of prayer,
and that many a sinner had found for-


giveness, even at the eleventh hour
urged him to pray. Instantly he cried
out, in accents most dreadful, “I can’
pray, and I won’t pray!” He then
turned his head on his pillow, and ex-
pired I
“ Should all the forms tnat men devise,
Assault my faith with treacherous art,
I’d call them vanity and lies,
And bind the Bible to my heart.”
(6) TOO LATE TO READ.-A
person in Birmingham, who lived in
the neglect of the worship of God, and
of reading the Bible, was, on a Lord’s
day, sitting at the fire with his family.
He said he thought he would read a
chapter in the Bible, not having read
one for a long time. But, alas I he was
disappointed; it was too late; for, in
the very act of reaching it from the
shelf, he sunk down and immediately
ex ired.
(f) “I CANNOT PRAY.”——A
society of infidels were in the practice
of meeting together on Sabbath morn-
ings, to ridicule religion, and to en-
courage each other in all manner of
wickedness. At length they proceeded
so far as to meet, by previous agree-
ment, to burn their Bibles! They had
lately initiated a young man into their
awful mysteries, who had been brought
up under great religious advantages,
and seemed to promise well; but on
that occasion, he proceeded the length
of his companions, threw his Bible into
the flames, and promised, with them,
never to go into a place of religious
worship again. He was soon after-
wards taken ill. He was visited by a
serious man, who found him in the
agonies of a distressed mind. He spoke
to him of his past ways. The poor
creature said, “ lt all did well enough
while in health, and while I could keep
off the thoughts of death;” but when
the Redeemer was mentioned to him,
he hastily exclaimed, “ What’s the use
of talking to me about mercy '2” When
urged to look to Christ, he said, “ I tell
you it’s of no use now; ’tis too late,
’tis too late. Oncel could pray, but
now I can’t.” He frequently repeated,
“I cannot pray; Iwill not pray.” He
shortly afterwards expired, uttering the
most dreadful imprecations €lg€)\r1\v' some
166
a-
ZEAL IN CIRCULATIN G THE BIBLE.
U-—._-_-1_— -.-_-
71
of his companions in iniquity who came
to see him, and now and then saying,
“ My Bible ! Oh, the Bible!”
71. Zeal in Circulating the Bible.
(a) BOYLE’S BENEVOLENCE.
—-The Hon. R. Boyle was the seventh
son of Richard, earl of Cork. His
learning, piety, and beneficence, justly
placed him among the most eminent
men of the age in which he lived. So
profound Was his veneration for the
Deity, that he never mentioned the
Divine name without a visible pause
in his discourse. He founded a lecture
at St. Paul’s for the defence of the
Christian religion against infidels; and
was at the expense of the translation
and printing of 500 copies of the four
Gospels and Acts of the Apostles into
the Malayan language. He also nobly
rewarded Dr. E. Pocock, for the trans-
lation of Grotius, “On the Truth of the
Christian Religion,” into Arabic; of
which he printed an edition in quarto,
and caused it to be dispersed in the
countries where it could be understood.
He gave, during his life, £300 to aid
the propagation of the gospel, and for
translating, printing, and circulating the
Scriptures among the Arnerican Indians
in their vernacular dialects. He caus-
ed a font of type to be cast, and the Irish
New Testament to be reprinted at his
own expense; and afterwards contri-
buted £700 to print an edition of the
whole Bible in the same language, be-
sides £100 towards an edition for the
Highlands of Scotland. He also con-
tributed £60 towards an edition of the
Turkish New Testament ; and liberally
aided the printing of the Scriptures in
the Welsh language. He died in 1691.
(I2) TI-IE USEFUL FARMER.—-In
R Co. says a colporteur, in 1844,
is a plain farmer, of some property,
who, when he embraced Christ, six
or seven years since, 1nade a willing
surrender of all to him. Since that
time his life has been a series of efforts
at home and abroad for the advance-
ment of Christ’s kingdom. Much of his
time in winter is spent in destitute
neighborhoods in his own and adjoining
towns, in labors to bring sinners to

Christ. When a Bible Depository was
established, he undertook to supply the
destitute in his region; and let it be
sounded in the ears of sluggish Chris-
tans, that this faithful servant of his
Master has purchased at his own er-
pense, and distributed with his own hand,
between 500 and 600 Bibles and Testa-
ments within the Zast two or three years.
Many precious souls have been led to
Christ by his eflbrts. Being a large
farmer, he has many Romanists in his
employ, over whom he exerts a strong
influence. “Treat them kindly and
give them Bibles and good books.’ ’ is
his motto. As he came into church,
he brcught with him three or four of
this class and gave them the best seats.
On one occasion a Frenchman, who
had been in his service, wished to be
hired again, giving as a reason, that
then he could read his Bible.
(0) WHOLE CITY VISITED BY
ONE WOMAN.—An intelligent, in.
dustrious, and kind-hearted woman in
Russia became a Christian. Her la-
bors were transformed into Christian
labors; and were followed up with an
ardor and perseverance seldom ex-
ceeded. In her visits to the poor, she
now carried books and tracts, as well
as food and raiment ; and when she
found persons unable to read, which
was frequently the case, she made it a
point to read to them, and to explain
what they could not understand.
Her prompt assistance was, in a
great measure, instrumental to a zeal-
ous agent becoming extensively en-
gaged in the circulation of the Holy
Scriptures. She gave him two of the
first Finnish Bibles that ever passed
through his hands; and when there
was a great demand for the sacred
volume in that language, she actually
sold her watch, in order to furnish one
hundred Bibles to the poor, at reduced
prices. This was a noble effort in the
cause of God: it augured well as to
future usefulness ; and the expectations
which were excited by it were more
than realized. She took the whole city
of St. Petersburgh for her sphere, and
perambulated it alone; and succeeded
beyond all expectations. In the course
of a few months, she sold more than
167
‘F2
BIBLE.
one thousand five hundred Bibles, aid
Testaments, and Psalters; and in tl is
blessed work she continued persevering-
ly to engage. Hundreds derived advan-
tage from her visits.
7%. Miscellaneous
(a) THE SHIPWRECKED CREW.
-A narrative was some time ago pub-
lished in London, of a voyage to the
South Seas, in which the author says:
The most valuable thing we preserv-
ed from the wreck was our Bible; and
I must here state, that some portion of
each day Was set apart for reading it;
and by nothing, perhaps, could I better
exemplify its benefits, even in a tempo-
ral point of view, than by stating, that
to its influence we were indebted for an
almost unparalleled unanimity during
the whole time we were on the island.
The welfare of the community was the
individual endeavor of all; and what-
ever was recommended by the most
experienced, was entirely acquiesced in
by the rest. If ever a difference of
opinion asose, a majority of voices
decided the m‘easure, and individual
wishes always gave way to the propo-
sals that obtained the largest suffrages.
Peace reigned among us ; for the pre-
cepts of Him who introduced peace and
good will towards men, were daily in-
culcated and practised. If ever there
was a fulfillment of the promise, as
contained in Eccles. 11: 1, “Cast thy
bread upon the waters, for thou shalt
find it after many days,” this simple
fact must bring it home to every con-
tributor to that valuable institution, the
Seamen’s Bible Society; for it was
fulfilled almost to the very letter. The
Bible, when bestowed, was thrown by
unheeded, it traversed wide oceans, was
scattered with the wreck of our frail
bark, and was, in deed and in truth,
found upon the waters after many days ;
and not only was the mere book found,
but its value was also discovered, and
its blessings, so long neglected, were
now made apparent to us. Cast away
an an island, in the midst of an im-
mense ocean, without a hope of deliv-
erance, lost to all human sympathy,
mourned over as dead by our kindred,

--- --us -¢-Q e
in this invaluable book we found the
herald of hope, the balm of consolation,
the dispenser of peace, the soother of
our sorrows, and a pilot to the harbor
of eternal happiness.
(Z1) THE HlNDOO’S REPROOF.—-
Lukewarmness, or want of zeal, on the
part of Christians, in commuriicating
the precious oracles of God to those
who are sitting in darkness, is not over-
looked by the heathen. “A nayr, of
Travancore,” says the Rev. Mr.
Thompson, “reproached one of our
Zillah judges, on the coast, for not giv-
ing to the people our Scriptures. The
judge had been reading to him some
passages from the Malayalim Gospel;
when, on his stopping, the man, full of
admiration at its divine sentiments,
rather abruptly addressed him : ‘ What,
Sir, are these indeed your shasters?
Why, why have you not given them to
us? We have not kept back ours
from you ; why have you not given us
yours '2’ ” VVell might he say this, if
his car had ever caught the sound of
those words, “ Freely ye have received,
freely give ;” or if he had ever heard the
command, “Go ye into all the world,
and preach the gospel to every creature.”
(0) THE BIBLE AND CRIME.--
When a gentleman presented a Bible to
a prisoner under sentence of death, he
exclaimed, “Oh, sir, if I had had this
book, and studied it, I should never
have committed the crime of which I
am convicted.” So it is said of a na-
tive Irishman, when he read for the
first time in his life, a New Testament
which a gentleman had put into his
hands, he said, “If I believe this, it is
impossible for me to remain a rebel.”
(cl) AN OBJECTION APTLYAN.
SWERED.— A lady of suspected
chastity, and who was tinctured with
infidel principles, conversing with a
minister of the Gospel, objected to the
Scriptures on account of their obscurity
and the great difficulty of understand-
ing them. The minister wisely and
smartly replied, “ W/ty, madam, what
can be easier to understand than the
seventh commandment, ‘Thou shalt not
commit adultery ’!’”
(e) INFIDELITY PREVENTED.
--A mother of a family was married
168
BLASPHEMY.
73
to an infidel Vt he made jt st of religion
in the presence of his own children ; yet
she succeeded in bringing them all up
in the fear of the Lord. She was one
day asked how she had preserved them
"rom the influence of a father, whose
sentiments were so openly opposed to
her own.- This was her answer. Be-
cause, to the authority of a father I did
not oppose the authority of a mother,
but of God. From their earliest years,
my children have always seen my Bi-

ble upon my table. This holy Book
has constituted the whole of their reli-
gious instruction. Iwas silent that I
might allow it to speak. Did they
propose a question’.2 did they commit
any fault’.Z did they perform any good
action? I opened the Bible, and the Bi-
ble answered, reproved, or encouraged
them. The constant reading of the
Scriptures has alone wrought the pro-
digy that surprises you.
73. BLASPHEMY
(a) THE BLASPHEMER DYING
A MANIAC.——Among the active fol-
lowers of Frances VVright, who were ac-
customed to meet in Concert Hall, in
the city of New-York, was a Mr. B-1,
remarkable for his deformity, the mus-
cles of one of his legs being contracted.
He was a man of more than ordinary
intelligence, and frequently participated
in the public debates, which were of
frequent occurrence at the hall. This
man, in one of his harangues, had the
impudence to defy the Almighty’s power,
and dared him in the most blasphemous
manner to seal his lips. Suddenly,
thereafter, he became confused--his
tongue faltered-—his language became
incoherent, and his hearers becoming
disgusted, manifested their displeasure,
and finishing his address with great dif-
ficulty, he sat down, amidst a shower of
hisses. A short time subsequent to this
event, he died a raving maniac ; and his
wife, who was a talented skeptic, re-
nounced Infidelity, and united with the
church.
(b) CHARGING GOD WITH TY-
RAN N Y.——About three weeks ago,
says the London Methodist Magazine,
D. H., of Bowling-street, VVestminster,
was deprived of a brother and a child,
by sudden death; both being taken into
eternity within a short period. Previous
to their death, he had been accustomed
to attend a place of Divine worship ; but
was sometimes guilty of drunkenness,
and while in that state, would frequently

rail against the moral gor ernment of
God. At the death of his brother and
child, satanic frenzy seemed to take
possession of him. I/Vith the most hor-
rid imprecations, too bad to be repeated,
he would blaspheme the eternal Jeho-
vah, calling him cruel, unmerciful, &c.
In this way he proceeded until last Sa-
turday night, (August 15th, 1823,)
when intoxicated with rage against the
Most High, while getting his supper, he
again began to curse and blaspheme
most awfully ;—calling the Almighty a
vindictive tyrant, &c. While thus em-
ployed, he was summoned to give an
account of the deeds done in the body!
His wife perceiving a sudden cessation
of his imprecations, looked round, and
saw that he was in the agonies of death.
Medical assistance was immediately pro-
cured; but the spirit had taken its
flight.
(c) THE FOUR BLASPHEMERS.
——In one of the western states there
lived four young men, in their exterior,
gentlemanly. Two were lawyers, one
was a physician, the other a merchant
-—all avowed infidels.
On a certain occasion, they assembled
with some of their associates, agreeably
to a previous notice, and held a mock-
meeting, where they administered to
some of their party the ordinance of
baptism; then the Lord’s supper. They
were exceedingly bitter against Christ
and his followers.
A short time afterwards one of the
169
‘73
BLASPHEMY.
men was taken suddenly ill, and soon
became deranged and raged like a ma-
niac. In this state he continued until
death closed his earthly existence. The
distorted features of the poor man seem-
ed to fill every beholder with terror and
dismay.
Very soon after this, another was
taken and died in the same way, ex-
hibiting the same terrific appearance;
and then another—all apparently visit-
ed with the same calamity, sharing the
same‘ fate, which seemed to fill the
whole neighborhood with alarm. And
it is supposed that the last has also gone
to give his account for his contempt of
the gospel and the ordinances of Christ ;
for the last intelligence left him in a
condition somewhat similar to those who
had just gone before him, apparently
on the verge of death.
These facts we have from a man who
knew the men, gave us their names, the
place of their residence, and was him-
self at the time a fellow-citizen with
them. “ Surely there is a God, nor is
religion vain.”
(at THE BLASPHEMOUS SOL-
DIE S.—-On the 4th of August, 1796,
between 11 and 12 o’clock in the fore-
noon, a violent storm of thunder and
lightning arose in the district of Mont-
pelier. In a field, about a mile from
the town, a body of 900 French soldiers
lay encamped. At a small distance
from the camp, five of the soldiers were
assisting a husbandman in gathering
in the produce of the earth for hire.
When the storm came on, the party
took refuge under a tree, where the five
soldiers began to blaspheme God for in-
terrupting them in their labor; and one
of them, in the madness of his presump-
tion, took up his firelock, which he hap-
pened to have by him, and pointing it
toward the skies, said that he would fire
a bullet at him who sent the storm!
Seized with horror at this blasphemous de-
claration, the husbandman made all the
haste he could to quit their company ;
but scarcely had he got to the distance
of ten paces from the tree, when a flash
of lightning struck four of the soldiers
dead, and wounded the fifth in such a
manne“, that his life was despaired of.

w
(e) A DREADFUL FARCE.~
About the year 1793, an awful incident
occurred at Salem, in the state of New
Jersey. There had been a revival of
religion, and the pious part of the corr
munity had been disturbed with riots
and mobs; but, on making application
to the civil magistrate, these tumults
had been effectually suppressed. The
opposers of religion turned their atten-
tion to a new method of entertainment;
acting in a farcical way at religious
meetings, pretending to speak of their
experiences, to exhort, etc., in order to
amuse one another in a profane theatri-
cal manner. One night a young actress
stood upon one of the benches, pretend-
ing to speak of her experience; and,
with mock solemnity, cried out, “ Glory
to God, I have found peace, I am sancti-
fied, I am now fit to die.” Scarcely
had the unhappy girl uttered these words,
before she actually dropped senseless
upon the floor, and was taken up a
corpse. Struck with this awful visita-
tion, the auditors were instantly, seized
with inexpressible terror, and every
face was covered with consternation
and dismay.
THE TWISTED NECK.—
At a general muster in one of the
‘Western States, a wicked man being
addressed on the subject of religion was
filled with rage, and uttered the horrid
declaration that if Jesus of Nazareth
was there, he would wring his neck!
Suddenly a violent spasm seized the
neck of the blasphemer, twisted it round,
rolled his eyes nearly out of their sock-
ets, and left him in this frightful position,
a living monument of outraged omnipo-
tence. “ This fact,” says a writer in the
Vt. Chronicle, “ was stated at a public
meeting in this vicinity lately by a re-
spectable gentleman of the bar from
Ohio.” The meeting referred to,
took place in Lebanon, Ohio, and the
lawyer referred to was Mr. Latham.
His stateme its having been called in
question, Mr. Latham procured a full
corroboration of them from the Rev.
Ahab Jinks, of Delaware, Ohio, who re.
sided in the immediate vicinity where
the circumstance took place. He nar-
rates all the details of the matter more
170
BLASPHEM Y.
Bully, and cites other authorities in the
neighborhood where he lives.
(g) THE SAILOR’S DEATH.-
Some years ago, says a writer in an
American periodical, a seaman who ac-
customed himself to the most horrid im-
precations, being on board at sea, took
with him a bucket and ascended the
shrouds. Proceeding along the yards,
“ Now,” said he, to his shipmates who
stood below, “ if Jesus was before me,
I would heave this bucket at his head I”
No sooner dropped these horrid words
from his lips, than he fell with tremen-
dous force upon the deck, and was im-
mediately taken up a lifeless corpse.
The surviving crew were so impressed
by the event. that they were never heard
to utter an oath during the remainder
of the voyage. This account I have
from an eyewitness. May it serve as
a. solemn warning against the practice
of taking God’s holy name in vain.
(it) THE BLASPHEMER FRO-
ZEN TO DEATH.—-It was near the
close of one of those storms that deposit
a great volume of snow upon the earth,
that a middle-aged man, in one of the
southern counties of Vermont, seated
himself at a large fire in a log-house.
He was crossing the Green Mountains
from the western to the eastern side ';
he had stopped at the only dwelling of
man in a distance of more than twenty
miles, being the width of the parallel
ranges of gloomy mountains; he was
determined to reach his dwelling on the
eastern side that day. In reply to a
kind invitation to tarry in the house,
and not dare the horrors of the increas-
ing storm, he declared that he would
go, and that the Almighty was not able
to prevent him.
His words were heard above the howl-
ing of the tempest. He travelled from
the mountain valley where he had
rested, over one ridge, and one more in-
tervened between him and his family.
The labor of walking in that deep snow
must have been great, as its depth be-
came near the stature of a man; yet
he kept on and arrived within a few
yards of the last summit, from whence
he could have looked down upon
his dwelling. He was near a large
tree, partly supported by it; trunk ; his

73
body bent forward, and his ghastly in;
tent features told the stubbornness of his
purpose to overpass that little eminence.
But the Almighty had prevented him--
the currents of his blood were frozen.
For more than thirty years that tree
stood by the solitary road, scarred to
the branches with names, letters, and
hieroglyphics of death, to warn the
traveller that he trod over a spot of fear-
ful interest.
(2') I DISPOSE AS WELL AS
PROPOSE.—-I/Vhen Bonaparte was
about to invade Russia, a person who
had endeavored to dissuade him from
his purpose, finding he could not pre-
vail, quoted to him the provero, “Man
proposes, but God disposes ;” to which
he indignantly replied, “I dispose as
well as propose.” A Christian iady
on hearing the impious boast, remarked,
“I set that down as the turning-point
of Bonaparte’s fortunes. God will not
suffer a creature, with impunity, thus
to usurp his prerogative.” It happened
to Bonaparte just as the lady predicted.
His invasion of Russia was the com-
mencement of his fall.
( THE FATAL CRO\VN.—-One
of the most singular and remarkable
deaths of the violent opposers of Christi-
anity occurred at a meeting of the Deis-
tical Society, instituted by Blind Palmer,
in the city of New-York. The society
had been in a flourishing condition for
some time, and its test of merit new con-
sisted in transcendental blasphemy, and
he who could excel in this fearful quali-
fication, was entitled to the presidential
chair. On a certain occasion, one of
their members, a hoary-headed old sinner,
had exceeded the rest, and was conduct-
ed to his dear-earned seat of distinction ;
and as his companions in guilt were on
the point of placing on his head the co-
ronal of impiety, he fell lifeless on the
floor! The society, astounded at the
event, disbanded, and the author of this
anecdote, himself a member, and an
eye-witness, renounced infidelity and
embraced Christianity. The above fact
is so well authenticated, that there can
be no reasonable doubt of its substantial
correctness.
(Ir) THE BLASPHEMOUS SAIL.
OR.—-The following fact took place in
171
73
BLASPHEMY.
-4
the spring of 1812, at a public house in
Rochester, in the county of Kent, (Eng)
Two wicked sailors meeting at a
tavern one day, began to curse and
swear, when the more violent of the
two, in a tempest of passion, swore that
he would kill the other. The awe-
struck landlord, raising his voice, said
to the sailor who had made the threat,
“ What if God of asudden should strike
you dead, and sink you into hell with
his curse upon you !” The sailor re-
plied with a terrible oath, “The Al-
mighty cannot do that—give me the
tankard of beer—if God can do it, I’ll
go to hell before I drink it up.’ ’
With an awful oath he seized the tank-
ard, but instantly fell down and expired !
All blasphemers are not thus suddenly
and singularly cut off; but there is a
point in every blasphemer’s progress in
sin, beyond which the forbearance of
God cannot be extended to him longer.
And how often does God say to such
men, in the midst of their awful con-
tempt and mockery of his power, “ Thus
far shalt thou go and no farther.” I/Ve
do not suppose that any miracle is
wrought in such cases ; but God, work-
ing in and through natural laws, so of-
ten causes sudden and awful deaths in
immediate connection with bold and
impious blasphemy, that we are justifi-
ed in regarding such a death as a judg-
ment of God, as sent in consequence of
the blasphemy.
We mean to say as much as this, that
in such cases the sinner’s blasphemy
and death are so far related to each
other, that if the one had not been com-
mitted, the other had not occurred; if
he had not blasphemed as he did, he had
not died as he did.
(Z) BLASPHEMER DESTROYED.
-—A writer, personally knowing to the
event, states that a party of ladies set
out on donkeys from Margate, (Eng.)
to visit a place a few miles distant.
The owner of the animals accompanied
them, to assist in urging them forward.
When about half way, the party were
obliged to have recourse to a farm-yard
for shelter, in consequence of a violent
storm of thunder and lightning. They
were detained some time, and the cwner
becoming displeased, resolved to quit

the party and return with the animals
to Margate. As he left the party, he
exclaimed, “Damn all the lightning!
It shall never prevent me going home !’
The expression hardly escaped from his
quivering lips, when he was in a mo
ment struck dead on the spot!
(122) THE NEWBURG INFIDELS.
—During the prevalence of infidelity
that occurred in this country after the
reign of terror in France, Newburg,
New-York, was remarkable for its
Deism. Through the influence of
“Blind Palmer,” there was formed a
Druidical Society, so called, which had
a high priest, and met at stated times to
uproot and destroy all true religion.
They descended sometimes to acts the
most impious and blasphemous. Thus,
for instance, at one of their meetings in
N ewburg, they burned the Bible, bap-
tized a cat, partook of the sacrament,
and one of the number, approved by
the rest, administered it to a dog. N ow
mark the retributive judgments of God
towards these blasphemers, which at
once commenced falling upon them.
On the evening of that very day, he
who had administered this mock sacra-
ment, was attacked with a violent in-
flammatory disease; his inflamed eye-
balls were protruded from their sockets ;
his'tongue was swollen; and he died
before morning in great bodily and
mental agony. Dr. H., another of the
same party, was found dead in his bed
the next morning. D. D., a printer, who
was present, three days after fell in a
fit, and died immediately; and three
others were drowned in a few days. In
short, within five years from the time
the Druidical Society was organized,
it is a remarkable fact, that all the
original members died in some strange
or unnatural manner. There were
thirty-six of them ; and these were the
actors in the horrid farce described
above. Two were starved to death;
seven drowned; eight shot; five com-
mitted suicide; seven died on the gal-
lows; one was frozen to death; and
three died “ accidentally.”
Of the foregoing statements there is
good proof. They have been certified be-
fore Justices of peace in N ew-York ; and
again and again published to the world.
172
BOOKS, RELIGIOUS— USEFULNESS OF.
74
BOOKS REL1GIOUS—USEFULNESS DF.
74. In Effeeting C011V6l‘Si/HIS.
(a) MR. VENN AND THE H(“.
TEL YVAITER.—-A year or two after
the publication of his COMPLETE DUTY or
MAN, that excellent minister, the Rev.
Henry Venn being once at an inn, hav-
ing held a religious conversation with
a waiter, took down his address, which
he was very anxious to give, and sent
him, upon his return to London, a copy
of THE COMPLETE DUTY or MAN.
Many years after this, a friend travel-
ling to see him, brought him a letter
from this very person, who then kept a
large inn, in the West of England, hav-
ing married his former master’s daugh-
ter. His friend told him, that coming
to that inn on a Saturday night, and pro-
posing to stay there till Monday, he had
inquired of the servants, whether any of
them went on Sunday to a place of wor-
ship. To his surprise, he found that
they were all required to go, at least
one part of the day, and that the master,
with his wife and family, never failed to
attend public worship, and to have fami-
ly prayer, at which all the servants,
who were not particularly engaged,
were required to be present. Surprised
by this uncommon appearance of reli-
gion, where he little expected to find it,
he inquired of the landlord by what
means he possessed such a sense of the
importance of religion. He was told
that it was owing to a work which a
gentleman had sent to him several years
ago, after speaking to him, in a manner
which deeply interested him, of the
goodness of God in giving his Son to die
for our sins. On desiring to see the
book, he found it to be THE COMPLETE
DUTY OF MAN. Rejoiced to find that
his guest was going to pay a visit to
Mr. Venn, the innkeeper immediately
wrote a letter, expressing, in the fulness
of his heart, the obligations which he
owed to Mr. Venn, and the happiness
which himself, his wife, and many of
his children and domestics enjoyed
daily, in consequence of the conver-
nation which Mr. Venn had had with
\
him, and the book which he had sent
him; and which he had read again and
again, with increasing comfort and ad-
vantage.
(Z2) PlKE’S “PERSUASIVES.”—-
An elder of a church in Kentucky, on
being asked the reason of his deep in-
terest in the volume circulation, replied,
that he was presented with a copy of
Pike’s “ Persuasfves to Early Piety”
eight years since, by the Rev. Mr. Rice,
the reading of which God blessed ‘ a his
conversion. He then loaned it to a
young man, Mr. M , who told him
three months after, on his death-bed,
that it had led him to the Savior, who
was now by grace supporting him in
his dying moments. The book was
again loaned to another young man,
who was persuaded by it to come to
Christ in the morning of life, and pub-
licly profess him—giving so much pro-
mise by his piety of eminent usefulness,
that an individual proposed giving him
a liberal education. The same book
Was placed in the hands of a fourth
individual, who was a school teacher.
After some weeks, the elder, as was his
custom, made some inquiries respecting
the contents of the book; when the
teacher broke out with the exclamation
that he had been at war with the book,
but that now he had submitted his heart
to the Savior, and desired to connect
himself with the people of God.
(0) THE BOY AND THE SAINTS’
REST.—-A gentleman in the South
was accustomed for years to carry
with him volumes and tracts for distri-
bution. Meeting a little boy one day,
he told him he could not let him pass
without giving him something, though
he had nothing suited to his youth.
Handing him the Saints’ Rest, he said,
“This may do you good when you grow
up to be a man.” He carried it home
and gave it to his mother, saying, “ Mr.
P says it may do me good when I
get to be a man.” He lived to have a
family. On losing a member of his
family by death, he went to his mother
and asked for the book, and read it,

173
74
BOOKS, RELIGIOUS-—USEFULNESS OF
but without being specially interested.
Some time after he was more deeply
affected by the death of his wife and
child. He called for the book again,
read it with seriousness, and it was the
means of leading him to the Savior.
(d) THE VVELL SPENT DOL-
LAR.—-At a public trac. meeting in
the Tabernacle, N ew-York City, when
several of the Society’s Agents received
their instructions, Rev. Mr. S , who
was about to leave for the West, de-
scribed a destitute family in the Ken-
tucky mountains in a graphic manner,
and appealed for aid to send to that and
similar families such books as might
instruct them in the way of life, and
stated that one dollar would supply eight
such families with Baxter’s Call. A
Methodist girl, who earned her bread
by her daily toil, gave one dollar after
the meeting, and requested that Rev.
Mr. S. would take the books to those
poor families.
On reaching Kentucky, Rev. Mr. S.
joined a colporteur for a few days’ ex-
cursion, and took eight copies of the
Call, writing a sentence in each stating
the circumstances of the gift. One of
the first abodes at which they called,
was that of an aged widow, who had
neglected the means of grace, and was
surrounded by an irreligious family.
It was with difficulty that they gained
admittance, and more difficult to secure
attention to the object of their mission.
At last it was agreed that Baxter’s Call
should be left, and one of the sons was
to read it to his mother. In a few
weeks that widow was found in the
house of God, a believing penitent;
connected herself with the church;
adorned her profession, and a few
months after died in peace.
The letter containing these facts, and
others of interest relative to the other
seven books, was given by one of the
secretaries to the girl who had contri-
buted the dollar, and rejoiced her heart
more than the expenditure of thousands
squandered by the wealthy for their
worldly gratification. ‘
(e) PIKE’S PERSUASIVES AND
NOVEL.—-I called one -afternoon at
the house of Mr. T , writes Mr.
S . a colporteur, to leave a library




until my return from another part of
the State; and remarked to Miss
T as I left the house, that I hoped
she would avail herself of the op-
portunity of perusing the books. I am
very much obliged, sir, for your kino
offer, said she, and would do so with
pleasure if I thought they would prove
as interesting as the -16W novels I have
just received, at the same time proffer-
ing me a favorite one. Iselected Pike’;
Persuasiees to Early Piety, and request-
ed her to promise on the honor of a
Kentuckian, for my sake and that of
her pious mother, to read it faithfully
through, and the book should be her
own. She replied that to he: such kind
of reading was so dry and ir.sini.rl, that
she was fearful she could not accom-
plish the task, and should thus cause
me to distrust Kentucky veracity. With
a little persuasion from the mother,
however, she complied with our request.
You may judge what were my feel-
ings, when, on my return, I heard the
young lady had united herself with the
church ; stating that the book, and the
circumstances by which it came into
her possession, were the means, in the
hands of God, of her conviction and con-
version. She often laid it aside and
took up a novel to wear off the impres-
sion-—-but her pledge must be redeemed.
O that cruel promise ! She read on——-
the Spirit of God accompanied the pe-
rusal of the book ; her convictions deep-
ened ; and ere she finished reading the
volume she was led to the foot of the
cross, and enabled to make the lan-
uage of the last prayer her own.
DODDRIDGE AND THE
NOVEL READER.—-At a meeting of
the United Brethren, at E , last
evening, says a colpdrteur, a clergy-'
man stated that a teacher in S ,
Ohio, received a copy of the Rise and
Progress, and being aware of the na-
ture of the work, laid it aside till he had
finished some novels. Having done this,
he took up Doddridge one Sabbath
morning, and read with his usual haste
some of the first chapters, till he came
to the one on self-dedication, when he
was arrested, and was enabled, he trusts,
truly to devote himself to the Lord. He
is now a Missionar~y in Asia.



174
IN PROMOTING CONVERSIONS
74
(g) DODDRIDGE AND SHAK-
SPEA ttE.—Mr. P , a valuable of-
ficer in one of the churches in Boston,
stated at a meeting of the church to con-
sider the expediency of establishing a
concert of reading, that he came to that
city in 1817, when a lad, and entered
a store as clerk, where there were two
partners. He had been religiously edu-
cated, and had a pious praying mother.
In the desk of one of the partners he
found a cop; of Shakspeare’s works, and
in that of the other the Rise and Pro-
gress. He read several of the plays of
the former, and had thereby a desire to
see them acted. He had often left the
store at night, and paced back and forth
in front of the Federal-street theatre,
listening to the clapping and shouts of
the multitude, and longed to enter; but
his conscience and the thoughts of his
mother’s prayers deterred him. On
other occasions he would read Dodd-
ridge, and would be led by that to the
Park-street prayer-meeting.
“ Thus, for three months,” said he,
“ my mind was swayed first by the influ-
ence of one book, and then of the other,
and my soul balanced between heaven
and hell, till at last the question was de-
cided. Doddridge’s Rise and Progress
was the har which God threw across my
pathway to perdition ,' and all that I am
and hope to be, I owe to the Divine
blessing on that precious book !”
(h) THE GOLIATH OF GERMAN
INFIDELITY.——-A German, Rev. Mr.
N , writing from the West, to an
officer of the American Tract Society,
communicates the following interesting
facts :—
“You will recollect the Sabbath when
you heard me preach to the infidels in
street, and that soon after I recom-
mended to your Board the republication
of Bogue’s Essay in German. Dur-
ing my stay in N ew-York I had an in-
terview with that leader of the German
infidels, Dr. F My host kindly
invited him to dine with me. After
dinner I had a conversation with him
for nearly two hours, in the course of
which I showed him the copy of Bogue
you gave me, and remarked :—“ This
little book contains arguments for the
Divine authority of the New Testament,


which the most unlearned can com-
prehend, and which in all probability,
with all your learning, you have never
read. O what a pity! If you would
just read this little volume with a sin-
cere desire to know the truth, all your
infidelity would soon come to an end !”
He affected to smile and laid the book
on the mantelpiece; but after he had
left me and shut the door, the good
Spirit seems to have followed him and
brought him back—he asked me if I
would not lend him Bogue’s Essay. I
told him that I would not only lend it to
him, but would ask him to keep it, it
remembrance of our conversation.
You can imagine my feelings when a
few weeks ago I read Dr. F ’s
public recantation of inhdelity, in which
he mentions among other means by
which it pleased the Lord to convince
him of his evil way, the reading of your
Bogue! Surely this is great encou-
ragement-—the Goliath of German infi-
delity on his knees, a weeping penitent.
What a powerful besom may your
Bogue prove in the hand of the Lord,
to sweep from this land the mass of in-
fidelity which is constantly imported
from Germany! .
(2') BAXTER AND BALLOU.—-
A man between sixty and seventy years
of age, “once lived,” as he says, “ in
a place where the society was good—-
too good for me. I wanted to get away
from it. Accordingly I moved to ,
the worst place I could hear of, where
I could practice all manner of wicked-
ness without restraint. IVhile thus
revelling in sensuality, Ba.rfer’s Call
fell into my hands. I took it up with
one of Ballou’s works, (for I was a
Universalist,) to compare each with the
Bible; saw the fallacy of the latter;
was powerfully impressed with the truth
as it appeared in the former ; and was
brought as I humbly trust to the foot of
the cross, to accept of the offers of
mercy, as they are freely made in the
Gospel to the chief of sinners.”
(I) THE LAD AND THE
SAINTS’ REST.—Rev. Mr. VVilley,
of New Hampshire, at a public meeting
in Park-street church, Boston, gave the
history of a lad in a retired part of the
country, to whom a pious lady, afier

175
75
BOOKS, RELIGIOUS--USEFULNESS OF

serious conversation, gave ‘the Saints’
Rest.’ He read it, became deeply in-
terested, and carried it to the barn
where he was employed, weeping over
its pages, and over his hardness of
heart, and praying to be saved from the
miseries of the lost. But these impres-
sions died away ; and some years after,
on the Sabbath, in Boston, he wandered
into the very church where the meeting
was then assembled, where, under the
appeals of the venerable Griflin, all his
former solicitude for his undying soul
was revived, and he was led imme-
diately to apply to a clergyman of the
city for the ‘Saints’ Rest.’ After con-
siderable trouble “ the long sought
volume (said Mr. was found and
read, —-portions of it time after time
during the week. On the Sabbath this
youth was seen in this house a weeping
stranger, sometimes in one part of it and
sometimes in another. It was in that
gallery, referring to the west gallery, as
he has since ventured to hope, he pour-
ed out his soul unto God, and that light
began to dawn upon him which has
since been as the rising light of day.
This youth was the eldest in a family
of ten, children, all of whom, together
with both parents, have since been brought
to hope in the mercy of God, and to unite
with his people; and of the five sons
four are in the Christian ministry.
76. In Promoting Itcvivals.
(a) LIFE OF J . B. TAYLOR.--A
young business man, a professor of re-
ligion, on leaving Detroit in 1841 for
the West, procured a copy of the “ Life
of J. B. Taylor.” In pursuing his
business his lot was cast in a very
wicked community. At length the at-
tention of this young man was called to
the book he had purchased. He read
it, and was excited to make higher at-
tainments in religion. He attended
prayer and conference meetings, and
there gave expression to his thoughts
and feelings. He did the same in
private as opportunity offered. God
blessed his labors. The result of the
revival which was thus originated and
carried forward, was the conversion of
some fifty individuals, who became

_--
members of the visible church. That
young man became a preacher of the
ospel to aPresbyterian church.
(b) ALLEINE’S ALARM IN COL-
LEGE.-—Related by the Rev. Dr. Hill,
of I’a.—-Said the venerable father, “I
have abundant cause for interest in this
plan of circulating good and pious books.
I lost my sainted mother w hen I was a
youth, but not before the instructions
which I received from her beloved lips
had made a deep impression upon my
mind; an impression which I carried
with me into a college, (Hampder
Sidney,) where there was not then one
pious student. There I often reflected,
when surrounded by young men who
scoffed at religion, upon the instructions
of my mother, and my conscience was
frequently sore distressed. I had no
Bible, and dreaded getting one, lest it
should be found in my possession. At
last I could stand it no longer, and
therefore requested a particular friend,
a youth whose parents lived near, and
who often went home, to ask his pious
and excellent mother to send me some
religious books. She sent me Al/ez'ne’s
Alarm, an old black book, which looked
as if it might have been handled by
successive generations for one hundred
years. When I got it, I locked my
room and lay on my bed reading it,
when a student knocked at my door ; and
althoughl gave him no answer, dread-
ing to be found reading such a book, he
continued to knock and beat the door,
until I had to open it. He came in, and
seeing the book lying on the bed, he
seized it, and examining its title, he
said,—-“ VVhy H , do you read
such books ?” I hesitated, but God
enabled me to be decided, and tell him
boldly, but with much emotion, “ Yes
I do.” The young man replied 'Wll"‘1
deep agitation, “ Oh I-I ,you may
obtain religion, but 1 never can. I
came here a professor of religion; but
through fear, I dissembled it, and have
been carried along with the wicked.
until I fear that there is no hope for me."
He told me that there were two others,
who he believed were somewhat serious.
We agreed to take up the subject of
religion in earnest, and seek it together.
VVe invited the other two, and held a


176
IN PROMOTING REVIVALS.
75
prayer-meeting in my room on the
next Saturday afternoon. And O,
what a prayer-meeting! We tried to
pray, but such prayer I never heard the
ike of. We knew not how to pray,
but tried to do it. It was the first
prayer-meeting that I ever heard of.
We tried to sing, but it was in a sup-
pressed manner, for we feared the other
students. But they found it out, and
gathered around the door, and made
such a noise that some of the officers had
to disperse them. And so serious was
the disturbance, that the President, the
late excellent Rev. Dr. John B. Smith,
had to investigate the matter at prayers
that evening, in the prayers’ hall.
When he demanded the reason of the
riot, a ringleader in wickedness got up and
stated, that it was occasioned by three
or fourof the boys holding prayer-meet
ing, and they were determined to have
no such doings there. The good Presi-
dent heard the statement with deep
emotion, and looking at the youths
charged with the sin of praying, with
tears in his eyes, he said, “ Oh, is there
such a state of things in this college’.2
Then God has come near to us. My
dear young friends, you shall be pro-
tected. You shall hold your next meet-
ing in my parlor, and I will be one of
your number!” Sure enough, we had
our next meeting in his parlor, and half
the college was there; and there began
the glorious revival of religion, which
pervaded the college and spread into the
country around. Many of those stu-
dents became ministers of the gospel.
The youth who had brought me Alleine’s
Alarm from his mother was my friend
the Rev. Mr. C. Still, preaching in this
State. And he who interrupted me in
reading the work, my venerable and
worthy friend, the Rev. Dr. H ,
is new president of a college in the west.
Truly, said Dr. H ,I have good
reason to feel a deep interest in the pro-
posed work. May God grant it suc-
cess.”
(c) BAXTER’S CALL FORBID-
DEN.—-Rev. Mr. B , of the Seventh
Day Baptist Church, stated in a public
meeting, that after his conversion he re-
quested the teacher of the school which
he attended, to grant him the privilege



of reading by himself, and in a book of
his own selection. He chose Baxter’s
Call; but before he had read it half
through, there was so much excitement
in the school, in the district, and in the
mind of the teacher, that he was for-
bidden to read from it. Though Bax-
ter was silenced, truth was still upon
the heart; and in a few days the
teacher and nearly eve ry scholar was
converted, besides many in the district.
(d) THE JUDGE AND THE
LAWYERS.——.Iudge , of Tennes-
see, who was hopefully converted by a
blessing on the perusal of Nelson 5
Cause and Cure of Infidelity, loaned it
to two skeptical lawyers, who were also
hopefully converted. They were men
of influence, and established meetings
at two different points, in connexion with
which some two hundred individual-
were hopefully converted and gather-
ed into the church. That copy of
Nelson was sold them by a colporteur.
A member of Congress was among the
converts.
(e) RESULTS OF READING DOD-
DRIDGE.--In 1807 a clergyman left
the city of Hartford for the far West—-
as far as Whitestown, N ew-York‘: He
took with him some copies of the “Rise
and Progress,” and as he stopped at a
cabin tavern, he noticed that the woman,
who waited on him at the table, was
busily engaged in reading. He inquired
what book she had, and learned it
was the “ Rise and Progress,” which a
neighbor had lent to her, and she was
copying out passages that peculiarly
fitted her mind. He gave her a copy
of the book, which she received with
great delight. In 1838, he was passing
that way, and, inquiring for this woman
by name, he was pointed to an elegant
house as her residence. He called on
her, and asked her if she remembered
him’.2 She did not. j‘But do you not
remember the man who gave you
‘ Doddridge’s Rise and Progress ’ thirty
years ago ?” “ Oh, yes,” said she,
“ are you the man’.2 lVhy that book
was the means of converting my soul ;
and it was lent round, and others read
it, and we had meetings to read it to-
gether; it was read at huskings and
bees, and on the Sabbath day, and a

12
177
75, '76
CARD-PLAYING.
revival followed; and by and by we
sent for a minister, and formed a
church.” The church at VVyoming is
the fruit of that seed, and that book
still lives, and who knows but it may be
the means of forming other churches, or
raising up other writers like Doddridge,
to bless the world ’.l
CONVERSION OF A UNI-
VERSALIST.—-—In a town in New
Jersey where Universalism had a strong
hold, the volumes were circulated by
two colporteurs from the Princeton Se-
minary. A Christian friend having
purchased Nelson on Infidelity, loaned
it to a leading Universalist. He read

-- up n - ~-

__
it eagerly; his attention was arrested;
he was soon found in the company of
Christians, seeking an interest in their
prayers, and became a praying man.
His conversion was the beginning of a
revival. Others who had embraced
the same error followed his example.
The influence of the visits and volumes
of the colporteurs was manifest ,in an
increased spirit of inquiry and attend-
ance upon public worship; and during
the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, nearly
seventy were added to the church under
the pastoral care of our informant in
that place.
76. CARD-PL AYIN G.
(a) MR. SCOTT REFORMED.—-
The Rev. Thomas Scott, in the early
part of his life, was exceedingly fond
of cards, but was induced to leave off
he practice in the following manner:
One of his parishioners said to him,
“I have something which I Wish to say
to you; but I am afraid you may be
offended.” “I answered,” says Mr.
Scott, “that I could not promise, but
I hoped I should not.” She then said,
“You know A—— B—-; he has lately
appeared attentive to religion, and has
spoken to me concerning the sacra-
ment ; but last night he, with C—— D--,
and others, met to keep Christmas ; and
they played at cards, drank too much,
and in the end quarreled, and raised a
sort of riot. And when I remonstrated
with him on his conduct, as inconsis-
tent with his professed attention to reli-
gion, his answer was, ‘ There is no harm
in cards--lV[r. Scott plays at cards.’
This smote me to the heart. I saw that
if I played at cards, however soberly
and quietly, the ‘people would be en-
couraged by my example to go farther ;
and if St. Paul would eat no flesh while
the world stood, rather than cause his
weak brother to offend, it would be
inexcusable in me to throw such a
stumbling-block in the way of my
parishioners, in a matter certainly
neither useful nor expedient. So far

from being offended at the hmt thus
given me, I felt very thankful to my
faithful monitor, and promised her that
she should never have occasion to re-
peat the admonition. That very eve-
ning I related the whole matter to the
company, and declared my fixed reso-
lution never to play at cards again. I
expected I should be harassed with so-
licitations, but I was never asked to
play afterwards.
(b) A BLESSING AT A CARD.
TABLE.—The Rev. W. Romaine was
one evening invited to a friend’s house
to tea, and after the tea-things were re-
moved, the lady of the house asked him
to play at cards, to which he made no
objection. The cards were produced,
and when all were ready to commence
play, the venerable minister said, “ Let
us ask the blessing of God.” “ Ask
the blessing of God!” said the lady, in
great surprise ; “I never heard of such
a thing to a game at cards.” Mr. Ro-
maine then inquired, “Ought we to
engage in any thing on which we can-
not ask his blessing?” This gentle
reproof put an end to the card-playing.
(c) ROMAINE’S ADMONITION.
—-This good man was once addressed
by a lady, who expressed the great
pleasure she had enjoyed under his
preaching, and added, that she could
comply with his requirements, with the
178
CASTE.
,l
76, 77

;-
exception of one thing. “ And what is
that, madam '2” asked Mr. R. “ Cards,
sir.” “You think you could not be
happy without them ’.l” “No, sir, I
knowI could not.” “Then, madam,
they are your God, and they must save
you.” This pointed admonition led to
serious reflection, and finally to the
abandonment of such unworthy plea-
sures.
(d) CARD-TABLE CONVERSA-
TION.-—-Mr. Locke having been in-
troduced by Lord Shaftesbury to the
Duke of Buckingham and Lord Hali-
fax, these three noblemen, instead of
conversing with the philosopher, as
might naturally have been expected,
on literary subjects, sat down to cards.
Mr. Locke, after looking on for some
time, pulled out his pocket-book, and
began to write with great attention.
One of the company observing this,
took the liberty of asking him what he
was writing. “ My lord,” said Locke,
“I am endeavoring, as far as possible,
to profit by my present situation; for,
having waited with impatience for the
honor of being in company with the
greatest men of the age, I thought I
could do nothing better than write down
your conversation ; and, indeed, I have
set down the substance of what you
have said, this last hour or two.” This

-——-
well-timed ridicule had its desired
effect; and these noblemen, fully sen-
sible of its force, immediately quitted
their play, and entered into conversa-
tion more rational, and better suited to
the dignity of their characters.
(e) A SHREWD REPLY.-Sir
Walter Scott says that the alleged
origin of the invention of cards pro-
duced one of the shrewuest replies he
had ever heard given in evidence. It
was made by the late Dr. Gregory,
at Edinburgh, to a counsel of great
eminence at the Scottish bar. The
doctor’s testimony went to prove the
insanity of the party whose mental
capacity was the point at issue. On a
cross-interrogation, he admitted that the
person in question played admirably at
whist. “And do you seriously say,
doctor,” said the learned counsel, “ that
a person having a superior capacity for
a game so difiicult, and which requires,
in a pre-eminent degree, memory, judg-
ment, and combination, can be at the
same time deranged in his understand-
ing '2” “I am no card-player,” said
the doctor, with great address, “ butI
have read in history that cards were
invented for the amusement of an in-
sane king.” The consequences of this
reply were decisive.
77. CASTE.
(a) HINDOO VIEWS OF CASTE.
-—A Brahmin in Calcutta asked a
European gentleman, “What is your
order of society in Great Britain, are
you divided into castes, or do you eat
and drink together, according to cir-
cumstances ’Z’’ The European replied,
“ We deem it our honor to demean
ourselves as brethren in the participa-
tion of food at one table, as Providence
permits.” The Brahmin replied, “That
appears to me to be an offence against
good morals and good conduct.” The
gentleman rejoined, “I think I can
prove it to you, by a practice of your

own, that you are in error. How do
you act in the field of Juggernaut?
Do you not eat there with the lowest
caste of India’.2 There you know no
distinction of caste, but all feed at one
board.” The Brahmin answered, “I
can screen myself from the imputation
you bring against us, for there we are
in the presence of our god, there Jug-
gernaut is in our midst, and there we
can feast together.” “Ah!” said the
gentleman, “and I can justify the
Christian practice on your own prin-
ciples, for we are every where in the
presence of our God.”
179
78, 79
CENSURE—CENSORIOUSNESS--CHILDREN .

78. CENSURE--CENSORIO USNESS.
ta) WESLEY’S GROUNDLESS
SUSPICIONS.--Beware, says Mr.
Wesley, of forming a hasty judgment
concerning the fortune of others. There
may be secrets in the situation of a
person, which few but God are ac-
quainted with. Some years since I
told a gentleman, “ Sir, I am afraid you
are covetous.” He asked me, “What
is the reason of your fears '2” I an-
swered, “ A year ago, when I made a
collection for the expense of’ repairing
the Foundry, you subscribed five gLi-
neas. At the subscription made this
year you subscribed only half a gui-
nea.” He made no reply, but after a
time asked, “Pray, sir, answer me a
question : Why do you live upon pota-
toes '2” (I did so between three and
four years.) Ireplied, “It has much

conduced to my health.” IIe answered,
“I believe it has. But did you not do
it likewise to save money '2” I saidl
did, “ for what I save from my own
meat, will feed another, that else would
have none.” “But, sir,” said he, “if
this be your motive you may save more.
Iknow a man that goes to market at
the beginning of every week ; there he
buys a pennyworth of parsnips, which
he boils in a large quantity of water.
The parsnips serve him for food, and
the water for drink, during the ensuing
week, so that his meat and drink to-
gether cost him only a penny a week.
This he constantly did, though he had
two hundred pounds a year, to pay the
debts he had contracted before he knew
God!” And this is he whom I set down
to be a covetous man .'
CHILDREN.
79. Moral and Religious Influence of
Children.
(a) THE SWEARER’S DAUGH-
TER.——The Rev. Mr. Solomon Carpen-
ter held a religious meeting in Sussex
county, Mass., at the house of a man who
was awfully addicted to swearing, and
the minister took occasion to reprove this
and other vices. A little girl belonging
to the family withdrew, and placed her-
self behind the door, and began to weep
very bitterly. Her father particularly
asked her the cause of this, and she
told him she was afraid he would go to
hell on account of his swearing. He
at length promised her that if she would
refrain from weeping he would never
swear any more. The child was now
quiet, and in an ecstasy of joy after-
wards told her mother of the promise
she had obtained from her father. The
unexpected reproof the father had thus
received from his daughter was lasting-
ty impressed on his mind; he became a
humble penitent, and lived to be a shin-
ing light in the Christian community

with which he was afterwards con-
nected.
(2)) FAMILY ALTAR RESTOR-
ED.—-A man once received from his
own child, an infant of three years old,
one of the most severe reproofs he ever
met with. Family prayer had been,
by some means, neglected one morning,
and the child Was, as it were, out of its
element. At length, he came to his
father as he sat, and just as the family
were going to dinner, the little reprover,
leaning on his father’s knee, said, with
a sigh, “Pa, you were used to go to
prayer with us, but you did not to-day.”
“No, my dear,” said the parent, “I
did not.” “ But, pa, you ought; why
did you not '2” The father had not a
word to reply, and the child’s rebuke
was as appropriate and natural, as if it
had been administered by the most able
minister in the land; and, it may be
said, was as permanently useful.
(0) THE DAUGHTER’S LET.
TER.--Not long ago, writes a gentle-
man in 1833, as I took some coffee at
a house of refreshment, a gentleman
‘* 180
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN.
79
D -
whe was reading the newspaper, entered
into conversation with me. Among
other things, we spoke of the Christian
Sabbath, when he thus expressed him-
self :—-“ Though there is doubtless much
ungodliness in England, yet when com-
pared with the Sabbaths on the continent,
a Sabbath here is a delightful season.
No one can truly value that blessed day
until he has been deprived of its enjoy-
ment. When in the army,I felt this
deprivation; we had misery in every
shape, for, in the Peninsular war, toil,
danger, disease, and death, were con-
tinually around and among us. The
nearer the men appeared to be to eter-
nity, the farther off their thoughts
seemed to be from God.
“It was on the Sabbath day that I
received a letter from an affectionate
daughter, then in England; it alluded
to the uncertainty of life, especially to a
military man. It pressed on me the
consideration of eternal things, and
pointed me to Him who, in peace and
in war, in health and in sickness, in
life and in death, is able to save them
to the uttermost that come unto God by
him. Every word made a lodgment in
my heart. Folding up the letter, and
putting a book of prayer in my pocket,
I walked out to a distance from the
camp, until I came to a solitary ditch ;
in that ditch, on my knees, I poured out
my soul before God, and there, in peace,
I spent my Sabbath day.”
(ti) THE CHILD AND HIS CLO-
SET.—-When the late Rev. Thomas
Reader, of Taunton, Was but a child
of eight years old, he felt the importance
of religion, and could not be happy
without private prayer. One evening,
his father’s house being full of company,
ne had not a convenient place for his
secret devotions ; but unwilling to omit
what he knew to be his duty, he went
mto his father’s wool-loft to enjoy the
pleasure of communion with God. At
first he felt some childish fears, on ac-
count of his lonely situation ; but after-
wards his mind was so filled with God,
and the joys of religion, that he forgot
the gloominess of the place. During his
childhood, a person being on a visit at
his father’s, Thomas was appointed to
lleep with him. After the gentleman

had retired to his chamber, the pious
little boy knocked at the door, request-
ing him to let him go through his room
to an inner closet, which he used to fre-
quent for the exercise of prayer. The
conscience of the visitor severely smote
him: “ What,” thought he, “is this
little child so anxious to obtain a place
for devout retirement, while I have
never prayed in my life ?” It led him
to serious reflections, which, through
the Divine blessing, were the happy
means of his conversion ; and he after-
wards became a true Christian, and a
useful minister of the ospel.
(6) THE NEGLECTED ALTAR.
—A person, who afterwards became a
Sunday school teacher near Cambridge,
(Eng.) having had his conviction of the
necessity and importance of religious
duties shaken, began to think lightly of
them, and to omit family prayer, which
he had been accustomed to perform.
A child of his, who had been taught at
a Sabbath school, one day said to his
parent, with great simplicity, “Father,
do you pray in the morning, and let me
pray with you.” The father was
struck with this gentle reproof from his
own child, and confessed that he could
no longer live in the neglect of family
rayer.
(f) THE POOR CRIPPLE.——I
have seen, says the Rev. J. East, in one
of the infant schools at Bath, a helpless
cripple filling the post of monitor, while
propped up on a high chair for the pur-
pose; and I understood that this poor
little boy, who was under the influence
of religious principle, had been the
means of bringing salvation home to his
house, in the conversion of his father
and mother, from an ungodly and pro-
fligate life, to one of moral correctness
and true iety.
(g) THE DYING ORPHAN AND
HER GRANDMOTHER.-—-Rosina,
an orphan child, at a Moravian mission-
ary station, in North America, being
under the care of an old relation, said,
the night before her decease, “ Dear
grandmother, I am baptized and cleans-
ed in our Savior’s blood, and shall
now soon go to him ; but I beg you to
seek to be likewise washed, and saved
from your sins, by the blood of Christ,
181
79
CHILDREN.
an
that you may become as happy as I am ;
otherwise, when you go hence, you will
not be with the Lord.” This exhorta-
t1on from a dying child made such an
impression upon the old woma.n’s heart,
that she became anxiously concerned
about her salvation, prayed for the re-
mission of her sins in the blood of Jesus,
begged for baptism, and was added to
the church.
(It) THE SAILOR REPROVED.
-—A very profane and profligate sailor,
who belonged to a vessel lying in the
port of New-York, went out one day
from his ship into the streets, bent on
folly and wickedness. He met a pious
little girl, whose feelings he tried to
wound by using vile and sinful language.
The little girl looked at him earnestly
in tne face, warned him of his danger,
and, with a solemn tone, told him to re-
member that he must meet her shortly
at the bar of God. This unexpect-
ed reproof greatly affected him. To
use his own language, “it was like a
broadside, raking him fore and aft, and
sweeping by the board every sail and
spar prepared for a wicked cruise.”
Abashed and confounded, he returned to
his ship. He could not banish from his
mind the reproof of this little girl. Her
look was present to his mind; her
solemn declaration, “ You must meet me
at the bar of God,” deeply affected his
heart. The more he reflected upon it,
the more uncomfortable he felt. In a
few days his hard heart was subdued,
and he submitted to the Savior. He
became a consistent follower of the
Lamb.
THE CHILD AND HER PA-
PIST FATHER.—Says a correspon-
dent of the Advocate of Moral Reform :
I was in the city of P., seated in the
study of the brother with whom I had
been laboring, when a little German
girl, of twelve or fourteen years of age
entered the room, and bursting into
tears exclaimed, in an animated tone,
“Oh, Mr. , Iam sure the Lord
is going to convert my father. I do
believe he will be converted now,” she
added, with so much emotion, as drew
from me the inquiry, “Of whom is she
speaking ?” “ Tell the gentleman your-
self, my child,” said my friend, “what



1-Q“
God has done for you, and what he has
been trying to do for him.”
From the simple story of the girl, I
gathered the following. A year and a
half before, in her ignorance and sin
she had been led to enter the church
where my friend was preaching, and
while there, the Lord graciously met
her, and converted her soul. Full of
joy and wonder, she ran home to tell
her father, who was a bigoted Catholic,
what a Savior she had found; but to
her surprise, he became very angry,
beat her cruelly, and forbade the men-
tion of the subject again in his house.
She continued to attend church, and
expressed a wish to join with the people
of God in commemorating the dying
love of her Savior. He told her if
she did, he would beat her to death.
With this prospect, she determined to
do her duty, putting her trust in Him
who hath said, “ I will never leave nor
forsake thee.” When she returned
home and told her father what she had
done, he beat her most unmercifully,
and drove her from the house, telling
her never to return, until she had given
up her new-fangled religion. Thus for-
saken of her father, the Lord took her
up ; she was provided with a place in a
pious family, at service, reserving to
herself the first Monday in every month ,
which day she spent in distributing
tracts to all the German families of her
acquaintance, and whenever permitted
she prayed with them before she left,
always taking her father’s house in her
way, though sure of being beaten, and
driven from it. Month after month.
she offered the hardened man a tract, at
the same time entreating him to think
of his poor soul, and offering to pray
with him. Although uniformly driven
away, with severe blows, she said, “ I
did not care for the blows, for, sir, my
poor father’s soul was all I thought of
or cared for.” In this course she perse-
vered,—how long do you think, indo-
lent Christian’.2 not one month, which
many think too long to wait for an an.
swer to prayer; but eighteen months,
without seeing any fruit of her labor.
Two months before I met her, she found,
on visiting her father, that he was in
tears over his work ; he suffered her to
182
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE OF CHILDREN.
--
'79
read, converse and pray without inter-
ruption, and at parting, bade her come
again. The next month he was even
more tender, and on the day I first saw
her, she had seen him again, and she
said, “ Oh, how changed was my poor
father.’ with tears he begged me to
forgive him, and pray for him. I told
him I had laid nothing up against him,
and asked him to pray for himself. He
knelt down by my side, but could
only say, ‘O Lord, forgive, forgive,
O Lord, forgive 5’ and now, sir, I am
sure the Lord will hear and convert my
poor father.”
The next evening, on entering the
praying circle, I recognized the voice of
the little German girl in the individual
who was addressing the throne of grace.
Her father was there, inquiring with
trembling eagerness the way to the
Savior’s feet. The father and daugh-
ter left the room together that night,
rejoicing in the grace which had wash-
ed away their stains.
LITTLE BOY’S ENTREATY.
—VVhile the Rev. Mr. Chambers was
once addressing a temperance meeting
In Philadelphia, a man who had been
occupying a seat in a distant part of the
room, arose with a little boy in his arms,
scarce six years old, and came forward
to the speaker’s stand 5 all gave way
for him. He placed his child on the
stand, and while the tears were running
fast down his cheeks, and with trem-
bling accents, addressed the speaker:
“ My little boy said to me, ‘ Father, do
not drink any more!’ Gentlemen, I
have taken my last drink.” The effect
produced upon the audience beggars all
description. The speaker and the
whole audience were bathed in tears;
and such was the good effects of this ex-
ample, that seventeen others came for-
ward and signed the PLEDGLI Mr
Chambers, with tears streaming down
his face, caught the boy in his arms,
exclaiming, “Well may we say that
the grave of Alcohol has been dug by
this little boy I”
(It) INFANT’S PRAYER AN-
SWERED.——A drunkard who had run
through his property, says Dr. Schne-
bly, returned one night to his unfurnish-
ed home. He entered its empty hall 5

anguish was gnawing at his heart-strings,
and language is inadequate to express
his agony as he entered his wife’s
apartment, and there beheld the victims
of his appetite, his lovely wife and dar-
ling child. Morose and sullen, he seat-
ed himself without a word; he could
not speak, he could not look upon them.
The mother said to the little angel by
her side, “Come, my child, it is time to
go to bed 5” and that little babe, as was
her wont, knelt by her mother’s lap, and
gazing wistfully into the face of her suf-
fering parent, like a piece of chiseled
statuary, repeated her nightly or1son5
and when she had finished, the child,
( but four years of age,) said to her mo-
ther, “ Dear ma, may I not offer up one
more prayer T’ “ Yes, yes, my sweet
pet, pray5” and she lifted up her tiny
hands, closed her eyes, and prayed,
“ O God! spare, oh, spare my dear
papa I” That prayer was waited with
electric rapidity to the throne of God.
It was heard on high——’twas heard on
earth. The responsive “ Amen” burst
from that father’s lips, and his heart of
stone became a heart of flesh. VVife
and child were both clasped to his
bosom, and in penitence he said, “ Jlfy
child, you have saved your father from
the grave of a dram/lsard. I’ZZ sign the
pledge ."’
(Z) THE CHILD’S REPROOF OF
AN IRRELIGIOUS FATHER. —-
The father of a little boy in Phila-
delphia, an irreligious man, oifered to
attend him to the Sabbath school, it be-
ing a very rainy day.-—“ Father, why
don’t you stay at the school, and go to
meeting with me? you ought to go to
meeting.” The reproof was too power-
ful to be resisted. His soul was filled
with remorse. He left his child at the
school-house door, and turned back.
But the arrow of conviction had
pierced his soul! He turned back, con-
science-smitten, to weep over his sins,
with a heart full of sorrow. He re-
turned home immediately, retired to his
chamber, bowed his knees in prayer,
opened and read his Bible; in doing
which he found relief, for the Spirit of
the Lord had accompanied the words
of the child, and the result was, that
from this Sabbat 1 day he determined to
183
80
HAPPY DEATHS OF PIOUS CHILDREN.

,-
consecrate himself to God-—to forsake
the company of his guilty associates-
to abandon the drunkard’s bowl, and to
lead a new life. He was enabled by
divine grace to fulfil his resolution ; from
that day he established family prayer ;
became the subject of renewing grace,
was baptized, and united with the
church, of which he proved a worthy
member.
80. Happy Deaths of Pious Children.
(a) THE STRONGEST LOVE.-
A little girl between six and seven
years of age, when on her death-bed,
seeing her elder sister with a Bible in
her hand, requested her to read re-
specting Christ’s blessing little children.
The passage having been read, and the
book closed, the child said, “How kind!
Ishall soon go to Jesus; he will soon
take me up in his arms, bless me too ;
no disciple shall keep me away.” Her
sister kissed her, and said, “Do you
love me '2" “ Yes, my dear,’ ’ she replied,
“ but do not be angry, I love Jesus bet-
ter.”
(Z?) DEATH OF DINAH DOWD-
NEY.—Miss Dinah Dowdney, of Port-
sea, who died at nine years of age, one
day in her illness said to her aunt, with
whom she lived, “ When I am dead, I
should like Mr. Griffin to preach a
sermon to children to persuade them to
love Jesus Christ, to obey their parents,
not to tell lies, but to think of dying and
going to heaven. I have been think-
ing,” said she, “ what text I should like
him to preach from; 2 Kings 4: 26.
You are the Shunamite, Mr. G. is the
prophet, and I am the Shunamite’s
child. When I am dead I dare say you
will be grieved, though you need not.
The prophet will come to see you ; and
when he says, ‘ How is it with the
child '2’ you may say, ‘ IT Is wELL.’ I
am sure it will then be well with me,
for I shall be in heaven singing the
praises of God. You ought to think it
well too.” Mr. G. accordingly fulfilled
the wish of this pious child.
(0) WILL YOU MEET ME
THERE, FATHER '2-—At a public
meeting of the London Cit y Mission, in

1836, the Rev. R. Ainslie related the
following fact :-—-An infided allowed his
wife to send their two children to a
Sunday school. One of them, not long
after, was seized with illness, and it
soon appeared, from the nature of the
disease, he could not recover. The
father came home, on the last evening
of the child’s life, from an infidel meet-
ing, under the influence of the senti-
ments and principles usually taught in
such societies, when his wife said to
him, “James is dying.” The father
went up stairs, approached the bedside
of his dying child, and while the father
was looking upon him, the child said,
“ Father, I am very happy ; I am going
to heaven; will you meet me there, fa-
ther '2” and immediately expired. This
appeal was too much for him. Uttered
with so much simplicity, and dictated
by the Eternal Spirit, it was engraven
upon the tablet of his heart as with a
pen of iron upon lead, and sculptured
there forever. He made many efforts
to efface the impression from his mind,
but without effect. He confesses, that
he was a drunkard, a blasphemer, and,
to use his own language, “the vilest
wretch out of hell.” The appeal con-
tinued to be more and more affecting to
him, and on one Sabbath, having driven
a party a few miles from town, for he
was the driver of a fly, he put up his
horses quickly, and went to church
One of the lessons for the day was 2
Sam. xiii., containing the reflections of
David on the death of his child. When
he heard the words, “I shall go to him,
but he shall not return to me,” he
thought, “ It is impossible.” His past
life and infidel ridicule of heaven forbade
the hope that he should ever meet his
child in that happy world. Still his
mind Was greatly distressed. He had
no pious friend; he could get neither
light nor peace in this season of menta
anguish. An agent of the City Mis-
sion at length called upon him; the
man disclosed his state of mind, and the
instructions, counsels, and prayers of
the agent were blessed by the Holy
Spirit: the man has renounced his
infidelity --his character is entirely
changed ; he and his wife are regularly
worshippers in the house of God, and
184
DIVINITY OF CHRIST.
so, 81

he is now cherishing the hope, that he
shall meet his child in heaven.
(4) THE UN WELCOME VISIT.—-
A little boy, who was educated in one
of the London Hibernian Schools, in the
county of Roscommon, was seized by
sickness, and confined to his bed. In
a few days his dissolution seemed to
be near. The parents of the boy being
Roman Catholics, sent immediately for
the priest, to have the rites of their
church administered, which, in their
estimation, was the needful preparation
for heaven. On the arrival of the
priest, the boy seemed much confused,
and astonished at his coming. “Your
visit,” said the boy, “ was altogether
unnecessary; Ihave no need of your
help or assistance: I have a great
High Priest at the right hand of the
Majesty in the heavens, able to save
to the uttermost all that come unto God
by him: He lives for evermore, to
make intercession; and He is such a
priest as I require.” The priest per-
ceiving it to be in vain to reason at
such a time, and knowing the boy to
have been made acquainted with the
Bible, went away. The child request-
ed his parents to send for his school-
master, who stated that he never wit-
nessed such a scene; it was altogether
unexpected. The boy was always
silent ; though he was attentive to the
instructions given at school, he never
once hinted a change in his sentiments.
In the course of conversation, he was
asked if he was afraid to die. “ No,”
replied the boy; “my Redeemer is
Lord of the dead and living; I love
him for his love to me, and soon I hope
to be with him to see his glory.”

(e) THE MYSTERIOUS HEAR-
ER.-—A clergyman in the county of
Tyrone had, for some Weeks, 0lJS61‘\ ed
a little ragged boy come every Sunday,
and place himself in the centre of the
aisle, directly opposite the pulpit, where
he seemed exceedingly attentive to the
service. He was desirous of knowing
who the child was, and for this purpose
nastened out, after the sermon, several
times, but never could see him, as he
vanished the moment service was over,
and no one knew whence he came, or
any thing about him. At length the
boy was missed from his usual situation
in the church, for some weeks. At this
time a man called on the minister, and
told him a person very ill was desirous
of seeing him; but added, “I am really
ashamed to ask you to go so far; but
it is a child of mine, and he refuses to
have any one but you; he is altogether
an extraordinary boy, and talks a great
deal about things that I do not under-
stand.” The clergyman promised to
go, and went, though the rain poured
down in torrents, and he had six miles
of rugged mountain country to pass.
On arriving where he was directed, he
saw a most wretched cabin indeed, and
the man he had seen in the morning
was waiting at the door. He was
shown in, and found the inside of the
hovel as miserable as the outside. In
a corner, on a little straw, he beheld a
person stretched out, whom he recog-
nized as the little boy who had so re-
gularly attended his church. As he
approached the wretched bed, the child
raised himself up, and stretching forth
his arms, said, “ His own right hand
hath gotten him the victory,” Psa.
98: 1 ; and immediately expired!
CHRIST.
Si. Divinity of Christ.
(a) THE COBBLER’S CONCLU-
SION.——A oor man, unable to read,
who obtained his livelihood by mending
old shoes, was asked by an Arian
ninister, how he knew ‘hat Jesus Christ
was the Son of God ‘.3 “ Sir,” he replied,
“ I am sorry you have put such a
question to me before my children,
although I think I can give you a satis-
factory answer. You know, sir, when
I first became concerned about my soul,
and unhappy on account of my sins, I
185
81
DIVINITY OF CHRIST.

called upon you to ask for your advice,
and you told me to get into company,
and spend my time as merrily as I
could, but not to go to hear the Me-
thodists.” “I did so,” answered the
ungodly minister. “I followed your
advice,” continued the illiterate cobbler,
“ for some time ; but the more I trifled,
the more my misery increased ; and at
last I was persuaded to hear one of those
Methodist ministers who came into our
neighborhood, and preached Jesus Christ
as the Savior. In the greatest agony
of mind, I prayed to Him to save me,
and to forgive my sins; and now I feel
that he has freely forgiven them !—and
by this I know that he is the Son of God.’ ’
(Z2) ARIANS CONFOUNDED.-—
Two of Dr. Priestly’s followers, emi-
nent men, once called on an old gentle-
man of the Society of Friends, to ask
what was his opinion of the person of
Christ. After a little consideration, he
replied :-—“ The apostle says, VVe preach
Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stum-
bling-block, because they expected a
temporal Messiah ; to the Greeks foolish-
ness, because he was crucified as a
malefactor; but unto them which are
called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ
the power of God, and the wisdom of
God. Now, if you can separate the
power of God from God, and the wisdom
of God from God, I will come over
to your opinions.”—-They were both
struck dumb, and did not attempt to
utter a single word in re 1 .
(0) THE CAVILLER SILENCED.
——Two gentlemen were once disputing
on the divinity of Christ. One of them
who argued against it, said, “If it were
true it certainly would have been ex-
pressed in more clear and unequivocal
terms.” “Well,” said the other, “ad-
mitting that you believed it, were you
authorized to teach it, and allowed to
use your own language, how would you
express the doctrine to make it indubit-
able ?” “I would say,” replied he,
“that Jesus Christ is the true God.”
“ You are very happy,” rejoined the
other, “in the choice of your words;
for you have happened to hit upon the
very words of inspiration. St. John,
speaking of the Son, says, ‘This is the
true God and eternal life.’ ”

___~
(tl) THE INEXPLICABLE CHAP-
TER.—-There was a young man in a
school, who had previously indulged the
hope of having passed from death unto
life, but had not believed in the divinity
of Christ. As he was teaching, in the
course of his delightful work, a class of
children upon a section of the first chap-
ter of John, he knew not how to direct
them, or explain to the little listeners
what seemed plain to those who believed
the Son of God to be a divine person, but
on his own principles was inexplicable.
This circumstance led him to consider
more closely the sacred text, and led him
to believe in the supreme divinity of that
Savior, whom he had degraded to a finite,
created being. Thus, the truth of the
inspired volume is made to appear. He
that watereth, shall be watered also him-
se .
(e) “ THE GOD YVAO VVlTHIN.”
-—While Mr. Kirkland was a mission-
ary to the Oneidas, being uriwell, he
was unable to preach on the afternoon
of a certain Sabbath, and told Peter, one
of the head men of the Oneidas, that he
must address the congregation. Peter
modestly and reluctantly consented.
After a few words of introduction, he
began a discourse on the character of
the Savior. “ What, my brethren,”
said he, “ are the views which you
form of the character of Jesus? You
will answer, perhaps, that he was a
man of singular benevolence. You
will tell me, that he proved this to be
his character, by the nature of the
miracles which he wrought. All these,
you will say, were kind in the extreme.
He created bread, to feed thousands
who were ready to perish. He raised
to life the son of a poor woman, who
was a widow, and to whom his labors
were necessary for her support in old
age.
of the Savior '2 I will tell you, they
are lame. When Jesus came into the
world, he threw his blanket around him,
but the God was within.”
THE ROCK OF CALVARY.—-
In Fleming’s Chrgistology it‘ is stated
that a deist, visiting the sacred places
of Palestine, was shown the clefts of
Mount Calvary. Examining them nar-
rowly and critically, he turned in
Are these, then, your only views \
186
BUSCELLANEOUS.
81, 82

amazement to his fellow-travelers, and
said, “I have long been a student of
nature, and I am sure these clefts and
rents in this rock were never made by
nature, or an ordinary earthquake; for,
by such a concussion, the rock must
have split according to the veins, and
where it was weakest in the adhesion
of parts; for this,” said he, “I have
observed to have been done in other
rocks when separated or broken after
an earthquake; and reason tells me it
must always be so. But it is quite
otherwise here; for the rock is split
athwart and across the veins in a most
strange and preternatural manner ; and,
therefore,” said he, “I thank God that
I came hither to see the standing monu-
ment of a miraculous power by which
God gives evidence to this day of the
divinity of Christ.”
(g) CONVICTIONS OF NAPO_
LEON.——“I know men,” said Napo-
leon at 'St. Helena, to Count de Mon-
tholon, “I know men, and I tell you
that Jesus is not a man I The religion
of Christ is a mystery, which subsists by
its own force, and proceeds from a mind
which is not a human mind. I/Ve find in
it a marked individuality, which origin-
ated a train of words and actions un-
known before. Jesus is not a philoso-
pher, for his proofs are miracles, and
from the first his disciples adored him.
“Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne,
and myself, founded empires; but on
what foundation did we rest the crea-
tions of our genius’.Z Upon force.
Jesus Christ founded an empire upon
love ; and at this hour, millions of men
would die for him l
“I die before my time, and my body
will be given back to the earth, to be-
come food for worms. Such is the fate
of him who has been called the great
Napoleon. What an abyss between
my deep mystery and the eternal
kingdom of Christ, which is proclaim-
ed, loved, and adored, and is extending
over the whole earth !”
Turning to Gen. Bertrand the em-
oeror added, “If you do not perceive
that Jesus Christ is God I did wrong to
appoint you general I”


8%. Miscellaneous.
(at) THE GOD WHO PAID THE
DEBT.-—A poor negro on the coast of
Africa, who felt some concern about
his soul, applied to his priest, who gave
him various directions, which were all
unavailing. He was so distressed in
his mind, that he went wandering
about from place to place, without
meeting with any thing to comfort him.
One day as he was sitting in a solitary
manner on the beach, some English
sailors came ashore to get water. As
they were rolling the cask along, one
of them heard the meanings of the poor
negro, and going up to him said,
“ Hallo, shipmate! wnat’s the matter
with you ?” The negro began to tell
his tale of we, in broken language, but
was hastily interrupted by the sailor
exclaiming, “ Oh, I see what’s the mat-
ter with you ; you must go to England,
and there you’ll hear of the Christian’s
God, who paid the debt.” These words
were spoken in a careless and thoughtless
manner ; but they made an impression on
the mind of the negro, and he determined
to proceed to England. He traveled a
great many miles until he came to an
English settlement, where he got leave
to work his passage over in a ship that
was lying there. During the voyage
he would frequently approach one sail-
or and another, and say, with great
simplicity, in a plaintive tone, “Please,
massa, you tell me where Christian’s
God dat pay de debt?” The seamen,
who it appears were all irreligious, only
laughed at him, and concluded he was
mad. The ship arrived at London,
and the negro was put ashore at ‘Vap-
ping. Having no money to receive,
he wandered from street to street, and
whenever he could catch a single pas-
senger, he would stop and say, in the
most melancholy manner, “ Please,
massa, you please tell poor black man
where Christian’s God dat pay de
debt '2” Some told him to go about his
business, some gave him money, and
others, supposing him to be deranged,
passed on ; but he met no one to answer
his question. In this manner he con-
tinued to stroll about, as devoid of com-
fort in England as in his own land‘
187
83
CHRISTIANITY, CHARACTER OF.

and frequently would he steal down
some by-place, and give vent to his soul
in accents like these: “Ah! me no
hear of Christian’s God dat pay de
debt; me walk, walk, day, day, but me
no hear. White man tell me in Africa,
go to England, but me no find; me go
back, me die dere.” He saw some
people on the Sabbath going into a large
house, which he concluded was the
temple of the Christian’s God; he fol-
lowed them; he heard a sermon, but
he heard nothing about Christ. It was
all unintelligible to him, and he still
remained the subject of despondency,
and still went mourning about. A
gentleman accidentally overheard him
one day, while he was complaining to
himself of his unsuccessful inquiry after
the Christian’s God. He spoke to him,
and directed him to go to such a place
that evening, and there he would hear
of the Christian’s God. He went. and

‘an 4-_
heard a sermon by that gentleman, on
the suretiship of Christ, in which he
described sin as a debt, and Christ as
paying it, and the price he paid, and
that he was ascended up to heaven, and
had sent him, the preacher, to say to
all, “ Come unto me all ye that labor,”
&c. Long before he came to the close
of his sermon, the Spirit of God had
been pleased to touch the heart of the
poor negro, and to enlighten his mind ;
he started up in the pew, but without
making a noise, and in a whispering
tone was heard to say, while he clasped
his hands together, and the tears ran
down his sable cheeks, “ Me have
found Him! me have found Him! the
Christian’s God dat pay de debt!”
After the meeting the minister had some
further conversation with him, and was
rejoiced at the state of his mind. An
opportunity was afterward taken to send
him to Africa.
83. CHRISTIANITY, CHARACTER OF.
ta) THE FIRST HOSPITAL.-—
The first hospital for the reception of
the diseased and the infirm was founded
at Edessa, in Syria, by the sagacious and
provident humanity of a Christian father.
The history of this memorable founda-
tion is given by Sozomen, in his ac-
count of Ephrem Syrus.
A grievous famine, with all its inse-
parable evils, having befallen the city
of Edessa, its venerable deacon, at the
call of suffering humanity, came forth
from the studious retirement of his cell,
whither he had long withdrawn, that
he might devote his latter days to me-
ditation on the deep things of God. Fill-
ed with emotion at the sight of the mi-
sery which surrounded him, with the
warmth of Christian charity, he reprov-
ed the rich men of Edessa, who suffered
their fellow-citizens to perish from want
and sickness; and who preferred their
wealth, at once, to the lives of others,
and to the safety of their own souls.
Stung by his reproaches, and awed by
his revered character, the citizens re-

plied, that they cared not for their
wealth; but that, in an age of selfish-
ness and corruption, they knew not
whom to intrust with its distribution.
“ What,” exclaimed the holy man, “ is
your opinion of me '2” The answer
was instant and unanimous: Ephrem
was every thing that was holy, and
good, and just. “ Then,” he resumed
“I will be your almoner. For your
sakes,I will undertake this burden.”
And receiving their new willing con-
tributions, he caused about three hun-
dred beds to be placed in the public por-
ticoes of the city, for the reception of
fever patients: he relieved, also, the
famishing multitudes who flocked into
Edessa, from the adjoining country;
and rested not from his labor of love un-
til the famine was arrested, “and the
plague was stayed.”
Christianity, therefore, has the honor
of erecting the first hospital; and wher-
ever true Christianity has prevailed,
her efforts to relieve the wretched, and
add to the amount of human happiness
188
CHRISTIANITY,
CHARACTER OF. 83

have accomplished more in one genera-
tion, than paganism or infidelity in a
hundred.
(b) CHRISTIANITY AND HEA-
THENISM.——-The language of God’s
word is, “Thou shalt not kill; thou
shalt not commit adultery; thou shalt
not steal ; thou shalt not bear false wit-
ness ; thou shalt not covet.” Now
where is there such a code of morality
to be found in all the systems of ancient
or modern heathen philosophers or po-
liticians? Lycurgus ordained that in-
fants who were deformed or weak,
should be destroyed; but God’s word
says, “ Thou shalt not kill.” Lycur-
gus taught his pupils to steal, and re-
warded those who could steal in such an
artful manner as not to be detected;
but the Bible says, “Thou shalt not
steal.”
Aristippus maintained that it was no
harm “to steal, commit adultery and
sacrilege ; setting aside the Vulgar opi-
nion concerning them.” The Grecians
and many of the ancients practised in-
cest ; that is, a man could marry his own
sister ; and they pretended to derive this
practice from gods, feigning that Jupi-
ter married his own sister Juno. Hence
many of their great men practised it,
such as Cimon, Alcibiades, Darius the
Persian, Ptolemy of Egypt, and others;
but Moses said, “ Thou shalt not marry
one that is near akin to thee,” and St.
Paul required the incestuous person to
be punished. The laws of Solon al-
lowed of “ brothels and prostitution ;”
but Moses said, “There shall be no
harlot in Israel ;” and were the princi-
ples of this book attended to, there would
be none in Christendom. The polite
and learned nations of the Greeks and
Romans, very generally permitted the
custom of exposing infants, and Romu-
lus allowed the Romans to destroy all
their female children except the oldest,
and even their males if they were de-
formed. “These practices were com-
mon among them, and celebrated at
their theatres.”
They also had gladiatorial shows in
which slaves were obliged to fight with
each other, till one or the other fell,
mangled with wounds. And so great
was the rage for this sport, among both

—-

sexes, that no war is said to have been
so destructive. Lipsius tells us, “that
the gladiatorial shows cost '20 or 30
thousand lives a month, and thus conti-
nued for a long course of years, must
have destroyed more lives than the ra-
vages of their wars.”
(0) THE BURMAN’S IMPRES.
SION.-—Mrs. Judson, giving some ac-
count in a letter, of the first Burman
convert, says :—A few days ago I was
reading with him Christ’s sermon on the
Mount. He was deeply impressed, and
unusually solemn. “ These woros,"
said he, “ take hold on my very heazt ;
they make me tremble. Here God
commands us to do every thing that is
good in secret, not to be seen of men.
How unlike our religion is this ! I/Vhen
Burmans make offerings at the pagodas,
they make a great noise with drums
and musical instruments, that others
may see how good they are; but this
religion makes the mind fear God; it
makes it, of its own accord, fear sin.”
(cl) THE INFIDEL AND THE
ORPHAN SCHOOL.—A mechanic in
London, who rented a room very near
the Orphan Working School, was un-
happily a determined infidel, and one
who could confound many a thoughtless
Christian with his sophistical reasonings
on religion. He, one day, however,
said to another man, “I did this morn-
ing what I have not done for a long time
before ; I wept.” “ VVept l” said his
friend; “ what occasioned you to
weep Cl” “ I/Vhy,” replied the infidel
mechanic, “I wept on seeing the child-
ren of the Orphan Working School pass ;
and it occurred to me, that if religion
had done nothing more for mankind, it
had at least provided for the introduction
of these ninety-four orphans into respect-
able and honorable situations in life.”
(e) BYRON’S CONFESSION.—-
“ Indisputably,” says Lord Byron, “ the
firm believers in the gospel have a great
advantage over all others, for this sim-
ple reason, that if true, they will have
their reward hereafter ; and if there be
no hereafter, they can be but with the
infidel in his eternal sleep, having had
the assistance of an exalted hope through
life, without subsequent disappointment,
since, at the worst for them, ‘out of
1B9
83 CHRISTIANITY,
CHARACTER OF.
nothing, nothing can arise,’ not even
sorrow.”
THE TREE JUDGED BY
ITS FRUIT.—Vl’hen Mr. Gutzlaff, in
his third voyage to China, went on shore
for the first time at a particular place, the
people were distrustful, and some of
them hinted that the Christian books
merely contained the doctrines of West-
ern barbarians, which were quite at
variance with the tenets of the Chinese
sages. Mr. G. did not undertake to
contest this point with them, but pro-
ceeded to administer relief to a poor
man who was almost blind ; thus show-
ing the spirit and conduct which the
gospel inculcates. The man was af-
fected with this unexpected kindness,
and, turning towards Mr. G., said,
“ Judging from your actions, your doc-
trines must be excellent; therefore I
beseech you give me some of your
books ; though I myself cannot read, I
have children who can.” “ From this
moment,” says Mr. G., “the demand
for the word of God increased, so that I
could never pass a hamlet without be-
ing importuned by the people to impart
to them the knowledge of divine things.
In the wide excursion which I took,I
daily witnessed the demand for the word
of God.”
(g) LORD BACON’S OPINION.
-——Lord Bacon, towards the latter end
of his life, said, that a little smattering
of philosophy would lead a man to
Atheism, but a thorough insight of it
will lead a man back again to a first
cause, and that the first principle of
right reason is religion; and seriously
professes, that, after all his studies and
inquisitions, he durst not die with any
other thoughts than those of religion,
taught, as it is professed, among the
Christians.
th) LORD CHESTERFIELD’S
REPLY TO AN INFIDEL LADY.
—Infidels should never talk of our giv-
ing up our Christianity, till they can
propose something superior to it. Lord
Chesterfield’s answer, therefore, to an
infidel lady, was very just. When at
Brussels he was invited by Voltaire to
sup with him and Madame C. 'Il.e
conversation happening to turn upon the
affairs of England, “ I think, my Lord,’
said Madame C., “that the parliamen
of England consists of five or six hun-
dred of the best informed men in the
kingdom '2”
“ True, madame, they are generally
supposed to be so.”
“ VVhat then can be the reason they
tolerate so great an absurdity, as the
Christian religion '2” “I suppose, ma-
dame,” replied his lordship, “ it is be.
cause they have not been able to sub-
stitute any thing better in its stead;
when they can, I do not doubt but in
their wisdom they will readily adopt it.”
(i) GIBBON’S TESTIMONY.—-
“While the Roman empire,” says Gib-
bon, “was invaded by open violence,
or undermined by slow decay, a pure
and humble religion greatly insinuated
itself into the minds of men, grew up in
silence and sobriety, derived new vigor
from opposition, and finally erected the
banner of the cross on the ruins of the
capital.”
Again, he says, “the Christian reli-
gion is a religion that diffuses among
the people a pure, benevolent, and
universal system of ethics, adapted
to every condition in life, and recom-
mended as the will and reason of the
Supreme Deity, and enforced by the
sanction of eternal rewards and punish-
ments.”
THE MALAY’S TEST OF
HONESTY.—A New England sea-
captain, who visited “India beyond the
Ganges,” was boarded by a Malay
merchant, a man of considerable pro-
perty, and asked if he had any tracts
which he could part with. The
American, at a loss how to account for
such a singular request from such a
man, inquired, “What do you want of
tracts'2 you cannot read a word of
them.” “True, but I have a use for
them, nevertheless. Whenever one of
your countrymen, or an Englishman,
calls on me to trade, I put a tract in his
way, and watch him. If he reads it
soberly and with interest, I infer that
he will not cheat me; if he throws it
aside with contempt, or a profane oath,
I have no more to do with him-—I can-
not trust him.”

190
CHURCH, JOINING THE.
84
‘ \_J_—-_-'.__—--—-
81. CHURCH, JOINING THE.
(a) THE DELAYED BAPTISM.
-—A young man, by the name of Henry
T., from England, was converted in
Dartmouth, Mass., about 1835. Before
his conversion, he was a very intem-
perate, profane, abandoned man. His
exercises in conversion were marked and
clear; and he soon made application
for admission into the church. But it
fared worse with him than it fared with
Saul when he came to Damascus:
Christians were not only afraid of him,
but they thought he had better wait a
month, till the next covenant meeting.
They were inclined to think he would
turn back to his cups. But he mani-
fested a Christian spirit, and determined
not to forsake his brethren or neglect
any of the public or private duties of
religion. The next covenant meeting
came, and Mr. T., full of hope, present-
ed himself for admission again. The
confidence of the brethren in the
genuineness of his change was decided-
ly increased by his conduct during the
month ; but owing to his former habits,
some of the brethren hesitated about
having him baptized, and they put him
off another month. He said he felt
anxious to be soon baptized, for he said
he might die without receiving the
ordinance; still he would patiently sub-
mit to the church’s decision, and per-
severe in doing duty. And he did; he
was a regular attendant upon public
worship; on conference and prayer
meetings, and in the latter took a regu-
lar and active part. Indeed he often
told how much he loved his brethren-—
those who were so suspicious of him.
Another month passed, and another
application was made. His conduct
nad been so exemplary as to secure
the confidence of the minister, and all
me members of the church in his
steadfastness, but that of one of the
deacons. He alone objected. VV hen
Mr. T. was told he must wait one month
longer, he was deeply grieved. “But,”
said be, “if you never receive me I
shall love you still!” This he said as
he went out and closed the door.

“ That is too much for me,” said the
deacon; “call him back.” He was
called back, received a unanimous vote,
and united with the church. By pur-
suing such a course, by overcoming the
temptation to quit the church, he had
gained the confidence of the church,
and confidence in himself; and a can-
didate is rarely found more happy than
he was, when baptized and received
into the fellowship of the saints. He
proved to be a happy and steadfast
Christian.
(b) A FATHER CONVERTED.—-
A few years since, says a correspon-
dent of the N ew-York Evangelist, dur-
ing a powerful revival in New Eng-
land, the Holy Spirit exerted its mighty
influence upon a family circle con-
sisting of a father, a mother, and five
most interesting children. The mother
and her five children were hopefully
converted. The father, who was nat-
urally one of the most amiable, retiring,
modest men with whom I ever was
acquainted, aided his family in attend-
ing the numerous meetings, and was
not unfrequently seen bowed down and
trembling under the power of truth.
Still the conversions of his wife and
children, in rapid succession, were like
so many earthquake shocks to the foun-
dations on which his false hopes had so
long rested. But neither the affecting
scenes of their distress, nor the ecsta-
sies of their subsequent joy, could melt
his heart into contrition. He now felt
that he was groping in a dark path, and
in wretched loneliness; he who should
have been the leader of a pious house-
hold was left far behind, a subject of
prayer, and an occasion of grief to the
circle around him. Thus he remained
for weeks.
Ere long preparations were made for
gathering the fruits of the revival into
the church, and a day appointed for the
examination of candidates. The mother
and her five children, with some sixty
others, came before the church, and
were propounded for admission into its
pale. As the day of admission drew
191
84
CHURCH, JOINING THE.
near, the father, who had watched their
movements with much concern, ex-
pressed his regret to his wife that they
should make a profession of religion at
present, and requested that they should
wait for him. The mother, deeply
moved, solicited advice of the pastor
and other friends; but, after due delib-
eration, it was concluded that the path
of their duty was plain, and that they
were bound to follow Christ. With
unusual decision and firmness they re-
solved to do so. As soon as he knew
their decision, he became more earnest
in his remonstrances, and used every
possible argument, especially with the
mother, to dissuade her from her pur-
pose, but in vain. He soon changed
his tone of entreaty into that of fearful
threatening, warning his wife if she had
any affection for him, any regard for
the peace of the family, to desist from
her purpose and wait for him. “ No,”
saic the martyr-like woman, “I love
you most tenderly, but I love Christ
more. I have waited for you for more
than twenty years, and now I shall do
my duty, and as to the consequences I
will leave them with God.”
At the close of this interview, which
took place Saturday evening, he took
his hat, and uttering some threats, left
the house, as if never to return to his
family again. It was a painful night
to mother and children. Might he not
become the victim of lasting mania, or
in his rage and disappointment sudden-
ly destroy himself '2 As it afterwards
appeared, he retired to his barn, threw
himself on the hay-mow, (it being mid-
summer,) and there rolled and strug-
gled like a wild beast in the net. An
awful warfare was waging between an
awakened conscience and adesperately
rebellious heart. He could not, would
not submit. Sabbath morning came-
the family, with trembling anxiety for
the absent father, prepared to go to the
house of God ; but, just before the hour
of service, his feelings drove him from
his hiding place. He was safe, but still
unhumbled. He again inquired of his
Wife if she remained fixed in her pur-
pose, and finding she did, he left the
house with dreadful signs of rebellion,
throwing out some intimations that he

‘ _-I-.
never should return-—-that fearful con
sequences might be anticipated. He
was soon out of sight, but no out of
mind. The family departed; and the
father, finding his threats unavailing
returned to his house, prepared his per-
son with despatch, and was soon seen
placed in the gallery in a situation
favorable for witnessing the ceremony
he had opposed so vainly. And when
the ceremony of reception took place,
and the father looked down and saw
his wife and five children, with the rest,
kneel around the altar, he burst into
tears, and his agitation was great. The
step was taken, and could not be re-
traced.
On retiring from the house he felt
that he was indeed alone. He began
to come to himself——to review the
dreadful rebellion of his heart which
recent events had brought to light. His
heart began to break; and in a few
hours his soul was made to rejoice in
that Savior whom he had so recently
persecuted. He now felt deeply thank-
ful that his wife had taken so decided
a course; and he considered her unit-
ing with the church, the means, in God’ s
hands, of leading him to repentance.
(0) THE AGED BLACKSMITH’S
TESTIMONY.--In the year 184-,
Mr. W., of R. I., related the following:
“ Thirty-four years agol thought God,
for Christ’s sake, pardoned my sins.
My wife and myself thought it duty to
follow Christ in baptism, and unite with
the people of God. The day arrived
on which we were to relate our experi-
ence to the church, with a view to be-
coming members. We were nearly
prepared to leave home, when a gentle-
man called, and wished to transact
some business with me. Itold my wife
to go on—I would be along soon. She
went, related her experience, was bap-
tized, and lived and died in the bosom
of the church. But I was detained
longer thanl expected to be, and found,
when ready to go, that it was too late.
Themext meeting for the purpose I was
again hindered by yielding to worldly
business; and by the third meetingl
had little inclination to go, and doubted
whether I was a Christian. Since then
you have heard me profane the name
192
(IIURCH, JOINING THE.
84
of God, and seen me neglect the house
of his worship. But there has never
been a single night that I have not,
when laying my head upon my pillow,
reflected upon the time of my redemp-
tion, and endured bitter remorse in
view of my disobedience. But the
feeling which I had on that afternoon,
has never returned. If I walk, I must
go in the dark. And new I am about
‘ fourscore years old,’ and had I the
world I would give it, for a return of
that impressive sense of my obligation
to God which should lead me to do the
long neglected duty. O! my friends,
as you value your soul’s interest, let no
earthly consideration prevent the imme-
diate discharge of duty.”
(d) THE HUSBAND’S CONVER-
SION.——A woman in Bow, N. H.,
was converted through the instrumen-
tality of an itinerant minister, and was
accordingly anxious to make a public
profession of religion by baptism. She
wished to have her spiritual father
preach in her house, and then adminis-
ter to her the ordinance. Accordingly she
suggested her feelings to her husband.
His hatred to the cross was already
roused by his wife’s conversion, and
this proposal kindled it to a fury.
“ No,” said he, “Mr. shall never
preach in my house.” “May he not
preach in the yard then '2” said she.
“No, there is no room for him in the
yard.” “ Well, I suppose you will let
us have the barn '2” “No, never, for
any such purpose.” “But we may go
into the orchard, perhaps ?” “ No, he
shall not preach any where upon my
premises.” “ Well, we will have the
meeting in the road then.” “If you
suffer him,” said the husband, “ to bap-
tize you, that breaks up our union;
you will never be allowed to enter this
house again. ’ The pious woman, how-
ever, was not in the least disposed to
yield to any such opposition, and she
gave her husband to understand it.
\Vhateve1 trials might await her, even
exile from her family, she stood pre-
pared to abide, rather than neglect her
duty and violate God’s commands. Her
husband found himself baffled. He
saw that she was actuated by a new
principle, a strong and sublime affection

for God and his word, to which she had
once been a stranger, and to which he
was still a stranger himself. His
mind sunk in deep and deeper distress.
One day she went up into her chamber,
perhaps to pour out her soul in secret
before God, when her husband was so
overcome by the force of his convictiom,
that he followed her, and desired her to
pray for him. They went to prayer 5
and as they rose up, and looked out
of the window, hey saw the before-men-
tioned itinerant minister approaching.
None could be more glad to see him
than was the persecuting husband now,
or more anxious for an interest in his
prayers. He directed him to the Sa-
vior, and presented him in the arms
of his faith before the throne. The
husband was now perfectly willing
to have the minister preach in the house,
which he did: and he was perfectly
willing that his wife should receive
baptism, but he wished her to wait a
short time, so that they both might re-
ceive the ordinance together. She con-
cluded to do so; and two or three
weeks after, they were both baptized
by the itinerant, on the same day, and
received into the fellowship of the
church.
(6) THE OPPOSING HUSBAND.
——VVhen the Rev. Mr. Morton was
settled in Manlius, New-York, the
church of which he was pastor met
together on Saturday afternoon for co-
venant meeting. A man and his wife
who were strangers to L\Ir. M., were
present 5 and being informed by one
of her friends that the lady would like
to be baptized, at a suitable time Mr.
M. called on her to relate her Christian
experience. As she arose to speak she
gave her child to her husband, who
immediately withdrew with it into the
yard before the door. The church
heard her narration, and received her
as candidate for the ordinance. On the
ensuing Sabbath she was baptized.
Mr. M. having learned that the woman’s
husband was offended with him, sought
an interview. In answer to the in-
quiry whether he was offended or no.
he replied to Mr. M. that he felt ver;
much offended with him, both for bap-
tizing his wife, and also because Mr.
13
193
84
CHURCH, JOINING '1 HE.
_

Morton had addressed all his discourse
to him that morning in the meeting-
house. Mr. M. replied firmly, “ In
baptizing your wife, sir, I had no busi-
ness to act according to your preferen-
ces, for I acted as God’s ambassador;
and I consider that you have no business
to say a word in opposition. Iknew
not that you had any objections to your
wife’s joining our church ; but ifl had,
that ought not to have prevented me
from doing my duty, nor your wife
from doing hers. As to my sermon this
morning, if it contained truth adapted
to your case, I hope you will apply it:
‘if the coat fits you, put it on I’ But I
advise you, sir, to go home and read
your Bible, and repent of your sins,
before your iniquity shall be your ruin.”
The opposer shrunk before Mr. M.’s
faithfulness, and the words sunk into
his heart.' Early the next Tuesday
morning, he came to Mr. Morton’s resi-
dence in great distress of mind. He
confessed that since the interview of
Sunday he had had no peace; and he
desired Mr. M.’s forgiveness and pray-
ers. He stated that he had kept his
wife awake all Saturday night, trying
to persuade and frighten her out of her
purpose of being baptized. But he
could not move her ; and now he wished
to be converted and go and do likewise.
Three weeks from that memorable Sab-
bath Mr. M. baptized him into the
fellowship of the church.
THE BANISHED DAUGH-
TER.—In the time of a revival in Har-
bor Creek, Pa., the daughter of an infidel
was happily converted, and on a Satur-
day afternoon related to the Baptist
church her Christian experience, and
was received as a canditate for baptism.
She was intending to be baptized on
the ensuing Sabbath, and in the morning
she made known her intention to her
infidel father. He told her angrily
that if she went into the water, he would
immediately banish her from his house.
After consulting with some of her
’._____‘--_. -_
friends, she concluded to defer ‘he
matter till some future occasion. At
the close of the afternoon service, Rhoda
Ann, for that was her name, repaired
to the water with the rest of the as-
sembly to witness the baptism of other
converts. After the last candidate was
immersed, the preacher addressed the
assembly, and urged any who might
feel it their duty, to relate their experi-
ence to the church, most of whom were
present; and, if the church so desired,
he would baptize any such persons be-
fore they left the water. One after
another acceded to his request, came
before the church, and were accepted
and baptized. At length Rhoda Ann
stepped forward, and exclaimed with
streaming eyes, “I believe it is better
to obey God than man!” There was
a moral sublimity in the thought and in
this new occasion of its utterance, that
must have wrought a most thrilling
impression upon every mind. Having
in a few words given an account of
God’s gracious dealings with her soul,
she too was received and buried with
Christ in baptism. On her return home,
she found her father absent; but when
he came in, some of the members of the
family told him of the step Rhoda had
taken. Turning to her, he said with
firmness, “ Rhoda, you remember what
I said to you this morning; you must
now quit my house.” Rhoda solicited
the privilege of taking away her clothes
and other things with her ; and having
permission, she soon gathered them to-
gether, bade her friends farewell, and
started forth upon her cruel exile, be-
tween sundown and dark. Soon after
she had gone out, her father opened the
door and called after her, “ Rhoda Ann,”
said he, “you may come back now. 1
want you to understand that I am to be
obeyed !”
Rhoda returned; but from that time
her father treated her, as she declared,
with greater kindness and tenderness
than ever.
194
COMMENTARIES--COMMUNION OF THE LORD’S SUPPER.
85, 86

85. COMMENTA RIES.
(:1) THE MISTAKEN DIVINES.-—
Rica, having been to visit the library of a
French convent, writes thus to his friend
in Persia, concerning what had passed :
“ Father,” said I to the librarian, “ what
are these huge volumes which fill the
whole side of the Hbrary ’?” “These,”
said he, “ are the interpreters of the
Scriptures.” “ There is a prodigious
number of them,” repliedl ; “ the Scrip-
tures must have been very dark formerly,
and be very clear at present. Do there
remain still any doubts’.2 Are there now
any points contested '5” “ Are there !”

answered he with surprise, “ are there
There are almost as many as there
are lines.” You astonish me,” said I;
“ what then have all these authors been
doing '2” “ These authors,” returned
he, “ never searched the Scriptures for
what ought to be believed, but for what
they did believe themselves. They did
not consider them as a book wherein
were contained the doctrines which they
ought to receive, but as a work which
might be made to authorize their own
ideas.”
86. COMMUNION OF THE LORD’S SUPPER.
(a) COL. GARDINER’S ENJOY-
MENT.—A more devout communi-
cant at the table of the Lord, says Dr.
Doddridge, in his life of Colonel Gardin-
er, has, perhaps, seldom been any
where known. Often have I had the
pleasure to see that manly countenance
softened into all the marks of humilia-
tion and contrition on these occasions:
and to discern, in spite of all his efforts
to conceal them, streams of tears flow-
ing down from his eyes, while he has
been directing them to those memorials
of his Redeemer’s love. And some,
who have conversed intimately with him
after he came from that ordinance, have
observed a visible abstraction from sur-
rounding objects, by which there seem-
ed reason to imagine that his soul was
wrapped up in holy contemplation.
And I particularly remember, that when
we had once spent a great part of the
following Monday in riding together, he
made an apology to me for being so ab-
sent as he seemed, by telling me that
his heart was flown upwards, before he
was aware, to Him whom having not
seen he loved ; and he was rejoicing in
him with such unspeakable joy, that
he could not hold it down to creature
converse.

(Z2) LAYING ASIDE A CROWN.
—At the coronation of his Majesty
George III, after the anointing was over
in the Abbey, and the crown put upon
his head with great shouting, the two
archbishops came to hand him down
from the throne to receive the sacra.
ment. His majesty told them he would
not go to the Lord’s Supper, and par-
take of that ordinance, with the crown
upon his head : for he looked upon him-
self, when appearing before the King
of kings, in no other character than in
that of a humble Christian. The bi-
shops replied, that although there was
no precedent for this, it should be com-
plied with. Immediately he put off his
crown, and laid it aside: he then de-
sired that the same should be done with
respect to the queen. It was answered,
that her crown was pinned on her head,
that it could not be easily taken off; to
which the king replied, “ Well, let it be
reckoned a part of her dress, and in no
other light.” “ When I saw and heard
this,” says the narrator, “ it warmed my
heart towards him ; and I could not
help thinking, that there would be some-
thing good found about him towards the
Lord God of Israel.
(0) CHILDREN PRESENT.——TI:e
195
56, 8'7
COMPANY, EVIL.

P--—u
Rev. John Brown, in a narrative of his
experience, remarks, “ l reflect on it as
a great mercy, that I was born in a
family which took care of my Christian
instruction, and in which I had the
privilege of God’s worship, morning
and evening. About the eighth year of
my age, I happened, in a crowd, to push
into the church at Abernethy. on a
Sacrament Sabbath. Before I was ex-
cluded, I heard a minister speak much in
commendation of Christ; this, in a
sweet and delightful manner, captivated
my young afi“ections, and has since
made me think that children should
never be kept out of church on such
occasions.”
(cl) THE COMMUN ION PRO-
FANED.—In a speech in the House
of Lords, in 1719, Lord Lansdowne
said, “ The receiving of the Lord’s Sup-
per was never intended to be as a quali-
fication for an oflice ; but as an open
declaration of one’s being and remain-
ing a sincere member of the church of
Christ. Whoever presumes to receive
it with any other view, profanes it, and
may be said to seek his promotion in
this world, by eating and drinking his
own damnation in the next.”
(e) THE ESQUIMAUX COM-
MUNICANTS.—“We can truly say,”
observes a Moravian missionary, “that
among the very considerable number of
Esquimaux who live with us, we know
of few who are not seriously desirous
to profit by what they hear, and to ex-
perience and enjoy themselves, that
which they see their countrymen pos-
sess. Our communicants give us
pleasure; for it is the wish of their

.—...—-
very hearts to live unto the Lord, and
their conduct affords proofs of the sin
cerity of their professions; thus for ex-
ample, Esquimaux sisters, who have no
boat of their own, venture across bays
some miles in breadth, sitting behind
their husbands, on their narrow kajacks,
in order to be present at the holy sacra-
ment, though at the peril of their lives.’ ’
VVhat a lesson is this for those who live
near, and make anybtrifling thing an
excuse!
COLONEL GARDINER’S
PREPARATION.—Colonel Gardiner,
in a letter, mentions the pleasure with
which he had attended a preparation
sermon the Saturday before the dispen-
sation of the Lord’s Supper. He writes,
“I took a walk on the mountains over
against Ireland ; and I persuade myself,
that were I capable of giving you a de-
scription of what passed there, you
would agree that I had much better
reason to remember my God from the
hills of Port-Patrick, than David from
the land ofJordan, and of the Hermon-
ites from the hill Mizar. In short,l
wrestled some hours with the Angel of
the covenant, and made supplications to
him with floods of tears and cries, until
I had almost expired ; but he strength-
ened me so, that like Jacob, I had pow-
er with God and prevailed. You will
be more able to judge of this, by what
you have felt yourself, upon the like
occasions. After such a preparatory
work, I need not tell you how blessed
the solemn ordinance of the Lord’s
Supper proved to me ; I hope it was so
to many.”
87. COMPANY, EVIL.
(a) BURGLARY AND DEATH.-
A poor boy, who had been educated in
the Stockport Sunday school, England,
conducted himself so well, and made
fl1ch great proficiency in learning, that
he was appointed teacher of one of the
junior classes. About this time his fa-
ther died, and his mother, reduced to in-
digent circumstances, sent him to one

of the cotton factories. Here he met
with boys of his own age, who were
hardened in sin. Through the force
of their evil example he lost, by de-
grees, all his serious impressions; and
having thrown off the fear of God, be-
came addicted to intemperance and the
commission of petty thefts. His disso-
lute conduct soon led him into the armv.
196
COMPAY, EVIL.
S7
\_
The regiment was sent to Spain, where
his habit of excessive drinking was
confirmed; and not satisfied with the
advantages he reaped as the fruits of
many victories, he plundered the inno-
cent and peaceful inhabitants. On the
close of the war in the peninsula, he
returned home with his regiment: and
soon after landing on the coast of Hamp-
shire, he, with others of his compan-
ions, whose principles he had vitiated,
broke into several houses ; till at length
he was detected, arraigned at the tribu-
nal of justice, and condemned to an igno-
minious death at the age of twenty-one.
(Z2) REMORSE AND SUICIDE.-—
In the year 1832, died in Essex, En-
gland, under very painful circumstances,
a young man who had once promised
to be happy and useful. He was ap-
prenticed to a respectable shopkeeper,
who insisted on his always being at
home by a certain hour in the evening.
For some time he appeared very atten-
tive to his business, and was useful to
his master ; but he unhappily acquired
the habit of walking about the streets
in an evening, and soon after formed
very improper connexions at a public
house. He was seriously admonished,
and at times appeared to feel the impro-
priety of his conduct; but the sins ‘he
cherished hardened his heart, and his
irregularities became confirmed. At
length, his master, on returning from a
journey, heard complaints of his con-
duct, which led him to threaten that un-
less his conduct was altered, he would
cancel his indentures. He now felt
that his sins were hastening him to the
ruin against which he had often been
warned; he had lost alike the confi-
dence of his master and his parents.
Stung by the convictions of his guilt,
he repaired to his room, when he knew
that he would be expected at dinner,
and committed suicide; thus rushing
into the presence of his Judge uncalled,
and every way unprepared. Who can
conceive the acuteness of his anguish,
when he found himself in the presence
of that God whose laws he had tram-
pled under his feet, but from whose
wrath he found it impossible to escape!
(c) BLAIR’S EXTREMES—-Mr.
Robert Blair, in a memc.i1' of his life,

-_ _ -_
written by himself, says, “That year,
(1616,) having, upon an evening, beer
engaged III company with some ine.
ligious persons, when I returned to my
chamber, and went to my ordinary de-
votion, the Lord did show so much dis-
pleasure and wrath, that I was driven
from prayer, and heavily threatened to
be deserted of God. For this I had a
restless night, and resolved to spend the
next day in extraordinary humiliation,
fasting and prayer; and toward the
evening of that day, I found access to
God, with sweet peace. through Jesus
Christ, and learned to beware of such
company; but then I did run into ano-
ther extreme of rudeness and incivility
toward such as were profane and irreli-
gious, so hard a thing is it for short-
sighted sinners to hold the right and the
straight way.”
(d) JUDGE BULLER’S CAU-
TION.—-Judge Buller, when in the
company of a young gentleman of six-
teen, cautioned him against being led
astray, by the example or persuasion of
others, and said, “If I had listened to
the advice of some of those who called
themselves my friends when I was
young, instead of being a Judge of the
King’s Bench, I should have died long
ago a prisoner in the King’s Bench.”
(e) ELLIOT’S ADVICE. — The
Rev. John Elliot, styled The Apostle of
the Indians, was once asked by a pious
woman, who was vexed with a wicked
husband, and bad company frequently
infesting her house on his account, what
she should do ? “ Take,” said he, “ the
Holy Bible into your hand when bad
company comes in, and that will soon
drive them out of the house.”
A GOOD EXPEDIENT.——A
pious ofiicer of the army, travelling
through the Mahratta country, was ask-
ed by Judge D , a religious gentle-
man, to accompany him to a public
dinner, at which the commanding
oflicer of the district, with all his staff,
and various other public characters,
were expected to meet.
“ I expressed a wish to be excused,"
says the ofiicer;“ as I had then no relish
for such entertainments, and did not
think that much either of pleasure or
profit was to be derived from them."

197
88
CONFERENCE MEETINGS.

His reply was-—“\/Vhile I feel it my
duty to attend on such an occasion,I
certainly have as little pleasure in it as
you have. But there is one way in
which I find I can be present at such
meetings, and yet receive no injury
from them. I endeavor to conceive to

.'
myself the Lord Jesus seated on the
opposite side of the table, and to think
what he would wish me to do and to
say, when placed in such a situation,
and as long as I can keep this thought
alive on my mind, I find I am free
from danger.” .
88. CONFERENCE MEETINGS.
(a) MY BRETHREN, THE LORD
IS GOOD.—It is not necessary in our
meetings for conference and prayer,
that a Christian should speak with a
high degree of ability and talent, in
order to be a benefit to the meeting.
An exhortation with little logical con-
nexion or rhetorical beauty about it,
poured from a feeling heart, has often
produced more deep and powerful im-
pressions than the most elaborate ad-
dresses. A few words even, from a weak
and trembling disciple, have frequently
done more execution than a long dis-
course from others.
There was a feeble stammering bro-
ther in the southern part of Connecticut,
who deemed his gift so small that he
usually kept silent in religious meetings.
But on one occasion, in the midst of a
revival, his emotions were so strong
that he could not keep his seat‘. He
rose to give his feelings vent; but all
the stammerer could say, was, “MY
BRETHREN, THE Loan is soon,” and
then sat down. But his words fell with
power on the hearts of those present,
thrilled them like an electric stroke,
and gave a fresh and lively interest to
the meeting.—~Who could not say as
much!
(b) THE ELECTRIFYING SEN-
TENCE.—-In a prayer-meeting, held
several years since, in W , Rhode
Island, a person arose, and holding up
his right hand, exclaimed, “I am on
the Lord’s side.” The speaker said no
more, and as it would seem, felt unable
to do so. But the effect was magical.
There was an eloquence in that simple
sentence and the man ner of its utterance,

that went home to the minds and bosoms
of all present, with kindling, melting
energy. Such a happy and lasting
impression was produced, that years
afterwards it was mentioned again and
again, by different persons, to a pastor
who was newly settled in the place.
(0) DULL CONFERENCE MEET-
INGS.-—Before I knew any thing ex-
perimentally of religion, said a young
convert in Rhode Island, I used often
to attend conference and prayer-meet-
ings, and when Christians were engaged
and the time improved, I could not but
be interested and carry away impres-
sions strongly in favor of religion. But
when they spoke of its being a heavy
cross for them to speak or pray before
others, I could not understand them.
It seemed that if I were such as they
professed to be, it would be no cross to
me, but a pleasure. And when Iat-
tended social meetings where the exer-
cises dragged heavily, I felt uninterest-
ed—displeased. As I went away from
such meetings, my mind was darkened
with skeptical suspicions and doubts.
Can these Christians, thought I, have
such joy in religion, such love for
Christ, as they sometimes express, and
yet be so backward and silent? Is their
fountain of enjoyment so poor, so in-
constant as this’.2 How much can such
a religion be worth’.2 Can there be
any thing divine and substantial in it’.2
This would be the course of my reflec-
tions; such lifeless services not only
destroyed my interest i11 attending such
meetings, but shook my confidence in
professors of religion, and in religion
itself!
195
JONFESSION-CONFESSION OF SIN.
89, 9(‘

CONFESSION.
89 Noble Examples of Confession.
(a) Dr. JOHNSON’S CONFES-
SION.-—Ignorant people are generally
positive and assuming; and, even when
they find themselves in an error, are too
proud to acknowledge it; but those who
are truly wise, have learned that they
are also fallible; they rejoice in an
opportunity of having an error corrected,
and they can afford to acknowledge it,
without risking all their reputation, or
any of it, with persons of real judgment.
The celebrated Dr. Johnson, one of
the most learned men that England
ever produced, one night, rather late,
had a dispute in conversation with a
Mr. Morgan. Johnson had the wrong
side, but did not give up ; in short, both
kept the field. Next morning, when
they met in the breakfast room, Dr.
Johnson, with great candor, accosted
Mr. Morgan thus: “Sir, I have been
thinking on our dispute last night ; you
were in the right.”
(1)) VVASHINGTON’S CONFES-
SION.-—-VVashington, when stationed
in early life at Alexandria, with a
regiment under his command, grew
warm at an election, and said some-
thing offensive to a Mr. Payne, who,
with one blow of his cane, brought him
to the ground. On hearing of the
insult, the regiment, burning fbr re-

venge, started for the city ; but VVash-
ington met them, and begged them, by
their regard for him, to return peaceably
to their barracks. Finding himself in
the wrong, he nobly resolved to make
an honorable reparation, and next morn-
ing sent a polite note requesting Payne
to meet him at the tavern. Payne
took it for a challenge, and went in
expectation of a duel; but what was
his surprise to find instead of pistols, a
decanter of wine on the table Wash-
ington rose to meet him, and <raid with
a smile, “ Mr. Pavne, to err is human ;
but to correct our errors is always
honorable. I believe I was wrong yes-
terday; you have had, I think, some
satisfaction ; and if you deem that
sufficient, here is my hand—let us be
friends.” Such an act few could resist;
and Payne became from that moment
through life, an enthusiastic friend and
admirer of Washington.
(0) LORD MANSFIELWS MAXIM.
—-This eminent udge was never asham.
ed of publicly retracting any wrong
opinion he had entertained, when once
convinced of his mistake. He used
frequently to say, probably after Dean
Swift, who has a similar passage in bi]
writings, “That to acknowledge you
were wrong yesterday, was but to la‘
the world know that you are wiser to
day than you were then.”
CON FESSION OF SIN.
HAPPY EFFECTS OF CONFESSION.
90. Proeures Peace of Mind.
(a) “I HAVE BEEN DRUNK.”-—
Confession of wrong accomplishes its
real object in proportion to its plain,
explicit declaration respecting the wrong
as committed. If the wrong is pub-
lic, let the confession be public; if
private, let the confession be also. A

member of a church in R town
ship, N. Y., had, according to the prac
tice of the times, been accustomed tc
indulge in the use of intoxicating
drinks. On one occasion he was so
overcome as to falter in his step and
stammer in his speech. A little time
after this, having awaked to a sense of
his spiritual declettsion, he came to the
church and made an apparently most
sincere and heart-broken confession.

199
OL 92
CONFESSION OF SIN.

He confessed coldness, worldly-mind
edness, neglect of prayer, neglect of
the church, and almost all manner of
backslidings. Yet he sat down without
any alleviation of his distress. Convic-
tion and anguish of spirit increased.
He confessed again, and still his troulle
increased. At three successive meet-
ings his tears and his sad countenance
added interest to his humiliating con-
fessions, and still his soul was the more
burdened. Finally he arose, and with
a full soul, sobbing aloud, said, “ I have
been drunk. I/Vill you forgive me '2”
The effect was electrical. Peace and
joy filled his soul, and the forgiveness
of his brethren and friends beamed on
every countenance. Such is the result
of a confession that covers the wrong.
91. Prevents Alienation.
(a) J. BRADFORD AND J.
¥VESLEY.—Joseph Bradford was for
some years the travelling companion
of Mr. Wesley, for whom he would
have sacrificed health and even life,
but to whom his will would never bend,
except in meekness. “Joseph,” said
Mr. Wesley, one day, “take these let-
ters to the post.” B. “I will take
them after preaching, sir.” W. “Take
them now, Joseph.” B. “I wish to
hear you preach, sir; and there will be
sufficient time for the post after ser-
vice.” W. “I insist upon your going
now, Joseph.” B. “I will not go at
present.” W. “You won’t !” B. “No,
sir.” I/V. “Then you and Imust part.”
B. “Very good, sir.” The good men
slept over it. Both were early risers.
At four o’clock the next morning, the
refractory helper was accosted with,
“Joseph, have you considered what I
said—-that we must part '2” B. “Yes,
sir.” W. “ And must we part '2” B.
“Please yourself, sir.” W. “ VVill you
ask my pardon, Joseph '2” B. “No,
sir.” VV. “You won’t'2” B. “No,
sir.” W. “Then I will ask your-5*,
Josepn.” Poor Joseph was instantly
melted; smitten as by the word of
Moses, when forth gushed the tears, like
the water from the rock. He had a
tender soul; and it was soon observed
when the appeal was made to the heart
instead ofthe head.

99. Subdues Enmity and Leads to Conversion
(a) AN ANGRY MAN CON.
VERTED.-—-A man of my acquaint-
ance, says Dr. Dwight, who was of a
vehement and rigid temper, had, many
years since, a dispute with a friend of
his, a professor of religion, and had been
injured by him. With strong feelings
of resentment, he made him a visit, for
the avowed purpose of quarrelling with
him. He accordingly stated the na-
ture and extent of the injury ; and was
preparing, as he afterwards confessed,
to lead him with a train of severe re-
proaches, when his friend cut him short
by acknowledging, with the utmost
readiness and frankness, the injustice
of which he had been guilty ; express-
ing his own regret for the wrong he had
done, requesting his forgiveness, and
proffering him ample compensation.
He was compelled to say that he was
satisfied, and withdraw, full of mortifi-
cation that he had been precluded from
venting his indignation, and Wounding
his friend with keen and violent re-
proaches for his conduct. As he was
walking homeward, he said to himself
to this effect: “There must be some-
thing more in religion than I have hith-
erto suspected. Were any man to
address me in the tone of haughtiness
and provocation with whichl accosted
my friend this morning, it would be im-
possible for me to preserve the equa-
nimity of which I have been a witness,
and especially with so much frankness,
humility, and meekness, to acknowledge
the wrong which Ihad done ; so readily
ask forgiveness of the man whom I had
injured ; and so cheerfully promise a
satisfactory recompense. I should have
met his anger with at least equal resent-
ment, paid him reproach for reproach,
and inflicted wound for wound. There is
something in this man’ s disposition which
is not in mine. There is something in the
religion which he professes, and which
I am forced to believe he feels; some-
thing which makes him so superior, so
much better, so much more amiable,
than I can pretend to be. The subject
strikes me in a manner to Which I have
hitherto been a stranger. It is high
time to examine it more thoroughly,
200
HEALS DIVISIONS AND PROMOTES REVIVALS.
I -1-'
92, 93

with more candor, and with greater so-
licitude also, than I have done hitherto.”
Erom this incident a train of thoughts
and emotions commenced in the mind
of this man which terminated in his
profession of the Christian religion, his
relinquishment of the business in which
he was engaged, and his consecration
cf himself to the ministry of the gospel.”
(b) THE QUA RRELSOME NEIGH-
BORS.-——In a small country town in
Massachusetts, there lived two wealthy
farmers, whose lands adjoined each
other. On some account or other, they
became involved in a lawsuit, which
both lessened their money, and promot-
ed a spirit of rancor towards each
other. After a time, one of these men
was convinced of the sinfulness of his
past conduct, when, yielding to the in-
fluence of the gospel, he became desi-
rous of reconciliation and friendship
with his neighbor. With a trembling
heart he rapped at the door of the man
he had offended, which he had not be-
fore entered for six years. Not sus-
pecting who it was, his neighbor invited
him in. He went in, took his seat,
acknowledged that he had in the affair
been much to blame, and entreated
forgiveness. The other was much
astonished, but maintained his high
ground. “I always knew you were
to blame, and I never shall forgive
you,” with much more to the same
purpose, was the reply given to him.
He again confessed his wrong, asked
the pardon of his neighbor, expressed a
hope that the Divine Being would for-
give him; and added, “ \/Ve have been
actuated by a wrong spirit; and we
shall be afraid to meet each other at
the bar of God, where we must soon
appear.” The other became a little
softened, and they parted.
The family, when left to themselves,
were filled with astonishment. But the
mystery was solved when they learned
that their neighbor had become a fol-
lower of Christ. “ What I” said the
farmer, “ is S—-— become a Christian’?
Why should he come and ask my for-
giveness? If religion will humble
such a man. it is surely a great thing.
He said, ‘ We shall be afraid to meet
each other at the bar of God.’ ” Such

reflections as these, with a conscious-
ness of his own ill conduct, occasioned
him great distress for several days.
At length, he could smother his feelings
no longer—he took his hat, and went
to see his once hated neighbor. As he
entered the door he received a cordial
welcome ; they took each other by the
hand, and burst into tears. He said, “ You
came to ask my forgiveness the other
day, but I find I have been a thousand
times worse than you.” They retired
and prayed together. They became
members of the same church, and lived
many years in uninterrupted harmony.
93. Heals Divisions and Promotes Rtvivals.
((1) DEACON P. AND SQUIRE
M.-—The following anecdote, says a
correspondent of the Baptist Repository,
occurred under the immediate observa-
tion of the writer:
A new settlement at the west, was
visited by a powerful revival of reli-
gion, and most of the heads of families,
with many of the youth, were hopefully
converted to God ; and in a vicinity
where the name of Jesus was hardly
known, unless in the way of blasphe-
my, but a short time before, a flourish-
ing church was now organized, and the
ordinances of the gospel instituted. A
commodious house of worship was soon
after erected, and a minister settled,
and every thing bore evidence of the
happy change with which the vicinity
had been visited. Among the subjects
of the recent work were two men, in
the prime of life, both possessing con-
siderable wealth and influence, upon
whom the church principally depended.
One of these, whom we shall call Mr.
P. was appointed deacon, and the other,
whom we shall denominate Squire M.,
with the assistance of the former, was
appointed to manage the secular con-
cerns of the society; and for the first
two years things passed on prosper-
ously, and to the mutual satisfaction of
all, while the Lord appeared to pour
out his blessing upon their efi‘orts. At
length, however, from some trifling
cause, a coldness or jealousy arose be-
tween these two persons, who were
regarded as pillars; and the church,
201
9-1
CON FESSION OF SIN.

aware of how much depended on their
efforts, attempted to reconcile them.
With regret, however, they saw their
efforts unavailing, as their hardness
towards each other continued to in-
crease, till at length they broke out into
an open quarrel. As their farms lay
contiguous to each other, new causes
of complaint were continually arising,
of a domestic nature, till the church
was finally constrained to interfere in
their difficulties. This, however, in-
stead of reconciling them, rather seem-
ed to add fuel to the fire, till they were
finally compelled to exclude them both
from their fellowship. Being now freed
from ecclesiastical restraint, they con-
tinued to carry on their quarrel in a
more open manner, and lawsuit after
lawsuit followed each other, till at
length they both appeared to become
weary of the contest, and for two suc-
ceeding years lived like the Jews and
Samaritans, not deigning even to speak
to each other.
The church, in the meantime, being
deprived of their aid, fell into a low
and desponding condition ; and despair-
ing of being able to support the preach-
ing of the gospel any longer, dismissed
their minister, and public worship was
finally abandoned altogether.
About this time Deacon P. being at
work alone in his field, began to reflect
in a serious manner upon his condition,
comparing it with what it had formerly
been, when he was in fellowship with
the church, and living in the line of
duty. This was perhaps the first time
in three years that he had commenced
a candid and impartial examination of
his own heart; and however he might
have sought to justify his conduct be-
fore others, he now saw himself awfully
guilty before God. Under a sense of
conscious guilt he raised his eyes to
heaven, and not only implored grace
to enable him to see, but also to per-
form his duty. Having at length set-
tled the question in his own mind, how
often and wherein he had offended in
the cause of difliculty before mentioned,
he turned his eyes towards Squire M.,
who also was at work in a neighboring
field, and soon came to the following
resolution :--“ If he has injured me, I

will leave him in the hands of a merci-
ful God ; but I will go to him, and
wherein I have injured him, I will fall
upon my knees before him and ask his
forgiveness.” N o sooner had he come
to this resolution, than leaving the in-
strument with which he was employed,
he sought the field where Squire M.
was at work, and, to the astonishment
of the latter, fell down before him, and
besought his pardon. Squire M. , though
somewhat moved at the spectacle, at
length replied very coldly, “I am very
glad Mr. P. to see you finally sensible
of your errors ; and must tell you that
it is no more than I have long expected
For seriously as you have injured me,
I could never fully divest myself of the
belief that you had once experienceo
religion, and therefore always conclud-
ed that the Lord would bring you some
day or other to own your fault,—-I for-
give you, though I must tell you that I
cannot altogether forget the manner in
which you have treated me.”
If Squire M. was less affected by his
acknowledgment than was expected by
the other, it did not disturb him; and
he returned to his labor in a more tran-
quil state of mind than he had experi-
enced in many a weary month. He
continued his employment alternately
weeping and rejoicing, till late in the
afternoon ; when happening to turn his
eyes towards the field where Squire M.
was at work, he saw him approaching;
and as he came still nearer, what was
his joy when he saw him bathed in a
flood of tears. He came up ‘to him,
and after seizing -his hand with a con-
vulsive grasp, he fell upon his knees
and exclaimed, “ My much injured
friend and brother, can you now forgive
me '2” After tenderly embracing each
other, and weeping and exchanging
forgiveness, they retired together to a
secret place, and there poured out their
united prayers before the throne of
mercy. On the following Sabbath they
went together to the house of God, and
made an humble confession to the
church from which they had been ex
cluded, and were again restored to fel
lowship. This seemed to inspire their
brethren with renewed confidence;
their former pastor was recalled, public
202
CONSCIENCE, POWER OF, WITH THE GUILTY.
93, 94


-_-p-_--’--_.
worship was again established, and
heaven itself seemed to smile upon their
efforts. An extensive revival soon
followed, many precious souls were
gathered in, and the two returning pro-
digals have since become, not only a
help and comfort to each other, but a
blessing to those with Whom they are
united.
(b) REV. MR. W. AND HIS
CHURCH.—Difliculty having arisen
in the Presbyterian church of R—,
N. Y., between the pastor and the peo-
ple, a council was called. Mr. W.
made out charges of slander against
five or six of his brethren, and procured
his witnesses. They also made out
charges against Mr. ‘V. for his im-
proper expressions concerning them.
But the council, soon after its organi-
zation, decided, for certain reasons, that
it was improper for them to act as a
council in the case, and so dissolved.
Thus the way to adjust the difficulties
of the church seemed hedged up. Rev.
Mr. L., of Auburn, now rose and deliv-
ered a solemn address to the church;
and his address was followed by a
moving scene. One of the brethren
who was complained of by Mr. ‘V. had
been to Sherburne, to engage Rev. Mr.
Truair, of that place, as an advocate.
In ‘that town God was pouring out his
Spirit; and Mr. D. returned convicted
of his errors. At this interesting‘ mo-
ment he came forward, took his pastor
by the hand, and made the most hum-
ble and melting confession of his faults.

Mr. W. as frankly forgave him, and
cordially embraced him as a friend and
brother. No sooner had he done this
than Mr. D. kneeled down and poured
out his soul in an appropriate, humble,
penitential prayer. Before he conclud-
ed, two-thirds of the audience were
bathed in tears. He was followed by
addresses and prayers from some of the
council; and then another was ready
to confess his faults, and then another,
to the last of the accused; each one
taking Mr. Walker by the hand, and
receiving forgiveness. He in turn
asked their forgiveness wherein he had
expressed himself improperly towards
them. Pardon was also asked of the
church, and cheerfully granted. This
opened the door for Mr. W.’s friends,
who, one after another, confessed what-
ever they had said, in an unchristian
manner, against the opposite party.
Thus two whole days, with the excep-
tion of time occupied in hearing two
sermons, was spent in mutual confes-
sion and forgiveness. Before the coun-
cil separated they took the papers
which contained the charges on both
sides, held them up to the view of the
audience, declared they were about to
make a burnt sacrifice of them, and
committed them to the flames. On the
evening of the second day, a conference
meeting was held, in which several
were so deeply impressed as to ask for
prayers. From that time a revival of
religion commenced. The above facts
occurred in R——- in 1819-20.
CONSCIENCE, POWER OF, WITH THE GUILTY.
94. In groundless Suspicious and Alarms.
(a)_ DRAWING A BOVV AT A
VENTURE.——A Christian minister,
writing in 1834, states, that it had been
long his practice previously to the com-
mencement of the assizes, which were
held in the town of his residence, to
preach a sermon applicable to that
solemn period. On one of these occa-
sions, his text was 2 Cor. 5: 10:

judgment seat of Christ 5 that every
one may receive the things done in his
body, according to that he hath done,
whether it be good or had.” A parti-
cular reference was made, in the course
of the sermon, to the solemn proceed-
ings of the judgment, that things done
here in darkness would then be brought
to light; and it was observed. " Per-
haps there are some present this morn-
ing who have been engaged in some
“ For we must all appear before the l dark, dishonest transaction, which the‘!
203
9-1
CON SCIENCE, POWER OF, WITH THE GUILTY.

—-

suppose is altogether unknown, and
will remain for ever concealed. Vain
supposition I Let them know that, even I
now, every thing relative to that deed is
fully exposed, and if unrepented of, will
cover them with disgrace and confusion
at the day of universal revelation ; God
will make their crimes to pass before them
and set them in order before their eyes.”
The next morning a gentleman called
on him and requested a private inter-
view, having something of importance
to communicate. Having adjourned to
a private apartment,‘ he said, “ My busi-
ness with you, sir, is, I confess, singu-
lar, and must appear strange. The
discourse you delivered last night has
produced an extraordinary impression
on Phebe T . She sent for me early
this morning, and most earnestly en-
lreated me to wait upon you, and to in-
tercede with you not to send the officers
*0 apprehend her, for the purpose of con-
ducting her to prison ; and the only clue
I can obtain from her to explain the
cause of her excitement is, that ‘you
Know it all.’ ”
It may be easily supposed that the
minister was astonished at such a com-
munication. The sentence in the ser-
rnon was an arrow from the bow drawn
at a venture, but it was guided by a
nand omniscient and powerful. He re-
plied to his friend, that as he knew of no-
thing against the person in question, he
was altogether at a loss to explain the
agitation of her mind ; but that he
might assure her she should have no
ofiicers to trouble her. He also request-
ed him to endeavor to find out the real
same of her distressful feelings.
Her subsequent statement of the case
was this:—On a dark evening of one
market-day, she had occasion to go out
for some article of food, and, in her way,
stumbled against something that lay in
the road: she turned back for a light,
and perceived it was a parcel of consi-
derable size, dropped from a cart. She
removed it to her apartment, and suf-
fered it to remain for some time without
making any inquiry respecting the
owner, for she was unable to read.
Curiosity excited her to acquaint her-
self with the contents of this parcel.
She soon found it consisted of various


articles of linen and woollen. Having,
like Eve, looked and admired, she was
tempted to take them for her own use;
and, by degrees, the parcel was consi-
derably diminished. No one knew but
herself—-except ONE, whose piercing
eye strikes through the shades of night!
and no one was likely to reproach her,
except the vicegerent of the Almighty
—her conscience! ‘
Phebe T was convx-.ced that
she had acted wrong; but, as confes-
sion alone is insufficient without repara-
tion, the next step was to find out the
owner of the parcel, in order to its be-
ing restored to him. The directior
soon discovered this, and the invoice for
warded with the goods helped to show
the deficiency. In a short time the
whole was made up, and forwarded to
the owner, without the omission of a
single article.
(bl “DID NOT HE SAY BEANS’?
—Two travellers put up for the night
at a tavern. Early in the morning they
absconded without reckoning with their
host, also stealing from him a bag of
beans. A few years after they passed
that road in company again. Again
they asked for lodgings at the same inn.
The identical landlord was yet at his
post. In the evening the landlord was
busy in one corner of the bar-room,
talking in a suppressed voice with one
of lis neighbors, about a swarm of bees.
His two dishonest guests were seated in
another part of the room, and indistinct-
ly hearing the talk about bees, one says
to the other, “ Did not he say beans ’?”
“ I think he did,” was the reply; and
quickly they were missing.
(0) A NIGHT WITH A DUEL-
LIST.—A duel was fought near the.
city of VVashington, under circum-
stances of peculiar atrocity. A dis-
tinguished individual challenged his re-
lative who was once his friend. Tln
challenged party having the ChOICt
of Weapons, named muskets, to be
loaded with buck-shot and slugs, and
the distance ten paces; avowing at
the same time his intention and desire
that both parties should be destroyed.
They fought. The challenger was
killed on the spot ; the murderer
escaped unhurt! Years afterwards, a

204


l. I
I
O I.
I‘! ,


IN CONFESSION AND REPARATION OF INJURIES.
.__.|
entleman was spending the winter in
Charleston. South Carolina, and lodged
at the same house with this unhappy man.
He was requested by the duellist one
evening, to sleep in the same room with
him, but he declined, as he was very
well accommodated in his own. On
his persisting in declining, the duellist
confessed to him that HE was AFRAID
TO SLEEP ALONE; and as a friend who
usually occupied the room, was absent,
he would esteem it a great favor if the
gentleman would pass the night with
him. His kindness being thus demand-
ed, he consented, and retired to rest in
the room with this man of fashion and
honor, who some years before had
stained his hands in the blood of a kins-
man. After long tossing on his un-
quiet pillow and repeated half-stifled
groans, that revealed the inward pangs
of the murderer, he sank into slumber,
and as he rolled from side to side, the
name of his victim was often uttered,
with broken words that discovered the
keen remorse that preyed like fire on
his conscience. Suddenly he would
start up in his bed with the terrible im-
pression that the avenger of blood was
pursuing him; or hide himself under
the covering as if he would escape the
burning eye of an angry God, that
gleamed in the darkness over him, like
lightning from a thunder cloud! For
him there was “ no rest, day nor night.”
Conscience, armed with terrors, lashed
him unceasingly, and who could sleep’.2
And this was not the restlessness of dis-
ease, the raving of a disordered intellect,
nor the anguish of a maniac struggling
in chains ! It was a man of intelligence,
education, health, and affluence, given
up to himself-—not delivered over to the
avenger of blood, to be tormented before
his time; but left to the power of his
own CONSCIENCE, suffering only what
every one may suffer who is abandoned
of God !
(d) LORENZO DOW AND THE
THlEF.—The celebrated itinerant
preacher, Lorenzo Dow, while travel-
ling on Sunday to the place where he
had an appointment to preach, in pass-
ing a house overheard a man who was
standing at the door, swearing bitterly.
Dow went up to him, and inquired the

94, 95
cause. The man answered that he had
an axe stolen the night before by some
person. “ Come along with me to the
meeting,” said the preacher, “ and I will
find your axe.” The man consented,
and when they arrived near the church,
Dow stopped and picked up a pretty
large stone, which he carried with him
into church, and laid upon the front of
the pulpit. The subject of his sermon
was very well fitted to his particular
object, and when in the middle of it, he
stopped short, took the stone in his
band, and raising with a threatening
attitude, said “ A man in tms neighbor-
hood had an axe stolen last night, and
if the person who stole it doesn’t dodge,
I will hit him on the forehead with this
stone,’ ’ at the same time making a violent
effort to throw it, when a person present
was observed to dodge his head violent-
ly; and it scarce need be added, proved
to be the guilty person!
(e) BESSUS AND THE BIRDS.
—Bessus, a native of Pelonia, in Greece,
being one day seen by his neighbors
pulling down some birds’ nests, and pas-
sionately destroying their young, was
severely reproved by them for his ill-
nature, and cruelty to those who seem-
ed to court his protection. He re.
plied, that their notes were to him in.
sufferable, as they never ceased twitting
him of the murder of his father.
95. In Confession and Reparation of In
juries.
(a) THE STOLEN SPOON RE-
TURNED.-—A well-dressed man call-
ed at the tavern of Mr. B., of \V., New
Hampshire, and asked the landlord
whether he kept that house a year be-
fore. Mr. B. told him he did. Then,
sir, said he, I want to speak to you
aside. The tavern keeper followed the
man into the farther part of his barn,
when, with shame depicted in his face,
and embarrassment in his manner, the
stranger took from his pocket a silver
spoon, and told him, that about a year
before he breakfasted at his house, and
stole the spoon he then held in his hand.
That he, soon after committing the theft.
mounted his horse and rode off; but had
not gone far before he was strongly in-
205
96, 96
CONSCIENCE, POVV ER OF, WITH THE GUILTY.

clined to return and replace the spoon
on the table; that fear of being seen
prevented his doing it. He rode on,
continually looking over his shoulder to
see if an officer was not in pursuit of
him. At length he alighted and buried
the spoon under the bridge, thinking
that by so doing he should escape de-
tection, and the landlord would not be
much injured by so small atheft. The
man went home to Connecticut; but
peace of mind he had lost, and could
not fin-d it again at home. After en-
during mental torment for a whole
year; he, “came to himself,” and re-
solved to return to New Hampshire, and
confess his fault, and make restitution.
The landlord asked the penitent stran-
ger if he was poor. He said he was
not—that he possessed a large estate, and
needed nothing this world afforded—
that now the spoon was restored, he
could breathe freely again, if the land-
lord would forgive him. The inn-keep-
er gave him his hand, and compelled
him to come in and tarry at his house
a night without expense.
(b) THE LONG DELAYED RES-
TITUTION.—The following remark.
able instance of the force of conscience
occurred, in 1835, in the neighborhood
of London. A lady, about thirty-eight
years of age, elegantly dressed, entered
the shop of Mr. —, a respectable pastry
cook, in a state of great mental excite-
ment, and inquired if Mr. -—were still
alive. On being answered in the
affirmative, she, in the most earnest
manner, begged to see him. Being en-
gaged in superintending the making of
some confectionery, he begged to be ex-
cused, and referred her to his daughter,
who, he said, would wait upon her.
The daughter immediately withdrew
with her into the parlor; when, after
sitting a few moments in silence, she
burst into a flood of tears. When she
became more composed, she stated, that
upwards of twenty years since, she
was a boarder at a highly respectable
boarding school in that neighborhood,
which school Mr. —- had for nearly forty
years supplied with pastry, etc.; and
while there, she was in the habit of
abstracting small articles from his tray,
unknown to the person who brought it.

__
She had now been married some years,
was the mother of six children, and in
the possession of every comfort this
world could afford ; but still the re-
membrance of her youthful sin had so
haunted her conscience, that she was
never happy. Her husband perceiving
her unhappiness, had, after many flruit.
less endeavors, at last got possession of
the cause, when he advised her, for the
easement of her conscience, to see if
Mr. -- were alive, and to make him or
his family a recompense; and as she
was going to leave London on the "ol-
lowing day, perhaps for ever, she had
then come for that purpose. Mr.——, on
being informed of the object of her visit,
told her not to make herself any lon-
ger unhappy, as she was not the only
young lady who had acted in that man-
ner. After begging his forgiveness,
which he most readily granted, she insist-
ed on his acceptance of a sum of money,
which she said, she believed was about
the value of the articles she had stolen ;
and after remaining about an hour, she
departed, evidently much happier.
96. In Confession and Voluntary Submis-
sion to Punishment
(a) THE JEWELLER AND HIS
SERVANT.—A jeweller, a man of
good character, and considerable wealth,
having occasion, in the way of business,
to travel some distance from his abode,
took along with him a servant: he had
with him some of his best jewels, and
a large sum of money, to which his ser-
vant was likewise privy. The master
having occasion to dismount on the road,
the servant watched his opportunity,
took a pistol from his master’s saddle,
and shot him dead on the spot; then,
rifling him of his jewels and money, and
hanging a large stone to his neck, he
threw him into the nearest canal. With
his booty he made off to a distant part
of the country, where he had reason to
believe that neither he nor his master
were known. There he began to trade,
in a very low way at first, that his
obscurity might screen him from obser-
vation ; and in the course of many
years seemed to rise up, by the natural
progress of business, into wealth and
206
—-
IN CONFESSION AND SUBMISSION TO PUNISHMENT.
96
consideration ; so that his good fortune
appeared at once the effect of industry
and the reward of virtue. Of these he
counterfeited the appearance so well,
that he grew into great credit, married
mto a good family, and, by laying out
his hidden stores discreetly, as he saw
occasion, and joining to all a universal
affability, he was at length admitted‘ to
a share of the government of the town,
and rose from one post to another, till
at last he was chosen chief magistrate.
In this office he maintained a fair char-
acter, and continued to fill it with no
small applause, both as governor and
judge; till one day, as he sat on the
bench with some of his brethren, a
criminal was brought before him who
was accused of murdering his master.
The evidence came out full; the jury
brought in their verdict that the prisoner
was guilty, and the whole assembly
awaited the sentence of the president
of the court (which happened to he
himself) in great suspense. Meanwhile
he appeared to be in unusual disorder
and agitation of mind ; his color chang-
ed often; at length he arose from his
seat, and, coming down from the bench,
placed himself just by the unfortunate
man at the bar, to the no small astonish-
ment of all present. “ You see before
you,” said he, addressing himself to
those who had sat on the bench with
him, “ a striking instance of the just
awards of Heaven, for this day, after
thirty years’ concealment, presents to
you a greater criminal than the man
just now found guilty.” He then made
an ample confession of his heinous of-
fence, with all its peculiar aggravations.
“ Nor can I,” continued he, “ feel any
relief from the agonies of an awakened
conscience, but by requiring that justice
be forthwith done against me in the
most public and solemn manner.” VVe
may easily imagine the amazement of
all, especially his fellow-judges. They
accordingly proceeded upon his confes-
sion, to pass sentence upon him, and he
died with all the symptoms of a penitent
mind.
(12) THE PARRICIDE AND HER
HUSBAND.——A man and his wife
were executed at Augsburg for a mur-
der, the discovery of which, after a long

lapse of time, strongly manifests the
impossibility of eluding the all-seeing
eye of Providence. The criminal, whose
name was Wincze, was originally of
Nuremberg, but removed to Augsburg
in 1788, where he became a lawyer.
In this city he became intimate in the
family of M. Glegg, to whose daughter
he paid his addresses; but the old
gentleman not sanctioning his visits, he
met the daughter privately, seduced
her, and persuaded her, in order to re-
move the only obstacle to their union,
to administer poison to her father. The
horrid plan succeeded; no suspicions
were entertained, and their union put
him in possession of the old man’s
wealth. During a period of twenty-one
years they lived externally happy, tut,
in secret, a prey to the greatest remorse.
At length, unable to endure any longer
the weight of guilt, the wife made con-
fession of the particulars of the atrocious
crime which she had been prevailed
upon to commit. The husband was
apprehended, and both of them received
their desert in an ignominious death.
(0) THE MURDERER’S RE-
MORSE.—One Sunday evening, says
the Frederictown, Md., Expositor, of
1831, a man, who called himself
Daniel Shafer, voluntarily came before
Michael Baltsell, a magistrate of this
city, and requested to be committed to
prison, alleging that he had committed
a murder during the last winter, in
Marietta, Penn. ; and that the reproaches
of his conscience had become so severe,
that he was unable any longer to
endure them. His narrative being
perfectly coherent, and he himself ap-
pearing entirely sane, the magistrate
complied with his request and commit-
ted him. Since that time, under his
direction, communication has been made
with the proper authorities in Marietta,
and such intelligence received as con-
firms the horrid tale. His story is, that
during the deep snow of last winter,
while in a state of intoxication, he en-
tered the house of a widow named
Bowers, then living in Marietta, and
after violating her person, put her to
death by strangling her. The fact of
such a person being found dead in her
house, about the time stated, is fully
207
97, es
CONSCIEN TIOUSNESS.

substantiated by the accounts received
from Marietta 5 and the whole demeanor
of the prisoner since his confinement, as
well as his positive declarations, has
induced a general belief in the truth
of his singular confession.
97. Miscellaneous Examples.
(a) MRS. RAMSAY AND THE
ROBBERS.—-The Rev. Mr. Ramsay,
a Methodist clergyman, was wholly de-
pendent for his living on the qua1‘t;31'ly
collection made by his people, which
was barely sufficient, by the greatest
economy, to support his family. On
the night that one of these collections
was taken up, he was obliged to preach
six miles distant from his home, and
the night was too stormy to allow of his
return. During the night, two robbers
broke into his house, called up Mrs.
Ramsay and her sister, (there were no
men living in the house,) and demanded
to know where the money was. Mrs.
R., in her night dress, lit the candle,
and leading the way to the bureau that
contained the precious deposit, procured
the key, opened the drawer, and point-
ing out the money as it lay in a hand-
kerchiefi said, “This is all we have to
live on. It is the Lord’s money. Yet,
if you will take it, there it is.” With
this remark, she left them, and retired
to bed. The next morning, the money,
to a cent, was found undisturbed. Con-
science here was appealed to, and with
happy results.
(6) THE LUNATIC DUELLIST.
--“ Some years since,” says Dr.
Beecher, “I visited the Philadelphia


Asylum. In rt arning from the apart-
ments, I saw a man standing——fixed—-
immovable—like a pillar. I asked who
that was. It was the son of Dr. Rush,
who killed a man in a duel. There he
stood like a pillar. Sometimes he would
wake up to recollection ; he Wouid pace
off the distance, and give the word
‘ Fire I’ Then cry out, ‘ He is dead l—
he is dead!’ This was the power of
conscience. It had unsettled reason.”
(0) DYING FROM REMORSE.-—
“In my early ministry,”. says Dr.
Beecher, “I was called to attend a
neighbor at East Hampton, Long Island.
He was skeptical and intemperate.
‘Pray for me,’ he exclaimed, ‘ pray for
me !——pray for me I’ ‘You must pray
for yourself,’ I replied. ‘ Pray—-I can-
not pray! I am going straight to per-
dition !’ He lived three days almost
without food, and then died——so far as
We know—-wz'thout any disease.” It was
the power of conscience. .
((1) THE PARRICIDE AND THE
PAINTING.—The cruel Al Montaser,
having assassinated his father, was after-
wards haunted by remorse. As he was
one day admiring a beautiful painting
of a man on horseback, with a diadem
encircling his head, and a Persian in-
scription, of which he inquired the
meaning, he was told that it signified-—
‘I am Shiunyeh, the son of Kosru, who
murdered my father, and possessed the
crown only six months l’-~He turned
pale, as if struck by a sentence of death.
Frightful dreams interrupted his slum-
bers, and he died at the early age of
twenty-five.
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.
98. Conscientiousness, Examples of.
(a) ROBBING ONE OR ROB-
BIN G MANY.——-A boy about nine
years of age, who attended a Sabbath
school at Sunderland, requested his
mother not to allow his brother to bring
home any thing that was smuggled when
he went to sea. “Why do you Wish
.hat, my child '2” said the mother. He

answered, “ because my catechism says
it is wrong.” The mother replied,
“But that is only the word of a man.”
He said, “Mother, is it the word of a
man which said, ‘Render unto Cznsar
the things that are Caesar’s ?”’ This
reply entirely silenced the mother; but
his father, still attempting to defend the
practice of smuggling, the boy said to
him, “Father, whether is it worse to
208
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.
98
H-_
rob one or to rob many '2” By these
questions and answers, the boy silenced
both his parents on the subject of smug-
gling.
(Z2) BETTER RULE THAN EX-
PEDIENCY.-—Lord Erskine, when at
the bar, was always remarkable for the
fearlessness with which he contended
against the bench. In a contest he had
“lth Lord Kenyon, he explained the
rule and conduct at the bar in the fol-
lowing terms: “It was,” said he, “the
first command and counsel of my youth,
always to do what my conscience told
me to be my duty, and leave the con-
sequences to God. I have hitherto fol-
lowed it, and have no reason to com-
plain that any obedience to it has been
even a temporal sacrifice ; I have found
it, on the contrary, the road to prospe-
rity and wealth, and I shall point it out
as such to my children.”
(0) THE GROCER BOY’S DE-
CISION.-—A young lad lived in Boston
in 1843, whose mother was a widow,
and supported herself by her work and
the wages of her son, who was tend-
ing the grocery of one who sold ardent
spirits. The little fellow had joined the
cold Water army; and his business of
attending the tap-room, and drawing
liquors for every loathsome drunkard
became in consequence extremely irk-
some to him. He thought it was not
right ; he went home oneonight with a
sorrowful heart, and told his mother he
thought he was doing wrong, and be-
lieved he must quit the grocery. His
mother told him that she could not pay
her rent and support the little children,
without the two dollars a week which he
earned; and that he, could get no
other place. So he went back; but
when Saturday night came, he told the
grocer he must leave him. “ Why ?”
“ I can’t feel it right to draw the liquor.”
“ Well,” said the grocer, “ you and
your mother will starve ; but you may
go.” He went home with a heavy
heart, and told his mother; and she
felt wretchedly enough. But a tempe-
rance grocer heard of the case ; and on
account of the boy’s leaving the rum
grocer under such circumstances, he
became deeply interested in his behalf.
I-Ie admired the strength of his moral

feelings, and accordingly took him into
his own employment the next week.
((1) THE PUBLISHER CON.
VERTED.—-'I‘—-— B , a publisher,
was brought under deep conviction for
sin. His conscience reproved him se-
verely, for he was a printer and vender
of songs, and similar hurtful trash, in a
very large way. On this business he
principally depended for the support of
himself and his family.
His employment in circulating such
injurious publications caused him much
trouble, and he consulted some Christian
friends, who all advised him to relin-
quish such a business.
On this subject he afterwards wrote
to some friends as follows :--“The
great adversary of souls seemed to have
much power over me. I thought, ifl
give up the song business, I might as
well give up all, forI shall be sure to
be ruined. These were my feelings
for three or four months. At length,
my sister came to visit me, to whom I
made known my distress, and she re-
commended me to pray. Though I had
heard much from the pulpit respecting
prayer, it had never taken so much ef-
fect as at this time. However, Satan
had not done with me ; for I may sup-
pose, and have often thought since, he
did not like to lose so great a friend as
I had been to him, in circulating my
trash all over the country; but the
Lord, who is suflicient for all things,
soon trod him under foot. Having
given up a portion of my time, three
and sometimes four times a day, to pray-
er, I shortly after heard a funeral ser-
mon preached from this text, ‘VVhat
shall it profit a man, if he shall gain
the whole world, and lose his own soul’.2
or what can a man give in exchange for
his soul '2’ These words came to my
heart with such force, that I determined
from that moment never to print any
more of my songs. The next morningr
Iwent to my work-room, and ordered
all the forms of type to be distributed,
as I intended never to print any more
songs, but to trust to Providence for
better means to provide for my family.
My mind then seemed relieved from
all trouble for a few days: but the con-
stant applications I had from the country

14
209
98
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS.
---~. -~.__-'-_—--.,_—-_—_."-—
for my songs, and the money I was
obliged to return, gave me great un-
easiness. But the Lord was pleased to
give me courage and perseverance to
bear up amidst all these trials, and still
to look to him for comfort and support,
so that in a short time all those angry
feelings were off; and now, if my heart
does not deceive me, I feel at peace
with that God I so long lived in rebel-
lion against.”
(e) THE CHIEFS AND THE
FILE.—Since the introduction of
Christianity into the island of Taheiti,
many interesting proofs have been
given by the natives, of conscientious
principles. Formerly, thieving was
considered no crime; but such has
been the effect of Christian instruction,
that now the very reverse is exempli-
fied. Mr. Ellis mentions the following
circumstance, which happened shortly
before his arrival there 2--
Two Christian chiefs, T ati and Ahu-
riro, were walking together by the wa-
ter side, when they came to a place
where a fisherman had been employed
in making or sharpening hooks, and
had left a large file, (a valuable article
in T aheiti.) lying on the ground. The
chiefs picked it up ; and, as they were
proceeding, one said to the other, “ This
is not ours. Is not our taking it a spe-
cies of theft '2” “Perhaps it is,” re-
plied the other; “yet, as the owner is
not here, I do not know who has a
greater right to it than ourselves.” “It
is not ours,” said the former, “ and we
had better give it away.” After fur-
ther conversation they agreed to give it
to the first person they met, which they
did, telling him they had found it, and
requested that if he heard who had lost
such a thing, he would restore it.
) THE INDIAN AND THE
QUARTER OF A DOLLAR.-—-An
Indian, visiting his white neighbors,
asked for a little tobacco to smoke, and
one of" them having some loose in his
pocket, gave him a handful. The day
following, the Indian came back, in-
quiring for the donor, saying, he had
found a quarter of a dollar among the
tobacco. Being told, that as it was
given him, he might as well keep it, he
answered, pointing to his breast, “I got

'i
a good man and a bad man here ; and
the good man say, it is not mine, I must
return it to the owner; the bad man
say, why he gave it you, and it is your
own now; the good man say, that not
right, the tobacco is yours, not the
money; the bad man say, never mind,
you got it, go buy some dram; the
good man say, no, no, you must not do
so; so I don’t know what to do ; and I
think to go to seep ; but the good man
and the bad kept talking all night, and
trouble me ; and now I bring the money
back, I feel good.”
(g) ADAM CLARKE’S EARLY
SCRUPLES.-A very respectable lin-
en merchant in Coleraine offered Dr.
Clarke, when a youth, a situation in his
warehouse, which was accepted by him,
with the consent of his parents. Mr.
B— knew well that his clerk and over-
seer was a religious man, but he was
not sensible of the extent of principle
which actuated him. Some differences
arose at times about the way of con-
ducting the business, which were set-
tled pretty amicably. But the time of
the great Dublin market approached,
and Mr. B—- was busy preparing for it.
The master and man were together in
the folding-room, when one of the pieces
was found short of the required number
of yards. “ Come,” says Mr. B—, “it
is but a trifle. We shall soon stretch
it, and make out the yard. Come,
Adam, take one end, and pull against
me.” Adam had neither ears nor heart
for the proposal, and absolutely refused
to do what he thought a dishonest thing.
A long argument and expostulation
followed, in which the usages of the
trade were strongly and variously en-
forced; but all in vain. Adam kept
to his purpose, resolving to suffer rather
than sin. Mr. B— was therefore
obliged to call for one of his men less
scrupulous, and Adam retired quietly
to his desk. These things may be
counted little in the life of such a man,
but not so in the sight of God. Soon
after Mr. B—, in the kindest manner,
informed his “ young friend,” as he
seemed always proud to call him, that
it was very clear he was not fit for
worldly business, and Wished him to
look out for some employment more
210
CONSCIENTIOUSNESS—CONSECRATION TO GOD.
98, 99, 100

congenial to his own mind 5 adding,
that he might depend on his friendship
in any line of life into which he should
enter.
(it) THE QUAKER’S ADVER-
TISEMENT.—The following account
of a Quaker at F almouth, England, is
taken from McDonald’s Life of the Rev.
J. Benson. It was related by Mr.
Woolcraft:
This man, unknown to his family
and friends, had joined with some
others in fitting out a privateer to act
against the French, who had allied
themselves to the American States
while in arms against Great Britain.
The privateer was successful, and
when peace was concluded, there was
a considerable dividend for the propri-
etors. The Quaker received his share
among the rest; but his conscience
reproached him for what he had done.
He considered himself guilty of rob-
bery. About this time he was brought
by aflliction to the gates of death, which
greatly increased his distress. He
frequently exclaimed, “Oh, that ill-
gotten money!” Neither his wife nor
friends knew what he meant. At
length he resolved, that should the Lord
raise him up, he would make restitu-
tion to the injured parties, if they could
be found. The Lord did raise him up,
and he sent his son to Paris with the
sum, directing him to advertise in the
Paris Gazette, that any person who had
suffered by such a privateer, upon com-
ing and proving his losses, would be
refunded in proportion to his share in

the prizes. This was accordingly done,
to the astonishment of all France.
99. Genseientiousness. Want at.
(a) WE MUST LIVE.-——That was
a pertinent and emphatical reply which
a Fellow of Emanuel College, in Cam-
,bridge, made to a friend of his of the
same college. The latter, at the Re-
storation, had been representing the
great difficulties (as they seemed to
him) of conformity in point of con-
science, concluding, however, with
these words, “ But we must live.” To
which the other answered only with the
like number of words, “But we must
(also) die.” A better answer could not
ossibly be given.
(Z2) A NICK IN THE CON SCIENCE.
--VVhen Mr. Nathaniel Heywood, a
nonconformist minister, was quitting
his living, a poor man came to him, and
said, “Ah! Mr. Heywood, we would
gladly have you preach still in this
church.” “Yes,” said he, “and I
would as gladly preach as you can
desire it, if I could do it with a safe
conscience.” “Oh! sir,” replied the
other, “ many a man now-a-days makes
a great gash in his conscience 5 cannot
you make a little nick in yours Cl”
(0) AN APT REJOINDER.—-An
American minister, who was earnestly
exhorted to take a decided stand on the
subject of slavery, excused himself by
saying, “You know ministers must
live!” “No,” said his friend, “I was
not aware of that; Ithought they might
die for the truth’s sake !”
100. CONSECRATION TO GOD.
(a) THE MINISTER AND THE
MERCHANT.—-—A merchant in one of
the towns of the State of New York,
says Mr. Finney, was paying a large
part of his minister’s salary. One of
the members of the church was relating
the fact to a minister from abroad, and
speaking of the sacrifice which this mer-
chant was making. At this moment the
merchant came in. “Brother,” said
the minister, “ you are a merchant.
I suppose you employ a clerk to

sell goods, and schoolmasters to teach
your children. You order your clerk
to pay your schoolmaster out of the
store such an amount, for his services
in teaching. Now suppose your clerk
should give out that he had to pay this
schoolmaster his salary, and should
speak of the sacrifices that he was
making to do it, what would you say to
this '5” “ Why,” said the merchant, “I
should say it was ridiculous.” “ VVell,”
says the minister, “ God employs you
211
“)0, 101
CON SISTENCY, CHRISTIAN.

to sell goods as his clerk, and your
minister he employs to teach his chil-
dren, and requires you to pay nis salary
out of the income of the store. Now
do you L8.ll this your sacrifice, and say
that you are making a great sacrifice, to
pay this minister’s salary? No, you
are just as much bound to sell for God,
as he is to preach for God. You have
no more right to sell goods for the pur-
pose of laying up money, than he has
to preach the Gospel for the same pur-
pose. You are bound to be just as
pious, and to aim as singly at the glory
of God, in selling goods, as he is in
preaching the gospel. And thus you
are as absolutely to give up your whole
time for the service of God, as he does.
You and your family may live fully
out of the avails of this store, and so
may the minister and his family, just
as lawfully. If you sell goods from
these motives, selling goods is just as
much serving God as preaching. And
a man who sells goods upon these prin-
ciples, and acts in conformity to them,
is just as pious, just as much in the
service of God, as he is who preaches
the Gospel. Every man is bound to serve
God in his calling. the minister by teach-
ing, the merchant by selling goods, the
farmer by tilling his fields, and the
lawyer and physician by plying the
duties of their profession.”
(6) THE POOR NEGRESS’S DE-
POSIT.—-A colored woman of Barba-
does, who had been a member of the
Moravian church for more than half a
century, gave to her pastor a small sum
of money, to be returned to her when-


ever she should want it. When he re-
linquished his charge, ne transferred
the deposit to his successor, Mr. Hart-
vig. The latter perceiving that the
poor woman was evidently in wan‘ of
pecuniary aid, informed her that he
had money in his possession which be-
longed to her. At first she could not
believe him; the remembrance of the
deposit had apparently faded from her
mind. She finally consented to receive
enough for her immediate necessities;
but Mr. Hartvig wished to know what
should be done with the remainder, in
case of her death. Her answer was,
“O me belong to the church and me me-
ney too !” There is a volume of in-
struction in this simple reply. How
few Christians seem to feel, that they
have given their property, as well
as themselves, to the Lord Jesus Christ!
(c) THE YOUNG MAN’S GIFT.
--Mr. Daniel Clark, an agent em-
ployed by a Bible Society, among other
interesting facts, related the following,
as illustrative of the zeal he met with
in the distribution of the Scriptures.
“A young man, who had nothing
except what he earned by his labor,
came to me, bringing a donation of
eight dollars. He said it was the Lord’s
and he had no right to withhold it. He
added, “ VVhen Igave myself to God, I
also gave him all I had, and all I ever
should have. And now the Lord is not
dependent upon me. If I do not give
it he can easily remove me, and put it
into the hands of some one who will
give it.”
101. CONSISTENCY, CHRISTIAN.
(a) “MY MOTHER BELIEVES
TI-IE BIBLE.”--The son of Selina,
the Countess of I-Iuntingdon, whose
zeal in the extension of the gospel is
well known, was unhappily an unbe-
liever, but reverenced his pious and
venerable mother. “I wish,” said a
peer to him, “ you would speak to Lady
Huntingdon; she has just erected a
areaching place close to my residence.”

His lordship replied, “Gladly, my lord ;
but you will do me the favor to inform
me what plea to urge, for my mother
really believes the Bible.”
(6) THE PRINCE’S TRIBUTE.
—-When Lady Huntingdon became the
subject of Divine grace, her change of
mind was soon observed by her exalted
associates, who endeavored in vain to
turn her aside from the path she had
212
_ CONSISTENCY, CHRISTIAN.
101
chosen. One day at court, the then
Prince of Wales asked Lady Charlotte
E—-, “ Where is my Lady Huntingdon,
that she is so seldom here '2” The lady
of fashion replied, with a sneer, “ I
suppose praying with her beggars.”
The prince shook his head, and said,
“ Lady Charlotte, when I am dying, I
think I shall be happy to seize the skirt
of Lady I-Iuntingdon’s mantle, to carry
me up with her to heaven.”
(0) THE DYING MASTER AND
HIS SLAVE.——The conscience of the
sinner, when aroused, not only accuses
himself but his accomplices also. A
rich Southern gentleman, careless about
his soul, used often to invite his minister,
a worldly man and a mere hireling, to
hunt, drink wine, play cards, and join
parties of pleasure with him.
The poor worldling was taken sick,
and his case was pronounced dangerous.
His mind was terribly agitated ;——he felt
unprepared to die. His physician asked
him, one day, if he would not send for
his minister to converse with him. and
offer prayer in his behalf ? No, he had
no confidence in him: he could hardly
bear the mention of his name. He had
a poor pious negro servant, by the name
of Ben. The master had sometimes
overheard him at prayer. “Call for
Ben!” said he. He came. “Ben,”
said the dying man, “can’t you pray
for your poor master?” Down he fell
on his knees, and pleaded for the salva-
tion of the sinner’s soul ; and the pray-
er, we hope, was answered.
(d) THE COVETOUS MAN’S
PRAYERS.--About eight years since,
(says a correspondent of the N. Y.
Evangelist of 1833,) in obtaining sub-
scriptions for a benevolent purpose, I
called upon a gentleman in one of our
largest cities, who generously contri-
buted t') the object. Before leaving, I
said to him, “How much, think you,
will such an individual subscribe ?”
“I don’t know,” said he, “ but could
you hear that man pray, you would
think he would give you all he is worth.”
I called upon him, but to my surprise,
he would not contribute. As I was
about to take my leave of him, I said to
him, “ As I came to your house, I asked
an individual, what he thought you


would probably give. ‘ I don’t know,’
said he, ‘but coulc you hear that man
pray, you would tnink he would give
you all he is worth.’ ” The man’s
head dropped, tears gushed from his
eyes, he took out his pocket-book and
gave me seventy-five dollars. He could
not withstand this argument. His heart
relented and his urse opened.
(e) THE VVAY TO PRESERVE
CI-IURCHES.—The first time I had
the pleasure of being in the company
of the Rev. John Wesley, (says a cor-
respondent of the N. Y. Evangelist,)
was in the year 1783. I asked him
what must be done to keep Methodism
alive when he was dead, to which he
immediately answered,-—“ The Metho-
dists must take heed to their Doctrine,
their Experience, their Practice, and
their Discipline. If they attend to their
doctrines only, they will make the peo-
ple Antinomians ; if to the experimental
part of religion only, they will make
them Enthusiasts; if to the practical
part only, they will make them Phari-
sees ,- and if they do not attend to their
discipline, they will be like persons who
bestow much pains in cultivating their
garden, and put no fence round it, to
save it from the wild boar of the forest.”
(f) INFLUENCE OF HOLY LIV-
ING.—In the town of M , N. Y.,
there lived an infidel who owned a saw-
mill, situated by the side of the high-
way, over which a large portion of a
Christian congregation passed every
Sabbath, in going to and returning from
their place of worship. This infidel
was accustomed to manage his mill him-
self, and having no regard for the Sab-
bath, he was as busy and his mill as
noisy on that holy morning as any
other. It was soon observed, however,
that at a certain time before service
this mill would stop and remain silent,
and appear to be destitute of the pre-
sence of any human being for a few
minutes, then pass on with its noise and
clatter till about the close of service,
when it again ceased for a little time.
It was soon noticed that Deacon B—---
passed the mill toward the place of
worship, during the silent interval. It
appeared that the Deacon being (as all
other good deacons are) regular in his

213
102, 103
CON SIDERATION —~CON '1 EN TMENT.

time, the infidel knew just when to stop
his mill, so that it should be silent while
Deacon B was passing, although he
paid no regard to the passing of others.
On being inquiredof, why he paid this
marked respect to Deacon B ,


the infidel replied, “The Deacon prc
fesses just what the rest of you do
but he lives also such a life, that it
makes me feel had here” (putting his
hand upon his heart) “ to run my mill
while he is passing.”
102. CONSIDERATION.
(a) SPENDING HALF AN HOUR
ALONE.——A pio'us and venerable fa-
ther had a vain and profligate son;
often had he reasoned and expostulated
with him, mingling tenderness with ad-
vice, and tears with remonstrance ; but
all was ineffectual. Bad company and
vicious habits rendered the unhappy
youth deaf to instructions. At last a
fatal disorder seized his aged parent,
who calling his son to him, entreated
him with his dying breath, that he
would grant him one small favor, the
promise of which would alleviate the
pangs of dissolving nature. It was this,
—-that his son would retire to his cham-
ber half an hour every day for some
months after his decease. He prescrib-
ed no partieular subject to employ his
thoughts, but left that to himself.
A request so simple and easy, urged
oy parental affection from the couch
of death, was not to be denied. The

youth pledged his honor for the fulfil-
ment of his promise; and, when he be-
came an orphan, punctually performed
it. At first, he was not disposed to im-
prove the minutes of solitude, but in
time various reflections arose in his
mind; the world was withdrawn; his
conscience awoke; it reproved him for
having slighted a parent who had done
so much for his welfare ; it renewed the
impression of his dying scene; it gra-
dually pointed him to a supreme Cause,
a future judgment, and a solemn eterni-
ty. God was pleased to sanctify these so-
litary moments, and to strengthen his
convictions. Retirement effected what
advice could not do, and a real and per-
manent change took place. He quitted
his companions, and reformed his con-
duct ; virtue and piety filled up the
rest of his days, and stamped sincerity
on his repentance. To say all in a
word—he lived and died a Christian.
103. CONTENTMENT.
(a) CATO AND MARIUS CURI-
US.—Cato, a pattern of moderation,
was very early taught the happy art of
contentment, by the following circum-
stance :——Near his country seat was a
cottage, formerly belonging to Marius
Curius, who was thrice honored with a
riumph. Cato often walked thither,
and reflecting on the smallness of the
farm and the meanness of the dwelling,
used to meditate on the peculiar virtues
of the man, who, though he was the
most illustrious character in Rome, had
subdued the fiercest nations, and driven
Pyrrhus out of Italy, cultivated this

little spot of ground with his own hands,
and, after three triumphs, retired to his
own cottage. Here the ambassadors of
the Samnites found him in the chimney-
corner dressing turnips, and offered him
a large present of gold; but he abso-
lutely refused it, remarking, “A man,
who can be satisfied with such a supper,
has no need of gold : and I think it
more glorious to conquer the possessors
ofit, than to possess it myself.” Fuh
of these thoughts, Cato returned home;
and taking a view of his own estate, his
servants, and his manner of life, increas-
ed his labor, and retrenched his expenses
214
CONTENTMENT.
..__-—_, ,_ ,
103
(5) HUNTING CONTENT.-—
Isaac Walton, himself a man of a very
cheerful, contented spirit, relates the
following anecdote :—-
I knew a man that had health and
riches, and several houses, all beautiful
and well furnished, and would be often
troubling himself and his family to re-
move from one of them to another. On
being asked by a friend, why he re-
moved so often from one house to ano-
ther, he replied, “ It was in order to
find content in some of them.” But his
friend, knowing his temper, told him, if
he would find content in any of his
houses, he must leave himself behind,
for content can never dwell but with a
meek and quiet soul.
(0) THE KING’S ADVICE TO
THE STABLE-BOY.—-A king, Walk-
ing out one morning, met a lad at
the stable door, and asked him, “ VVell
boy, what do you do’.2 what do they pay
you ?” “I help in the stable,” replied
the lad; “ but I have nothing except
victuals and clothes.” “Be content,”
replied the king, “I have no more.”
All that the richest possess beyond food,
raiment, and habitation, they have but
the keeping, or the disposing, not the
present enjoyment of. A plough-boy,
who thinks and feels correctly, has
enough to make him contented : and if
a king have a discontented spirit, he
will find some plea for indulging it.
(d) THE SECRET‘ REVEALED.
--An Italian bishop struggled through
great difficulties, without repining or
betraying the least impatience. One
of his intnnate friends, who highly ad-
mired the virtues which he thought it
impossible to imitate, one day asked the
prelate if he could communicate the
secret of being always easy. “Yes,”
replied the old man; “ I can teach you
my secret with great facility; it con-
sists in nothing more than making a
right use of my eyes.” His friend
begged of him to explain himself.
“ Most willingly,” returned the bishop.
“ In whatever state I am, I first of all
look up to heaven, and remember that
my principal business here is to get
there ; I then look down upon the earth,
and call to mind how small a placel
shall occupy in it, when I die and am

buried ; I then look abroad into the
world, and observe what multitudes
there are who are in all respects more
unhappy than myself. Thus I learn
where true happiness is placed ; where
all our cares must end 5 and what little
reason I have to repine or to complain.
(6) TWO SORTS OF BLESS-
IN GS.—“ It is a great blessing to pos-
sess what one wishes,” said some one
to an ancient philosopher, who replied,
“It is a greater blessing still, not to de-
sire what one does not ossess.”
(f ) THE SHEPHERD OF SALIS-
BURY PLAIN.—-Many of our readers
are acquainted with that beautiful tract,
“The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain."
The substance of this narrative is a
correct account of David Saunders, of
‘West Lavington, who died about the
period of its publication. The conver-
sation represented as passing between
the shepherd and a Mr. Johnson, really
took place with Dr. Stonehouse, a
neighboring clergyman, who afterwards
befriended the shepherd on many occa-
sions.
Dr. Stonehouse, who was on a jour-
ney, and somewhat fearful, from the
appearance of the sky, that rain was at
no great distance, accosted the shep-
herd with asking what sort of weather
he thought it would be on the monrow.
“It will be such weather as pleases
me,” answered the shepherd. Though
the answer was delivered in the mildest
and civilest tone that could be imagined,
Dr. S. thought the words themselves
rather rude and surly, and asked him
how that could be. “ Because,” replied
the shepherd, “it will be such weather
as shall please- God; and whatever
pleases him always pleases me.”
Dr. S. was quite satisfied with this
reply, and entered into conversation
with the shepherd in the following man-
ner :—-“ Yours is a troublesome life,
honest friend.” “ To be sure, sir,”
replied the shepherd, “ ’tis not a very
lazy life ; but ’tis not near so toilsome,
as that which my great Master led for
my sake, and he had every state and
condition of life at his choice, and chose
a hard one, while I only submit to the
lot that is appointed me.” “Y m are
exposed to great cold and heat,” said
215
104
CON TROVERS Y .

the gentleman. “ True, sir,” said the
shepherd ; “ but men I am not exposed
to great temptations; and so throwing
one thing against another, God is
pleased to contrive to make things more
equal than we poor, ignorant, short-
sighted creatures are apt to think.
David was happier when he kept his
father’s sheep, on such a plain as this,
and singing, some of his own psalms,
perhaps, than ever he was when he be-
came king of Israel and Judah.”
“You think, then,” said the gentle-
man, “that a laborious life is a happy
one '2”
“I do, sir; and more especially so,
as it exposes a man to fewer sins. If
king Saul had continued a poor labo-
rious man to the end of his days, he
might have lived happy and honest, and
died a natural death in his bed at last,
which you know, sir, was more than he
did.”
God blessed Saunders with an excel-
lent wife and numerous offspring; he
had sixteen children, and twelve of them,
at one time, were “ like olive branches
round his table.” It is not to be sup-
posed that a poor shepherd, with such
a family, could be without difficulties,

__
especially as his wife suffered much
from sickness.
His wages were but 68. 3d. weekly,
out of which he was sometimes obliged
to pay a boy for assistance ; but when
times of peculiar necessity occurred.
God always raised him up a friend.
Dr. (afterwards Sir James) Stonehouse
repeatedly assisted him; and some-
times his good neighbors, in humbler
life, united to supply his wants. In
one of his letters in his old age, he thus
writes, with much Christian simplicity:
—“ As for my par.‘ I am but very
poorly in body, having very sore legs,
and cannot perform the business of my
flock without help. As to the things
of this world, I have but little share;
having my little cot to pray and praise
God in, and a bed to rest on : soI have
{gust as much of this world as I desire.
ut my garment is worn out, and some
of my Christian friends think they must
put their mites together and buy me
one, or else I shall not be able to en-
dure the cold in the winter: so I can
say, Good is the Lord! He is still
fulfilling his promise, ‘I will never
leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ ”
104. CONTROVERSY.
(a) EUDAMIDES AND XENOC-
RATES.—When Eudamides heard old
Xenocrates disputing so long about
wisdom, he inquired very gravely but
archly, “If the old man be yet disput-
ing and inquiring concerning wisdom,
what time will he have left to use it '2”
(I2) LUTHER’S PRAYER.—-Con-
troversy may be sometimes needful:
but the love of disputation is a serious
evil. Luther, who contended earnestly
for the truth, used to pray: “From a
vainglorious doctor, a contentious pas-
tor, and nice questions, the Lord deliver
his church !”
(0) MELANCTHON AND HIS
MOTHER.—Philip Melancthon, being
at the conferences at Spire, in 1529,
made a little journey to Bretten, to see
his mother. This good woman asked

him what she must believe amidst so
many disputes, and repeated to him her
prayers, which contained nothing su-
perstitious. “ Go on, mother,” said he,
“to believe and pray as you have done,
and never trouble yourself about reli-
ious controversies.”
(ti) DR. SWIFT’S COOLNESS.-—
When Dr. Swift was arguing one day
with great coolness, with a gentleman
who had become exceedingly warm in’
the dispute, one of the company asked
him how he could keep his temper so
well. “The reason is,’ ’ replied the
dean, “I have truth on my side.”
(e) NEWTON’S ADVICE TO AN
AUTHOR.-—Mr. Newton, of London,
was a very candid and friendly critic,
and was often applied to by young au-
thors for his opinions and rema1 ks,
216
CON TROVERSY.
104
m
which he would give very candidly,
and sometimes under the name of Nib-
blings. On one of these occasions a
practical essay Was put into his hand,
which he approved; but a letter was
appended, addressed to an obscure and
contemptible writer, who had said very
unwarrantable and absurd things on
the subject, and whom therefore the
writer attacked with little ceremony.
The following is a specimen of some of
Mr. Newton’s nibblings :—-“ Were the
affair mine, I would take no notice of
Mr. ; but, if I did, it should be
with the hope, at least with the desire,
of doing good, even to him. This
would make me avoid every harsh
epithet. He is not likely to be benefit-
ed by calling him a fool. The evan-
gelists simply relate what is said and
done, and use no bitterness nor severity,
even when speaking of Herod, Pilate,
or Judas. I wish their manner was
more adopted in controversy.”
(f) THE DEBATING CHURCH.
—-In the township of Minerva, once
flourished a delightful society known
for some years as the church of Edessa.
It was a congregation of about a hun-
dred and twenty strong, and included
sixteen households, besides members of
other families. These sixteen families
were indeed generally exemplary, but
a few of them were known through all
the country as houses of prayer and
sacred song.
Things progressed most prosperously
in this way for some five or six years,
and all was peace and brotherly kind-
ness among themselves, while their acts
of benevolence, to those without, espe-
cially to the destitute and afllicted, won
the esteem and admiration of all the sur-
rounding community.
But at length appeared among them
a brother from Newfoundland, of good
moral reputation and of very respecta-
ble attainments. He was well received
by the whole church, and for some time
they were all exceedingly happy in his
company. But, being called upon one
afternooon for an address at a prayer
meeting, in a place where a number of
brethren were wont to convene for cul-
tivating piety and a more perfect ac-
quaintance with the Book of God, he

_.,_
introduced a favorite speculation on the
extent of our present and future par-
ticipation in the sin of Adam; and on
the nature and extent of that depravity
which has been communicated to all
his posterity. Question after question
arose about moral evil, its introduction
into the universe, and God’s designs and
provisions, until the prayer meeting be
came rather a debating club : for there
were three young men who took sides
with their strange brother, while some
of the elder brethren sought to correct
some of their alleged aberrations, and
to reclaim them from these unprofitable
speculations. But their efforts did not
avail.
It got into the congregation; and
through their inexperience in such mat-
ters, both sides of these questions found
favor with the different members of the
church ; and in a little time these opin-
ions were on every one’s tongue. Songs
and social prayers and works of benev-
olence were laid aside, and theological
debate drank up their energies, and ab-
sorbed their thoughts. Alienation of
feeling and declension in piety were
more and more apparent; and it must
have been many years before the blight-
ing influence of their conflicts passed
away.
) WAY TO DISCERN IVHO
IS WRONG IN ARGUMENT.—
A cobbler at Leyden, who used to at-
tend the public disputations held at the
academy, was once asked if he under-
stood Latin. “ No,” replied the me-
chanic, “ but I know who is wrong
in the argument.” “How '2” replied
his friend. “ \Vhy, by seeing who is
angry first.”
(h) DR. GILL NOT AFRAID TO
BE POOR.—After Dr. Gill had writ-
ten against a gentleman whose publi-
cations he considered erroneous, he was
waited on by some of his friends, who
endeavored to dissuade him from per-
severing, and among other things, they
intimated to him that he might lose the
subscriptions of some wealthy persons.
“ Do not tell me of losing,” said the
doctor ; “I value nothing in comparison
with the gospel. I am not afraid to be
poor.”
217
105
CONVERSATION BETWEEN -CHRISTIANS.

...-.-‘ . -~ _..., <-_ ..
105. CONVERSATION BETWEEN CHRISTIANS.
(a) IVOULD DAVID OR PAUL
HAVE TALKED THUS ?—-It is said
of the Rev. John Janeway, an eminent.-
ly pious and devoted young minister,
who died in 1657, that he was greatly
distressed on account of the indisposition
manifested among Christians to engage in
suitable conversation; and that they who
should be found encouraging one another
in the way to eternal happiness, could
satisfy themselves with empty, common,
vain stufi‘; as if Christ, heaven, and
eternity, were not of far greater worth
than any thing else that usually sounds
in the ears and comes from the lips of
professors. That the folly of common
discourse among Christians might ap-
pear more, and that he might discover
how little such language did become
those that profess themselves followers
of Christ, he once sat down silently, and
took out his pen and ink, and wrote
down in short-hand the discourse that
passed for some time together, amongst
those who pretended to more than com-
mon understanding in the things of God.
And, after a while, he took his paper
and read it to them, and asked them
whether their talk was such as they
would be willing God should record.
“ Oh, to spend an hour or two together,
and to hear scarcely a word for Christ,
or that speaks people’s hearts in love
with holiness! Should we ta].k thus if
we believed that we should hear of this
again at the day ofjudgment ’.l Would
Enoch, David, or Paul have talked
thus’.Z Is this the sweetest communi-
cation of saints upon earth? Doth not
this indicate our hearts to be very
empty of grace, and that we have little
sense of those spiritual and eternal con-
cerns upon us '2”
(b) THE AFFECTING QUES-
TION.-—A number of intimate friends
being at dinner together, on the Lord’s
day, one of the company, in order to
prevent improper discourse, said, “It is
a question whether we shall all go to
heaven or not.” This plain hint oc-

casioned a general seriousness and self-
examination. One thought, “ If any
of this company go to hell, it must be
myself ;” and so thought another, and
another; even the servants, who wait-
ed at table, were affected in the same
manner. In short, it was afterwards
found, that this one sentence proved, by
the special blessing of God upon it, in-
strumental to their conversion. ‘What
an encouragement is this to Christians,
to give a serious turn to conversation,
when in company! It should be ob-
served, however, that the Lord’s day
was not instituted for the visiting and
entertainment even of Christians. How
is their conduct, who make a point of
meeting and feasting on the Sabbath, to
be distinguished from the Sunday parties
of the profane ‘.3 Our place of meeting,
on that day, is the house of God ; and
our feast, the rich provisions of the ever-
lasting gospel.
(0) COMMUNION \/VITH SAINTS.
-—“ On Saturday, about ten o’clock,”
says the Rev. T. Charles, of North
‘Wales, in a letter, “ I set out from Bris-
tol. Just as I came to the outside of
the gate of the city, I met a dear friend,
and one whom Jesus loves. I was ex-
ceedingly glad to see him; for I never.
expected to see him this side of eternity.
He had been in a dangerous decline for
this half year ; but now, through mercy,
heis wonderfully recovered. He has
nothing to depend on but Providence;
and the Lord put it into the heart of a
rich merchant in the city to support and
provide for him amply during the whole
of his illness ; so that, though possess-
ing nothing, he had every thing to en-
joy. He turned his horse back, with
the intention of accompanying me a
mile or two. We talked; and our
horses carried us one mile after another,
till we had ridden fifteen miles; and
both ourselves and our horses wanted
some refreshment. His conversation
was exceedingly savory, and truly
profitable, suited to one who had been,
218
-. -
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT. 105, 106

..
in his own apprehension, and that of
others, on the borders of heaven. I
cannot look on our meeting, but as a
particular appointment and blessing
from Providence. We stayed two hours
together at the inn, and parted at last
with much regret. You would have
smiled to see our eyes fixed on each
other, till distance obstructed our sight.
Communion of saints is a blessing in-
deed. I would not, for any thmg, have
it expunged from our creed.”
(d) MR. HERVEY AND DP-..
DODDRlDGE.——Mr. Hervey, in a
letter, says—“l have lately seen that
most excellent minister of the ever-
blessed Jesus, Mr----. I dined, supped,
l
and spent the evening w'th him at
Northampton, in company with Dr.
Doddridge, and two pious, ingenous
clergymen of the Church of England,
both of them known to the learned
world by their valuable writings; and
surely I never spent a more delightful
evening, or saw one that seemed to make
nearer approaches to the felicity of
heaven. A gentleman of great worth
and rank in the town, invited us to his
house, and gave us an elegant treat;
but how mean was his provision, how
coarse his delicacies, compared with the
fruit of my friend’s lips !—they dropped
as the honey-comb, and were a well of
life.”
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITEN T.
106. Way for Humble Christians to be Useful.
(a) RELATING A SERMON.-
During a revival in M , says a cor-
respondent of the New-York Evange-
list, a minister, who was a stranger to
the people, came into the place, and
preached on the first Sabbath that he
spent there, from the text, “ VVhy will
ye die '2” Mrs. A , one of the
mothers in Israel, was deeply interested
in the subject of the discourse. When
she returned home, she still thought of
the awful condition of impenitent sin-
ners. She had a near neighbor, the
brother of her husband, who was so
negligen‘ of the things of religion, that
he was seldom seen within the walls of
the sanctuary. She felt for this friend.
In the evening she called to see him,
gave him a relation of the meeting she
had attended, told him the text, and as
much of the sermon as she could re-
collect. An arrow of conviction was
fixed in his heart, he immediately be-
gan to attend the religious meetings,
and soon was brought to rejoice in the
God of his salvation.
How much good might be accom-
plished if Christians generally felt as
this pious female felt, and like her were
faithful to warn sinners, to invite them
to Jesus, and entreat them to flee from
he wrath to come.



(b) THE CHILD AND THE SHOE
MAKER.—When Mr. Whitfield was
preaching in America, a certain lady
in New England became a subject of
grace, and a praymg, experienced
Christian. But she was alone in her
exercises ; she could influence none to
pray with her but her little daughter,
between nine and eleven years of age.
This child she took into her closet with
her, from day to day, a witness to her
cries and tears. It pleased God, afier
some time, to touch the heart of the
child, and after sorrow for sin, to give
her the knowledge of salvation through
the remission of sin. The child, then
about eleven years of age, in a trans-
port which is so peculiar to such a
blessed experience, said, “O, mother,
if all the world knew this! Iwish I
could tell every body! Pray, mother,
let me run to some of the neighbors,
and tell them, that they may be happy,
and love my Savior too.”
“ Ah! my dear child,” said the
mother, “that would be needless; for I
suppose if you were to tell your experi-
ence, there is not one in many miles
but what would laugh at you, and say
it was all delusion.”
“O, mother,” said the child, “I
think they would believe me. 1 must
go over to the shoemaker and tell him ;
he will believe me.”
219
I07
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, IVITH THE IMPENITEN1.

She ran over, and found him at work
in his shop. She began by telling him
that he must die, and that he was a
sinner, and that she was a sinner, but
that her blessed Savior had heard her
mother’s prayers, and had forgiven all
her sins; and that now she was so
happy she did not know how to tell it!
The shoemaker was struck; his tears
flowed down like rain ; he threw aside
his work, and cried for mercy, by
prayer and supplication. That alarm-
ed the neighborhood, and in a few
months from that time there were above
fifty people brought to the knowledge
of Jesus, and experienced his power
and grace.
107. Influence of Earnestness and Ten-
derness.
(a) YOUNG BUCHANAN AND
THE AGED CHRISTIAN.-—Dr. Bu-
chanan, in giving an account of his
conversion, says ;——“ It was in the year
1790 that my heart was effectually
impressed in consequence of an ac-
quaintance with a religious man. This
gentleman having called one Sunday
evening, out of complaisance I gave the
conversation a religious turn. Among
other things I asked him whether he
believed there was such a thing as
divine grace ; whether or not it was a
fiction imposed by grave and austere
persons from their own fancies. He
took occasion, from this inquiry, to en-
large much upon the subject; he spoke
with zeal and earnestness, and chiefly
in Scripture language, and concluded
with a very affecting address to the
conscience and the heart. I had not
the least desire, that I recollect, of be-
ing benefited by this conversation ; but
while he spoke, I listened to him with
earnestness; and before Iwas aware,
a most powerful impression was made
upon my mind, and I conceived the
instant resolution of reforming my life.
On that eveningl had an engagement
which I could not now approve; not-
withstanding what had passed, I, how-
ever, resolved to go; but as I went
along, and had time to reflect upon
what I had heard, I half wished that it
might not be kept. It turned out asi

._-—~
desired. I hurried home, and locked
myself up in my chamber; I fell on
my knees, and endeavored to pray.”
The result of this interview with
his religious friend was made conducive
to Buchanan’s conversion; and he
became one of the most self-denying
and useful men in modern times.
(Z2) “ HOW DO YOU TREAT MY
MASTER ?”—Dr. Payson was once
going to one of the towns in Maine for
the purpose of attending a ministers’
meeting, accompanied by a friend,
when they had occasion to call at a
house on the journey, where Dr. ‘ Pay-
son was unknown. The family had
just sat down to tea, and the lady of the
house, in the spirit of genuine hospi-
tality, invited the strangers to partake
of the social repast. Dr. Payson at
first declined, but being strenuously
urged, he consented. As he took his
seat, he inquired if a blessing had been
asked; and being answered in the
negative, requested the privilege, which
was readily granted, of invoking the
benediction of Heaven. This was done
with so much fervor, solemnity, and
simplicity, that it had the happiest
effect. The old lady treated the com-
pany with the utmost attention, and as
Dr. Payson was about to leave, he said
to her, “ Madam, you have treated me
with much hospitality and kindness,
for which I thank you sincerely; but
allow me to ask, how do you treat my
Master’.Z That is of infinitely greater
consequence than how you treat me.”
He continued in a strain of appropriate
exhortation, and having done his duty
in the circumstances, proceeded on his
journey. This visit was sanctified to
the conversion of the lady and her
household. The revival continued in
the neighborhood, and in a short time a
church was built, and the regular ordi-
nances of religion established.
(c) LADY H. AND THE LABOR.
ER.-—-Lady H. once spoke to a work-
man who was repairing a garden wall,
and pressed him to take some thought
concerning eternity and the state of his
soul. Some years afterward she was
speaking to another on the same subject,
and said to him, “ Thomas, I fear you
never pray, nor look to Christ for salva-
220
INFLUENCE OF EARNESTNESS AND TENDERNESS.
tion.” “Your ladyship is mistaken,”
answered the man. “I heard what
passed between you and James at such
a time, and the word you designed for
him took effect on me.” “ How did you
hear it 2 “I heard it on the other side
of the garden, through a hole in the
wall, and shall never forget the impres-
sion I received.”
(d) THE EFFECT OF A TEAR.
—--In a little village, in the northern part
of England, open-air services, for the
purpose of preaching the gospel to the
ignorant and profligate, had been car-
ried on, during nine successive summer
seasons, and not without some salutary
effects, as evidenced in the conversion
of several. But among others Joseph
K , full of self-righteousness and
prejudice, despised in his heart the
preacher, his message, and all who
loved the truths which he declared.
In the week, he was by necessity
associated with two or three, who, since
the preaching of the gospel in their village
had tasted that the Lord was gracious,
and who, as a consequence, ardently
longed that others should enjoy the same
holy privileges and pleasures as those
in which they participated. But Joseph
K despised all their desires and
efforts, because, in his heart, he viewed
them only as hypocrites, or as enthu-
siasts. Many a word in season was
dropped by these plain Christians in
their daily intercourse with their fellow
laborer. But, for a long time, all was
to no good purpose: K remained
insensible, caring for none of these
things. During the winter, his master
ordered him and John B to thrash
together in a barn. And often, between
the strokes of the descending flail, was
many a stroke tenderly aimed at
K ’ s conscience. However, the only
return which he usually made, was a
taunting answer as to some people being
righteous overmuch, or else a silent yet
significantly contemptuous sneer. But
his associate in labor was a man of
patient, tender spirit, yet of very sus-
eeptible feelings. He grieved inwardly
at the hardness and impenitency of heart
manifested by his neighbor. At length,
having, on one occasion, spoken to




107
K-—--- very kindly about his need of a
Savior, and of the things which related
to his everlasting peace, and seeing that
he disregarded all B—— —-’s counsel,
and would have none of his reproof, the
fountains of his grief were suddenly
broken up, and turning toward a dark
part of the barn, a gush of grief burst
forth, and betrayed itself, rolling down
the checks of the poor and pious, yet
despised thrasher. But although B
had turned aside, and endeavored to hide
his tears by hastily wiping them away
with the rough sleeve of his smock-frock,
K saw the big round tear glistening
in his fellow laborer’s eye, who silently,
but thoughtfully, soon resumed his work,
by diligently plying with his flail the
corn which lay spread out on the thrash-
ing floor.
That tear, by the overruling power of
God, did more than all the sermons he
heard from the preacher under the elm-
tree, or all the kind and truly Christian
expostulations of his associate in labor.
That tear subdued his heart. He melted
into tenderness and godly sorrow for
his past sins. From that moment he con-
sidered.—“VVhat,” thought he, “shall
John B shed tears on my account,
and yet I have never shed one tear
about my soul’s concern '2” After much
inward conflict, he obtained joy and
peace in believing. He began soon to
love the minister, and the people, whom
before he as heartily despised.
(e) THE UNANSVVERABLE
ARGUMENT.——In the time of a great
revival in a certain church and con-
gregation, the pastor urged one of his
brethren, an able, skilful lawyer, to go
and converse with a scofling infidel of
their acquaintance. “ You know,”
said he, “that Mr. R. comprehends an
able argument as well as any of us;
and you and I have often seen how his
eye will kindle under a compact and
well-drawn argument. Now can you
not go over, with him, the proofs on
which the Christian system rests '2”
“ I have done that already,” said the
lawyer, “ and he heard me through
patiently and then pounced upon my
arguments like a tiger on his prey.
Then he wound up with bitter re-



221
107
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT.

breaches, which made me dread to en-
counter him again.”
One of the elders of the same church
had been also to visit the infidel, and
met with a like reception, and he had
made similar objections to his pastor to
visiting the infidel again. But on a
subsequent evening he was led by the
Spirit of God, to wrestle before the
throne with most agonizing prayer in
that Infidel’s behalf. At intervals he
continued all night presenting his case
before God, and praying for his conver-
sion and salvation, as a man would pray
for a friend’s life on the eve of his
execution.
Prayer was followed by correspond-
ing effort, and not long after, in the
crowded church, Mr. R. stood up, a
changed man, to relate his Christian
experience !
“I am as a brand,” said he, “pluck-
ed out of the burning. The change in
my views and feelings is astonishing to
myself; and all brought about by the
grace of God and that unanswerable
argument.
“ It was a cold morning in January,
and I had just begun my labor at the
anvil in my shop, when I looked out
and saw Elder B approaching. As
he drew near I saw he was agitated—-
nis look was full of earnestness. His
eyes were bedimmed with tears. He
took me by the hand. His breast heav-
ed with emotion, and with indescribable
tenderness, he said, ‘Mr. R , I am
greatly concerned for your salvation-—
greatly concerned for your salvation!’
and he burst into tears. He often
essayed to speak, but not a word could
he utter, and finding that he could say
no more, he turned, went out of the
shop, mounted his horse, and rode slowly
away.
“ ‘ Greatly concerned for my salvation,’
said I audibly, and I stood and forgot to
bring my hammer down! ‘Greatly
concerned for my salvation.’ Here is a
new argument, thought I, for religion,
which I never heard before, and I
know not how to answer it. Had the
Elder reasoned with me,I could have
confounded him ; but here is no thread-
bare argument for the truth of religion.


Religion must move the soul with bene-
volent, holy, mighty impulses, or this
man would not feel as he does. ‘GREATLY
CONCERNED FOR MY SALVATION ’——it rung
through my cars like a thunder clap in
a clear sky. ‘ Greatly concerned ought
I to be for my own salvation,’ said I;
‘ VVhat shall I do to be saved '2’
“I went into my house. My poor
pious wife, whom I had so often ridi-
culed for her religion, exclained, ‘ Why
Mr. R , what is the matter with
you '2’ ‘Matter enough,’ said I, filled
with agony—-‘ Matter enough. Elder
B. has rode two miles this cold morning
to tell me he was greatly concerned for
my salvation. Vllhat shall I do ?’ She
advised me to go and see him. N 0
sooner said than done. I mounted my
horse and pursued after him. I found
him alone in that same little room where
he had spent the whole night in prayer
for my poor soul. ‘I am come,’ said I
to him, ‘to tell you I am greatly con-
cerned for my own salvation.’
“‘Praised be God,’ said the Elder.
‘It is a faithful saying, and worthy of
all acceptation, that Jesus Christ came
into the world to save sinners, even the
very chief ;’ and he began at that same
Scripture and preached unto me Jesus.
On that same floor we knelt, and to-
gether we prayed, and we did not sep-
arate that day till God spoke peace to
my soul. And here permit me to say,
if you would reach the heart of such a
poor sinner as I, you must get your
qualification where the good Elder did
his, in your closet and on your knees.”
That converted infidel long outlived the
Elder, and was the means of the con-
version of many.
(f) THE GAY LADY AND HER
PIOUS F RIENDS.-—A gay, thought-
less young lady, who had not unfra-
quently indulged in ridiculing “ the
orthodox,” as she was pleased to term
those who pretended to any thing more
than external morality, after having
been in the society of a pious, devoted
friend, observed, “Mrs. is always
talking religion, but she does seem to
enjoy it so much, that I admire to lis-
ten to her, and have been sitting a whole
hour to hear her converse.”

222
ADVANTAGE OF SKILL AND PRUDENCE.
10:5, 109

108. Advantage of Skill and Prudence.
(a) MEETING THE IMPENI-
TENT ALONE.—-Several young la-
dies, of a proud, gay and fashionable
character, lived together in a fashiona-
ble family. Two men were strongly
desirous to get the subject of religion
before them, but were at a loss how to
accomplish it for fear they would all
combine, and counteract or resist every
serious impression. At length they took
this course. They called and sent up
their card to one of the young ladies
by name. She came down and they con-
versed with her on the subject of her
salvation, and as she was alone, she
not only treated them politely, but
seemed to receive the truth in serious-
ness. A day or two after, they called
in like manner on another, and then
another, and so on till they had con-
versed with every one separately. In
a little time they were all, I believe,
every one, hopefully converted. This
was as it should be, for then they could
not keep each other in countenance.
And then the impression made on one
was followed up with the others, so that
one was not left to exert a bad influence
over the rest. -
(Z2) TWENTY-ONE YOUN
MEN CONVERTED.—-There was a
pious woman who kept a boarding house
for young gentlemen ; she had twenty-
one or two of them in her family, and at
length she became very anxious for
their salvation : she made it a subject of
prayer, but saw no seriousness among
them. At length she saw that there
must be something done besides praying,
and yet she did not know what to do.
One morning after breakfast, as they
were retiring she asked one of them to
stop a few minutes. She conversed
with him tenderly on the subject of re-
ligion, and prayed with him. She fol-
lowed up the impression made, and
pretty soon he was hopefully converted.
Then there were two, and they address-
ed another, ‘and prayed with him, and
soon he was prepared to join them. Then
another, and so on, taking one at a time,
and letting none of the rest know what

was going on, so as not to alarm them,
till every one of these young men were
converted to God. Now if she had brought
the subject before the whole of them to-
gether, very likely they would have
turned it all into ridicule, or perhaps they
would have been offended and left the
house, and then she could have had no
further influence over them. But tak-
ing one alone, and treating him respect-
fully and kindly, he had no such ob-
stacle as arises out of the presence of
others.
109. Happy Results Unexpectedly Developed
(a) THE PIOUS WIDOW AND
THE SAILOR.——A pious English
widow, who resided among ignorant
and vicious neighbors in the suburbs
of B-—-, Mass., determined to do what
she could for their spiritual benefit;
and so 'she opened her little front room
for weekly prayer meetings, and en-
gaged some pious Methodists to aid in
conducting them. Much of the seed
thus scattered on a seemingly arid soil,
produced fruit. One instance deserves
special notice.
Among others who attended was a.
young sailor of intelligent and prepos-
sessing countenance. A slight ac-
quaintance with him discovered him to
be very ignorant of even the rudiments
of education; but, at the same time he
had such manifestly superior abilities,
that the widow became much interested
in his spiritual welfare, and could not
but hope that God would in some way
provide for his further instruction, con-
vert him and render him useful.
But in the midst of her anticipations
he was suddenly summoned away to sea.
He had been out but a short time when
the vessel was seized by a British pri-
vateer and carried into Halifax, where
the crew suffered by a long and wretched
imprisonment.
A year had passed away, during
which the good woman had heard noth-
ing of the young sailor. Still she re-
membered and prayed for him with the
solicitude of a mother. About this time,
she received a letter from her relations,
who had settled in Halifax, on business
223
109
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, VVITH THE IMPENITENT.

which required her to go to that town.
While there, her habitual disposition to
be useful, led her with a few friends to
visit the prison with Bibles and tracts.
In one apartment were the American
prisoners. As she approached the grated
door, a voice shouted her name, calling
her mother, and a youth appeared and
leaped for joy at the grate. It was the
lost sailor boy! They wept and con-
versed like mother and son, and when
she left she gave him a Bible-—his fu-
ture guide and comfort.
During her stay at Halifax, she con-
stantly visited the prison, supplying the
youth with tracts, religious books, and
clothing, and endeavoring by her con-
versation to secure the religious impres-
sion made on his mind at the prayer
meetings in B--. After many months
she removed to a distant part of the pro-
vinces , and for years she heard nothing
more of the young sailor.
\/Ve pass over a period of many years
and introduce the reader to Father T-—,
the distinguished mariner’s preacher in
the city of B—-. In a spacious and sub-
stantial chapel, crowded about by the
worst habitations in the city, this dis-
tinguished man delivered, every Sab-
bath, discourses as extraordinary, per-
haps, as are to be found in the Christian
world. In the centre column of seats,
guarded sacredly against all other in-
-rusion, sat a dense mass of mariners-
a strange medley of white, black, and
olive, Protestant, Catholic, and Pagan.
On the other seats in the galleries, the
aisles, the altar, and on the pulpit stairs,
were crowded, week after week, and
year after year—-the families of sailors,
and the poor who had no other temple
-the elite of the city-—the learned pro-
fessor—-the student-—the popular writer
—-the actor-—groups of clergymen, and
the votaries of gayety and fashion, lis-
tening with throbbing hearts and wet
eyes, to a man whose only school had
been the forecastle, whose only endow-
ments were those of grace and nature,
but whose shrewd sense, keen wit, and
glowing fancy, and melting pathos, and
energetic delivery would allow none to
be inattentive or unaffected in his au-
dience.
In the year 183--—, an aged English

local preacher moved into the city of
B— from the British provinces.
The old local preacher was ming-
ling in a public throng one day with a
friend, when they met “Father T--.
A few words of introduction led to a
free conversation, in which the former
residence of his wife in the city was
mentioned, and allusion was made to her
prayer meeting—-her former name was
asked by “Father T—— ;” he seemed
seized by an impulse—-inquired their
residence, hastened away, and in a short
time arrived in a carriage, with all his
family, at the home of the aged pair.
There a scene ensued which must be
left to the imagination of the reader.
“Father T-—” was the sailor boy of
the prayer meeting and the prison.
The old lady was the widow who had
first cared for his soul. They had met
once more I
(Z1) “DID YOU EV ER DRINK AT
THAT GREAT FOUNTAIN '2”—-A
friend of mine, Deacon E., in 1839.
was on a visit to Saratoga Springs. One
morning, taking a draught at Congress
Spring, alady came to take her usua
glass at the same time. The deacon
turned to her and asked her, “ Have you
ever drank at that Great Fountain?"
She colored, and looked surprised ; bu
turned away without a word of reply
The next winter Deacon E. was in Roch-
ester, and one evening attended a con-
ference and prayer meeting in the
Baptist church. A gentleman invited
him to go home with him and see his
wife who was very sick. As he entered
the room she looked up and siniled, and
said, “ Don’t you know me '2” “ No,’
said he. “ Don’t you remember asking
a woman at Congress Spring, ‘ Have you
ever drank at that Great Fountain '2’ "
“Yes,” says he. “ Well,” said she,
“ I am the person ; I thought at first you
were very rude ; but your words kept
ringing in my ears. They followed
me to my chamber, to my pillow. I
found no rest till I found it in Christ. I
expect to die pretty soon, and go to
heaven, and you, under God, are the
means of my salvation I Be as faithfu.
to others as you have been to me.
Never be afraid to talk to strangers on
the subject of religion.”
224
HAPPY RESULTS, UNEXPECTEDLY DEVELOPED.
109
(c) FAREVVELL ADVICE.—Many
years ago, a gentleman lived in inti-
mate association with some literary
friends, wh met together once a week.
In the freedom of this social inter-
course, he had ample opportunities of
ascertaining their peculiar habits of
mind, and remarked, with deep regret, a
general alienation from the sentiments
and principles of real religion. One of
them, in particular, to whom he was on
many accounts most attached, scorned
the restraints of religion, and abandoned
himself to the pleasures of the world.
Circumstances at length led the gentle-
man to leave that place, and on parting
with his acquaintance at the corner of the
street, he summoned up his moral cour-
age to pronounce the following words :—
“We now part, probably to meet no more
on earth. We have sometimes discussed,
and you have always refused to regard,
the appeals of scriptural truth. One
word, and I have done. O remember
that you have a soul, an immortal soul :
will you finally consent to lose it in end-
less perdition, for the sake of paltry and l
fleeting indulgences’! Farewell.”
Each now disappeared from the other,
in the crowd of life ; and pursued a very
difi‘erent course. Ten, twenty, thirty
years elapsed. The gentleman was
one day standing at his door, when- an-
other gentleman was passing by in great
haste ; but a momentary glance induced
him to stop, and to ask, “ Sir, is not your
name M—-? ”
“It is;” and a sudden reminiscence
led him to add, “And is not yours G—- '2”
“You are right. Do you remember
what you said at our separation at the
corner of S—— street, thirty years ago '2”
“I have a faint recollection.”
“ But I have a strong one. I am an-
other man. You left me a man of the
world, and an enemy of the cross of
Christ : I am now, and have been during
many years, a member of a Christian
church, and you are the cause. The
word was ‘ in season; ’ I could not rid
myself of it; I was forced by it to re-
flection; yes, I thought on my ways,
and turned to God and happiness.”
(d) REV. MR. READER AND
THE CI-IILD.—-The Rev. Mr. Rea-
fler, of Taunton (Eng.), having called,

one day, in the course of his pastoral
visits, at the house of a friend, affec-
tionately noticed a n'tt.e girl in the
room, about six years of age. Among
other things, he asked ner if she knew
that she had a bad heart, and, open-
ing the Bible, pointed her to the pas-
sage where the Lord promises to give
a new heart. He instructed her to plead
this promise in prayer, and she would
find the Almighty faithful to his promise.
About seventeen years after, a lady came
to him, proposed herself for communion
with the church of which he was pastor
and how inexpressible was his delight
when he found that she was the very
person with whom, when a child, he
had so freely conversed, and that the
conversation was bls sed to her con-
version ! Taking her Bible, she had re-
tired, as L ‘ advised nleaded the> promise,
wept, and prayed ; and the Lord, in an-
swer to her fervent petitions, gave her
what she so earnestly desired, a new
heart.
(e) BISHOP ASBURY AND POOR
PUNCH.—Bishop Asbury, in 1798, on
his journey to Charleston, S. C., pass-
ed a creek in the parish of St.—-, on
the bank of which sat a slave fishing
and humming a ditty. His name was
Punch. He was notorious for his vi-
cious character. The pious bishop rode
towards him, deliberately proceeded to
alight, fastened his horse to a tree, and
seated himself by the side of the slave!
As the slave seemed willing, he com-
menced a minute and personal conversa-
tion Witl1 him on religion. Punch began
to feel, tears ran down his sable cheeks,
and he seemed alarmed at his danger, and
listened with intentness to the counsels
of the singular stranger. After a long
conversation, the bishop sung the
hymn —
“Plunged in a gulf of dark despair,”
prayed with him, and pursued his jour-
ney. More than twenty years elapsed
before he again saw or heard of Punch.
I/Vhile on another visit to Charleston
he was called upon by an aged and
Christian negro, who had travelled sev-
enty miles on foot to visit him. It was
the slave he had warned and prayed
over on the bank of the creek who had
ever since been journeying on me way
5
225
£10
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT.

to heaven. When the bishop left him, on
the bank of the stream, he immediately
took up his fishing tackle and hastened
home in the deepest agitation, pondering
over the words of the venerable man.
After some days of anguish and prayer,
he found peace in believing and became a
new man. The change was too mani-
fast not to be discovered by his fellow-
servants—-it was the topic of his con-
versation with them incessantly. In his
simple way he pointed them to the Lamb
of God which taketh away the sins of
the world, and many of them became
thoroughly penitent for their sins.
Throngs of the neglected Africans re-
sorted to his‘ humble cabin to receive
his exhortations and prayers. A per-
verse overseer, who had charge of the
plantation, perceiving the increasing
interest of the slaves for their souls, and
their constant attendance in the evenings
at Punch’s cabin, determined to put a
stop to the spreading leaven. But on
coming one night to break up a meeting,
he was struck under conviction, fell down
under a tree near by, and began to cry
for mercy. The negroes gathered
around him, and prayed with him till
God in his mercy pardoned and com-
forted him. The overseer now became
a co-worker with Punch among them ;
he joined the nearest Methodist church,
and in time became an exhorter, and
finally a preacher ! Punch had now full
liberty to do good among his associates.
He exhorted, prayed, and led them on,
as a shepherd his flock, and extended
his usefulness around the whole neigh-
borhood. After many years he was re-
moved, by the decease of his master
and the distribution of the estate, to
the parish of A., where he continued to
‘labor for the souls of his fellow bond-
men with still greater success. Scores
and even hundreds were converted
through his instrumentality, and he sus-
tained a kind of pastoral charge over
them for years.
110. Various Interesting Uenvenions.
ta) THE MINISTER’S DIREC_
TlON.—A Christian minister some years
ago, on returning from preaching in a
neighboring village, was asked by an

individual to direct him to a certain
place. His request was attended to,
and when the stranger was thanking
him for his kindness, the minister 1e-
plied, “ Take care, my friend, you are
in the right way at last.” These words
appeared long to sound in the man’s
ears, and, What could the gentleman
mean by them'.2 was an inquiry often
presented to his mind, and whica at
length led to the salvation of his seal.
Some years had passed away, with all
their attendant cares, joys, and sorrows,
when the minister was solicited to
preach at Ludlow, Salop. After the
service, he was requested to visit a mem-
ber of the church, who was in Lying
circumstances. As soon as he came
near, the dying man fixed his eyes on
the countenance of the minister, and,
with a peculiarly significant look, and
emphatic voice, said, “ Sir,I know you!
I know you!” “ Know me !” replied
the minister; “ how can that be '2 for I
am a stranger here.” “I know you
sir,” again he replied. “Do you not
remember,” said he, “ some years ago,
a person asking you the way to such a
place, and your returning with him,
putting him in the right path, and when
we were parting saying to him, “My
friend, take care you are in the right
way at last '2" “ No, I do not,” replied
the minister; for it had completely
escaped his memory. “Yes, you did,
sir,” rejoined the dying man , “ I have
not forgotten it, nor ever shall forget
it. ‘ The right way at last ;’ Oh, sir,
am I in that way now? I cannot live
long, I feel that I am dying; tell me,
Oh, tell me, if I am in the right way.”
The minister questioned him as to his
faith in Christ, and on other important
points, to which the dying man returned
suitable and satisfactory answers. Af-
ter which the minister affectionately
and earnestly recommended him in
prayer to God, and left him. In a few
days his mortal career ended.
(b) THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS
CLERICAL PATIENT.—It would not
be easy to calculate the good that might
be done, were true religion more preva-
lent among our medical men, who have
constant access to bedsides, which the
pious minister, however anxious and
226
THEIDUTY'NEGLECTED.
110,111
Willing, is sometimes not permitted to
approach.
Dr. — was visiting a gentleman who
appeared very much agitated on being
informed by him of the nature of his
complaint, which Dr.— observing, he
said to him, “ Sir, you seem very much
distressed about your body; do you feel
the same anxiety about your soul '2”
The gentleman was extremely irritated
at the question, and the more so as he
was a clergyman ; but he subsequently
thought of it, and told Dr. — that he
dated the origin of his anxious concern
for salvation to that remark.
(c) “A VVORD IN SEASON.”-—
The Rev. Peter Mill, a zealous and
venerable minister of the Gospel, being
on a pedestrian excursion in Yorkshire
(Eng.), came to the brink of a large
pit, which was so completely covered
with the drifted snow as to conceal all
danger from the unwary traveller.
Just at that imminent moment, when, had
he stepped forward, it is more than pro-
bable he would have plunged into the
gulf of death, a young woman coming
up, discovered to him his perilous con-
dition. Grateful to the First Cause of
his deliverance, he was not unmindful
of the iitstrzunent of it: and desirous of
making her some important return for
the service she had rendered him,‘ he
informed her that he was a minister of
Christ, whose oflice it was to call sin-
ners to repentance. And with much
gratitude and earnestness, he exhorted
her to flee from the wrath to come, en-
treating her seriously to consider that
her youth was no security from death,
and expressing a most ardent desire
that he might be the means of saving
her soul from the more awful pit than
that from which she had been in-
strumental in saving his body.
What he said to her was “ a word in
season ;” for, while gratitude sparkled
in his eyes, and his countenance ex-
pressed more than his tongue could de-
clare, she could not doubt the truth of
his assertions; and such was the im-
pression of his discourse on her mind,
that she began earnestly to cry, “ VVhat
must I do to be saved!” She soon
obtained ease to her troubled conscience,
and an assurance that her sins were
we’
pardoned. And about eight weeks
after this, she died, happy in the conse-
lations of religion.
(cl) THE CLERGYMAN CON-
VERTED.—The excellent Joseph ‘Vil-
liams, of Kidderminster, relates, in his
diary, that in the year 1754, he was
unexpectedly induced to take a journey ;
and, while out on his way, to ride to
Bradford, in Wiltshire, on a stormy
night. On a Monday, he called on a
clergyman, the vicar of the town, and
just as the party, to whom he was thus
introduced, was breaking up, a'young
clergyman, the curate of the parish,
came in. A pious friend, who accom-
panied Mr. VVilliams, requested him to
speak to the curate: and with some re-
luctance he advanced towards him with
the important inquiry, “Sir, how does
your soul prosper fl” He seemed dis-
concerted, and replied in a languid
manner. Next morning, he sent for
Mr. Williams, and told him that the
conversation was deeply impressed on
his mind, that he feared the state of his
soul was bad, and desired some further
intercourse. They conversed, they
prayed, and, after they separated, kept
up a correspondence mutually gratify-
ing. The clergyman afterwards gave
abundant evidence of piety, and of great
faithfulness to the souls committed to his
charge.
111. The Duty Neglected.
(a) THE CLERK’S LAMENT.--
A writer in the Christian Soldier, gives
the following incident which was related
to him by an esteemed Christian bro-
ther ;—-
Some few years ago I was clerk in a
store in One day a hired man
of my employer, whom I knew to be
destitute of religion, came into my store.
I felt it to be my duty to speak to him
upon the subject of his soul’s salvation ;
but my wicked heart invented a thou-
sand excuses. ‘ He may not receive it
kindly, thought I, since I am younger
than he; I had better keep silence un-
til a more favorable opportunity.’ Con-
science told me these excuses were vain,
and a voice seemed to say to me, ‘ Speak
to this man ;’ but I refused to listen.

227
Ill
CONVERSATION, RELIGIOUS, WITH THE IMPENITENT.

But mark the sequel. The next day
he was taken sick, became deranged,
and on the third day, died ! O!
thought I, that I had listened to the
voice of God’s Spirit and done my duty.
Perhaps I might have saved his soul
from perdition; at least I might have
cleared my own skirts, and washed my
hands in innocence. But now, alas ! it
is too late ! for ever too late ! His doom
is irrevocably sealed !
(5) THE UNFAITHFUL MO-
THER.—A Christian minister calling
at the house of one of his friends, found
him and his wife in deepest distress,from
the sudden death of their only child.
He attempted to console the distracted
parents ; but the mother replied, “Ah,
sir, these consolations might assuage my
grief for the loss of my child, but they
cannot blunt the stings of my conscience,
which are as daggers in my heart. It
was but last week I was thinking, ‘ My
child is now twelve years of age; his
mind is rapidly expanding ; I know he
thinks and feels beyond the measure of
his years, and a foolish backwardness
has hitherto kept me from entering so
closely into conversation with him as to
tliscover the real state of his mind, and
.0 make a vigorous effort to lead his
heart to God.’ I then resolved to seize
the first opportunity to discharge a duty
so weighty on the conscience of a Chris-
tian parent ; but day after day my
foolish deceitful heart said, ‘I will do it
to-morrow.’ On the very day that he
was taken ill, I had resolved to talk to
him that evening ; and when he at first
complained of his head, I was half
pleased with the thought, that this
might incline him to listen more serious-
ly to what I should say. But Oh, sir,
his pain and fever increased so rapidly,
that I was obliged to put him immediate-
ly to bed, and as he seemed inclined to
ioze, I was glal to leave him to rest.
From that time he was never sufficiently
sensible for conversation; and now he
is gone into eternity, and l1as left me
distracted with anxiety concerning the
salvation of his precious soul! Dila-
tory wretch ! had it not been for my own
sin,I might now have been consoling
myself with the satisfactory conviction
of having discharged the duty of a

a Q---n‘
Christian parent, and enjoying the de
lightful assurance of meeting my chile
before the throne of God and the Lamb.
Oh, the cursed sin of procrastination!
Oh, the ruinous delusion that lurks in
the word to-morrow !”
(c) DR. CI-IALMERS AND THE
NOBLEMAN.--Dr. Chalmers, on his
return from England, a few years ago,
lodged in the house of a nobleman, not
far distant from Peebles. The doctor
was known to excel in conversation, as
well as in the pulpit. He was the life
and soul of the discourse in the circle
of friends at the nobleman’s fire-side.
The subject was pauperism—-—its causes
and cure. Among the gentlemen pre-
sent, there was a venerable old Highland
chieftain, who kept his eyes fastened on
Dr. C., and listened with intense in-
terest to his communications. The con-
versation was kept up to a late hour.
YVhen the company broke up, they were
shown up stairs into their apartments.
There was a lobby of considerable
length, and the doors of the bed-cham-
bers opened on the right and left. The
apartment of Dr. C. was directly op-
posite to that of the old chieftain, who
had already retired with his attendant.
As the doctor was undressing himself,
he heard an unusual noise in the chief-
tain’s room; the noise was succeeded
by a heavy groan! He hastened into
the apartment, which was in a few mi-
nutes filled with the company, who all
rushed in to the relief of the old gentle
man. It was a melancholy sight which
met their eyes. The venerable white-
headed chief had fallen into the arms of
his attendant in an apoplexy. He
breathed for a few moments, and ex-
pired. Dr. C. stood in silence, with
both hands stretched out, and bending
over the deceased. He was the very
picture of distress. He was the first to
break silence. “Never in my life,”
said he, in a tremulous voice, “didI
see, or didI feel, before this moment,
the meaning of that text, ‘Preach the
word : be instant in season, and out of
seasan ; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with all
long-suffering and doctrine.’ Had I
known that my venerable old friend was
within a few minutes of eternity, I
would not have lwelt on that subject
<3
228
COURAGE, MORAL.
111,112
which formed the topic of this evening’s
conversation. I would have addressed
myself earnestly to him. I would have
preached unto him and you, Christ
Jesus, and him crucified. I would
have urged him and you, with all the ear-
nestness befitting the subject, to prepare
for eternity. You would have thought
it, and you would have pronounced it,
out of season. But ah! it would have
been in season, both as it respected him,
and as it respects you.”
(cl) THE DYING DAUGHTER.-—
A Christian minister, in Yorkshire,
had long felt convinced of his sinfulness,
in neglecting to converse on spiritual
topics with a beloved child. She was
brought to the verge of the grave, and
was, in his apprehension, an unconvert-
ed child. His feelings were painfully
distressing ; for he felt forcibly the im-
portance of his duty in apprising her of
her danger; but till nearly her dying
hour he continued to experience the
backwardness he had long felt. Re-
peatedly did he enter her room to ad-
dress her, and unwilling to add the
weight of mental anxiety to her bodily
aflliction, he as often retired without
accomplishing his object. His con-
science pained him, for he feared that
his misjudging fondness might contribute
to her eternal ruin. At length, after
repeated petitions for Divine assistance,
he once more approached her bed, and
pressing her hand, said, in broken
words, “Has an eternal state, my dear-
est daughter, ever engaged your atten-
tion '2” This was all he could utter.
To his astonishment and joy, she im-
mediately replied, “Yes, father; un-
der a sermon that you preached from
Romans iii. upon man’s lost condition,
I was convinced that I was in a state of
aondemnation. Since that time I have
been unable to procure any consolation,

and I fear I shall be lost for ever.”
Her tears tbr some time prevented her
from saying more: but when able to
proceed, she told him that she had long
wished to make known to him the state
of her mind. Overcome with joy at
this unexpected answer, he endeavored
to convince her of the certainty of sal-
vation to all who, conscious of their de-
pravity, confide in the merits of the
Redeemer, for acceptance with God.
Her distress was continued for two days
longer, when, resting entirely on Christ,
every degree of gloom was removed,
and she was favored for fifteen days
with holy peace and joy. Christ was
increasingly precious to her, and her
father had the blcssedness of witnessing
her triumphant departure, in full as-
surance of hope, in the fifteenth year
of her age.
(6) AN UNFAITHFUL FATHER.
—A father who had a son in college,
requested a minister who was going
through the town where he was, to call
on him and converse with him in re-
ference to the salvation of his soul.
The minister called, agreeable to the re-
quest of the father, and introduced the
subject of religion. He alluded to the
feelings and request of the father, who
wished him by all means to attend first
to the salvation of his soul. The young
man replied, “Did my father send such
word as that ?” “ He did,” was the re-
ply. “ Then,” said the young man, “ My
father is a dishonest man.” “ But why
do you say he is dishonest?” said the
minister. “ Because,” replied the stu-
dent, “he has often advised me, in re-
gard to the course he would have me pur-
sue in life, how to gain the riches, honors,
and pleasures of the world, but he is not
the man that has ever manifested any
interest in regard to the salvation of my
soul, any more than if I had no soul !”
112. COURAGE, MORAL
(a) THE BlSHOP’S REPLY.-
Philip, Bishop of I-Ieraclea, in the be-
ginning of the 4th century, was drag-
ged by the feet through the streets,
severely scourged, and then brought
again to the governor, who charged him
with obstinate rashness, in continuing
disobedient to the imperial decrees ; but
he boldly rephed, “ My present be-
havior is not tne effect of rashness, but
229
[I2
COURAGE, MORAL.

proceeds from my love and fear of God,
who made the world, and who will
iudge the living and the dead, whose
commands I dare not transgress. I have
hitherto done my duty to the emperors,
and am always ready to comply with
their just orders, according to the doc-
trine of our Lord Christ, who bids us
give both to Caesar and to God their
due; but I am obliged to prefer heaven
to earth, and to obey God rather than
man.” The governor, on hearing this
speech, immediately passed sentence on
him to be burnt, which was executed
accordingly, and the martyr expired,
singing praises to God in the midst of
the flames.
(Z2) CHRYSOSTOM IN EXILE.-—
“I/Vhen driven from the city,I cared
rothing for it. But I said to myself,
if the empress wishes to banish me, the
earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness
thereof. If she would saw me in sun-
der, let her saw me in sunder ; I have
Isaiah for a pattern. If she would
plunge me in the sea; I remember
Jonah. If she would thrust me into
the fiery furnace; I see the three chil-
dren enduring that. If she would cast
me to wild beasts; I call to mind
Daniel in the den of lions. If she would
stone me, let her stone me; I have be-
fore me Stephen the protomartyr. If
she would take my head from me, let
her take it; I have John the Baptist.
If she would deprive me of my worldly
goods, let her do it; naked came I from
my mother’s womb, and naked shall I
return. An apostle has told me ‘ God
respecteth no man’s person,’ and if I
yet pleased men, I should not be a ser-
vant of Christ.” Even Gibbon cannot
refrain from remarking, that these
epistles “ show a firmness of mind much
superior to that of Cicero in his exile.”
(c) DEATH OF JEROME.-—
When the executioner went behind
Jerome of Prague to set fire to the pile,
“Come here,” said the martyr, “and
kindle it before my eyes; for, if I
ureaded such a sight, I should never
have come to this place when I had a
free opportunity to escape.” The fire
was kindled, and he then sung a hymn,
which was soon finished by the encir-
fling flames.

(cl) LUTHER’S FORTITUDE.-
Vergerio, the Papal nuncio, came to
I/Virtemberg on the evening of Novem-
ber 6, 1535, with a splendid retinue,
and was conducted to the castle with all
due honor by the principal governor.
The next morning, Luther being intro-
duced, conversed with the riuncio;
among other things, on the subject of
the council. He said it was not serious-
ly proposed ; the pope did but play with
them; and, if it were held, it would
busy itself only about trifles, such as
tonsures and vestments, and not upon
faith, and justification, and bringing
Christians to the unity of the Spirit and
of doctrine; for this would not suit
their purpose. He added, that he and
his friends felt such an assurance of
what they believed, as not to need the
determination of a council, though others
might do it, who groaned under the
oppression of men who did not them-
selves know what they believed. “ But,”
said he, “ call your council ; God will-
ing, I will attend it, though I should be
burned by it.” Vergerio asked where
he would have it held. “I/Vhere you
please,” he replied, “at Mantua, at
Padua, at Florence, or any where else.’
Vergerio asked, “Are you willing it
should be at Bologna '2” He inquired
to whom that city then belonged; and
on being told, “ To the pope,” he ex-
claimed, “Has the pope seized that
place too? Well, I will go even
thither.” The nuncio, in a courtier-
like manner, said something of the
popc’s visiting VVirtemberg. “ Let him
come,” said Luther; “ we shall be
glad to see him.” “But,” said Ver-
gerio, “ would you have him come with
an army, or unattended '?” “As he
pleases,” replied Luther; “we shall
be ready for him either way.” The
nuncio then inquired whether the minis
ters in Saxony were consecrated. Lu-
ther replied, “Certainly: as the pope
will not consecrate them for us, here
sits a bishop,” (pointing to Pomeranus,)
“ whom we have consecrated.” Much
more conversation, says the author of
the narrative, passed between them, in
which Luther fully explained his views,
with the utmost freedom, and even,‘
where the case required, with sharpness
230
COURAGE, MORAL.
an
ll2
of remark. On taking leave, Vergerio I
said, “See that you be ready for the
council.” “I will come,” replied Lu-
ther, “ with my life in my hand.”
On another occasion, Luther, when
making his way into the presence of
Cardinal Cajetan, who had summoned
him to answer for his heretical opinions
at Augsburgh, was asked by one of the
cardinal’s minions, where he should
find a shelter if his patron, the elector
of Saxony, should desert him'2 “ Under
the shield of Heaven!” was his reply.
The silenced minion turned round, and
went his way.
(e) LUTHER SUMMONED TO
VVORMS.-—When Luther was sum-
moned to attend the diet at VVorms, his
friends, notwithstanding the safe-con-
duct granted to him by the emperor
Charles V., apprehending danger to his
person, would have dissuaded him from
going thirher. Luther replied, “I am
determined to enter the city in the name
of the Lord Jesus Christ, though as
many devils should oppose me as there
are tiles upon all the houses at Worms.”
He was accompanied from Wirtemberg
by some divines, and one hundred horse ;
but he took only eight horsemen into
Worms. VVhen he stept out of the
carriage, he said, in the presence of a
great number of persons, “ God shall
be on my side.”
) CASE OF WICKLIFF.—At
one period of his life, this eminent re-
former’s health was considerably im-
paired by the labor of producing his
numerous compositions, and the excite-
ments inseparable from the restless hos-
tilities of his enemies. Beingsupposed
to be in dangerous circumstances, his old
antagonists, the mendicants, conceived it
next to impossible that so notorious a
heretic should find himself near a future
world without the most serious appre-
hensions of Divine anger. VVhile they
declared that the dogmas of the reformer
had arisen from the suggestions of the
great enemy, they anticipated some
advantages to their cause, could the
dying culprit be induced to make any
recantation of his published opinions.
Wicklifl‘ Was in Oxford when this sick-
ness arrested his activity, and confined
him to his chamber. From the four
orders of friars, four doctors, who were
also called regents, were gravely de-
puted to wait on their expiring enemy;
and to these the same number of civil
officers, called senators of the city, and
aldermen of the wards, were added.
When this embassy entered the apart-
ment of the rector of Lutterworth, he
was seen stretched on his bed. Some
kind wishes were first expressed as to
his better health, and the blessing of a
speedy recovery. It was presently
suggested, that he must be aware of the
many wrongs which the whole mendi-
cant brotherhood had sustained from his
attacks, especially in his sermons, and
in certain of his writings 5 and, as death
was now apparently about to remove
him, it was sincerely hoped that he
would not conceal his penitence, but
distinctly revoke whatever he had
preferred against them to their injury.
The sick man remained silent and mo-
tionless until this address was concluded.
He then beckoned his servants to raise
him in his bed ; and fixing his eyes on
the persons assembled, summoned all
his remaining strength, as he ex-
claimed aloud, “I shall not die, but
live; and shall again declare the evil
deeds of the friars.” The doctors and
their attendants now hurried from his
presence, and they lived to feel the
truth of his saying; nor will it be
easy to imagine another scene more
characteristic of the parties composing
it, or of the times in which it occurred.
' (g) HOOPER AT THE STAKE.
—Bishop Hooper was condemned to be
burned at Gloucester, in Queen Mary’s
reign. A gentleman, with the view of
inducing him to recant, said to him,
“Life is sweet, and death is bitter.”
Hooper replied, “ The death to come is
more bitter, and the life to come more
sweet. I am come hither to end this
life, and suffer death, because‘ I will
not gainsay the truth I have here for-
merly taught you.” When brought to
the stake, a box, with a pardon from
the queen in it, was set before him.
The determined martyr cried out, “If
you love my soul, away with it: if you
love my soul. away with it.”
(It) LATIMER GOING TO LON.

DON--In the beginning of the reign
231
I12
COUR AGE, MORAL

of Queen Mary of England, a pursui-
vant was sent to bring Bishop Latimer
to London, of which he had notice six
hours before he arrived. But instead
of fleeing, he prepared for his journey
to London; and, when the pursuivant
was come, he said to him, “ My friend,
you are welcome. I go as willingly
to London, to give an account of my
faith, as ever I went to any place in
the world. And I doubt not, but as the
Lord made me worthy formerly to
preach the word before two excellent
princes, he will now enable me to bear
witness to the truth before the third,
either to her eternal comfort or discom-
fort.” As he rode on this occasion
through Smithfield, he said, “That
Smithfield had groaned for him a long
time.”
(2') KNOX BEFORE THE QUEEN.
-—-The pure heart-searching doctrines
which were preached by this Scotch
apostle, were then, as they are now,
offensive to the carnal heart, and hence
he was commanded by the voluptuous
court of Mary to desist. Knox, who
knew no master and obeyed no mandate
that was in opposition to his God and
his Bible, paid no attention to this com-
mand of the palace. Hearing imme-
diately from the enemies of the cross,
who were then, as I fear they are at
present, the favorites and friends of the
palace, that her orders were disobeyed,
the haughty Mary summoned the Scot-
tish reformer into her presence. When
Knox arrived he was ushered into the -
room in which were the queen and her
attendant lords. On being questioned
concerning his contumacy, he answered
plainly that he preached nothing but
truth, and he dared not preach less.
“But,” answered one of the lords, “our
commands must be obeyed on pain of
death; silence or the gallows is the
alternative.” The spirit of Knox was
roused by the dastardly insinuation
that any human punishment could
make him desert the banner of his Sa-
vior, and with that fearless, indescrib-
able courage which disdains the pomp
of language or of action, he firmly
replied, “My lords, you are mistaken
if you think you can intimidate me to
do by threats what conscience and God

tell me I never shall do; for be it
known unto you that it is a matter of no
importance to me, when I have finished
my work, whether my bones shall
bleach in the winds of heaven or rot in
the bosom of the earth.” Knox having
retired, one of the lords said to the
queen, “ We may let him alone, for we
cannot punish that man.” WVell, there-
fore, might it be said by a nobleman at
the grave of John Knox, “Here lies
one who never feared the face of man.”
(j) FLETCHER AND HIS NE.
PHEW.—The Rev. Mr. Fletcher of
England, had a very wild and profligate
nephew in the army, a man who had
been dismissed from the Sardinian ser-
vice for very bad conduct. He l!8.C.
engaged in two or three duels, and had
spent all his money in vice and folly.
The Wicked youth waited one day on
his eldest uncle, General De Gons, and
presenting a loaded pistol, threatened
to shoot him unless he would that mo-
ment advance him five hundred crowns.
The general, though a brave man, well
knew what a desperate fellow he had to
deal with, and gave a draft for the
money, at the same time speaking
freely to him on his conduct. The
young man rode off in high spirits with
his ill-gotten money. In the evening,
passing the door of his younger uncle,
Mr. Fletcher, he called on him, and
began with informing him what General
De Gons had done; and, as a proof,
showed a draft under De Gons’ own
hand. Mr. Fletcher took the draft from
his nephew, and looked at him with
surprise. Then after some remarks,
putting it into his pocket, said, “It
strikes me, young man, that you have
possessed yourself of this note by some
wrong method; and in conscience, I
cannot return it but with my brother’s
knowledge and approbation.” The
nephew’s pistol was in a moment at his
breast. “My life,” replied Mr. Flet-
cher, with perfect calmness, “is secure
in protection of an almighty power; nor
will he suffer it to be the forfeit of my
integrity and your rashness.” This
firmness drew from the nephew the ob.
servation, “That his uncle De Gons,
though an old soldier, was more afraid
of death than his bro*l1.er.” “Afraid
232
COURAGE, MORAL.
112
_-
of death !” rejoined Mr. Fletcher, “ do
you think I have been twenty-five
years a minister of the Lord of life, to
be afraid of death now’.Z No, sir, it is
for you to be afraid of death. You are
a gamester and a cheat; yet call your-
self a gentleman ! You are the seducer
of female innocence ; and still say you
are a gentleman! You are a duellist ;
and for this you style yourself a man
of honor ! Look there, sir,” pointing to
the heavens, “the broad eye of Heaven
is fixed upon us. Tremble in the pre-
sence of your Maker, who can in a
moment kill your body, and forever
punish your soul in hell.”
The unhappy young prodigal turned
ale, and trembled with fear and rage.
He still threatened his uncle with in-
stant death. Fletcher. though thus
threatened, gave no alarrn.'sought for
no weapon, and attempted not to escape.
He calmly conversed with his profligate
relative ; and at length perceiving him
to be affected, addressed him in the
kindest language, till he fairly disarmed
and subdued him! He would not re-
turn his brother’s draft; but engaged
to procure for the young man some
immediate relief. He then prayed for
him ; and after fulfilling his promise of
assistance, parted with him, with much
good advice on one side, and many fair
promises on the other.
(It) THE KING REPROVED.—
It is said that Henry the Great of
France, took much pleasure in convers-
ing with an honest and religious man
of low situation in life, who used great
freedom with his majesty. One day
he said to the king, “Sire, I always
take your part when Ihear any man
speaking evil of you: I know that you
excel in justice and generosity, and
that many worthy things have been
done by you. But you have one vice
for which God will condemn you, if you
do not repent,I mean the unlawful love
of women.” The king, it is said, was
.00 magnanimous to resent this reproof,
but be long felt it like an arrow in his
bosom; and sometimes said, that the.
most eloquent discourses of the doctors
of the Sorbonne had never made such
an impression on his soul, as this honest
Feproof from his humble friend.

(Z) HARRIS AND THE SOL.
DIERS.—Dr. Harris, the minister of
Hanwell, (Eng) during the civil wars,
frequently had military officers quar-
tered at his house. A party of them,
being unmindful of the reverence due
to the holy name of God, indulged them-
selves in swearing. The doctor noticed
this, and on the following Sabbath,
preached from these words :—“ Above
all things, my brethren, swear not.”
This so enraged the soldiers, who judged
the sermon was intended for them, that
they swore they V/Ollld shoot him if he
preached on the subject again. He
was not, however, to be intimidated;
and on the following Sabbath, he not
only preached from the same text, but
inveighed in still stronger terms against
the vice of swearing. As he was
preaching, a soldier levelled his carbine
at him; but he went on to the conclu-
sion of his sermon, without the slightest
fear or hesitation !
(m) I/VESLEY AND THE PAPA-
CY.--Mr. Samuel Wesley, the father of
the celebrated Mr. John I/Vesley, being
strongly importuned by the friends of
James the Second, to support the mea-
sures of the court in favor of Popery, with
promises of preferment, absolutely re-
fused even to read the king’s declara-
tion ; and though surrounded with cour-
tiers, soldiers, and informers, he preach-
ed a bold and pointed discourse against
it from these words :—“ If it be so, our
God whom we serve is able to deliver
us out of thy hand, O king. But if not,
be it known unto thee, O king, that
we will not serve thy gods, nor worship
the golden image which thou hast set
up.”
(n) “TOUCH ME IF YOU DARE.”
——Some of the Indian chiefs having be-
come the open enemies of the gospel,
Mr. Elliot, sometimes called the Apostle
of the American Indians, when in the
wilderness, without the company of any
other Englishman, was, at various times,
treated in a threatening and barbarous
manner by some of those men, yet his
Almighty Protector inspired him with
such resolution, that he said,—“I am
about the work of the Great God, and
my God is with me: so that I fear nei.
ther you, nor all the Sachems (or chiefs)
233
ll2
COURAGE, MORAL,
in the country. I will go on, and do
you touch me if you dare.” They
heard him, and shrunk away.
(0) EXCOMMUNICATING
A PRINCE.-—William IX, Duke of
Aquitaine and Earl of Poitiers, was a vi-
olent and dissolute prince, and often in-
dulged himself in improper behavior
at the expense of religion. Though he
had contracted a very suitable marriage,
and one with which he was satisfied for
some time, he parted from his wife with-
out reason, to marry another who
pleased him better. The Bishop of
Poitiers, where he resided, was a holy
prelate, named Peter. He could not
brook so great a scandal; and having
employed all other means in vain, he
thought it his duty to excommunicate
.he duke. As he began to pronounce
.he anathema, William furiously ad-
vanced, sword in hand, saying, “Thou
art dead if thou proceedest.” The bishop,
as if afraid, required a few moments to
consider what was most expedient. The
duke granted it, and the bishop coura-
geously finished the rest of the formula of
excommunication. After which, extend-
ing his neck, “Now strike,” said he, “I
am quite ready.” The astonishment
which this intrepid conduct produced in
the duke, disarmed his fury, and say-
ing ironically, “I don’t like you well
enough to send you to heaven,” he
contented himself with banishing him.
(go) HINTON AND THE UNWOR-
THY COMMUN ICAN T .—A person
who was not a member of Mr. James
Hinton’ s church in Oxford, nevertheless
enjoyed the privileges of Christian fel-
lowship, as being connected (according
to his own statement) with a well known
church in London. His conduct was
found to be inconsistent; it was ascer-
tained, also, that he had been excluded
from the community to which he had
declared himself to belong. It was
clearly necessary to inform him, there-
fore, that he could no longer be admit-
ted to the Lord’s table. But he was
rich, and he was passionate ; subject,
indeed, to paroxysms of rage, on ac-
count of which, every one was afraid to
mterfere with him. The measure was,
however, adopted by the church; but
When (according to their usual mode)

_ '
messengers were to be appointed to
communicate the result, the deacons
would not go; nor would any one go,
for all said, it was at the hazard of their
lives. “Then,” replied Mr. Hinton,
“I will go: my life is second to my
duty.” But no one would even accom-
pany him; and he went alone. i The
unhappy man’s wrath was exceedingly
high. When solemnly warned that no
such person as he was could “enter
into the kingdom of heaven,” he seized
a large stick, and threatened his re-
prover’s life: to which he replied,
“Then, sir, Ishall meet you next at
the bar of judgment; and you will re-
member that these were the last words
I uttered!” The enraged man imme-
diately threw down his weapon, and ran
about the room in agony, crying, “O
no, no, no, you shall not charge me
with murder!” Mr. Hinton records
the deliverance from — among his
“special mercies.”
(q) LAVATER AND THE PRE.
FECT.—-There lived in the city of
Zurich, a person who, though an un-
worthy character, was a member of its
senate. During the time he was pre-
fect over a district of the canton. he
had committed innumerable acts of the
grossest injustice,-—yea, such flagrant
crimes, that all the country people re-
proaehed and cursed him ; but no one
dared to prosecute him, as he was re-
lated to several members of the Zurich
government, and son-in-law to the chief
magistrate of the city. Mr. Lavater,
the celebrated physiognomist, having
often heard of the atrocities of the pre-
fect, committed against even helpless
widows and orphans, and having duly
examined into them, felt an irresistible
desire to plead the cause of the poor and
oppressed. He was aware that his
supporting this cause Would expose him
to the frowns of the great and the mighty,
and occasion much anxiety to his
friends; but conceiving it to be his
duty, he determined to proceed. Hav-
ing prepared himself by earnest prayer,
and consulted an intimate friend, he
addressed a letter to the prefect, II.
which he strongly reproaehed him for
his detestable actions, and plainly signi-
fied his intention to bring him to public

234
-_-—_‘— < -_’,-----r -- _ .---I 7-. _
COURTESY .
ll3
justice, should he riot restore his spoils
within two months. The time having
elapsed, and no restoration having been
made, Mr. Lavater proceeded to print a
solemn indictment against him, which
he caused to be delivered to every mem-
ber of the Zurich government. At first
he concealed his name ; but when
called upon, he came forward in the

most open manner, nobly avowed and
fully proved the points of his indidtmen
before the whole senate,——had the satis-
faction to see the wicked prefect (who,
conscious of his guilt, had saved him-
self by flight) solemnly condemned by
law, his unjust property confiscated,
and restoration made to oppressed po-
verty and innocence.
113. COURTESY.
(a) KING HENRY AND THE
POOR CITIZEN .—Henry IV, of
France, was standing one day with
some of his courtiers, at the entrance of
a village, and a poor man passing by,
bowed down to the very ground; and
the king, with great condescension, re-
turned his salutation just in the same
manner; at which one of his attendants
ventured to express his surprise, when
the monarch finely replied to him,--
“ Would you have your king exceeded
in politeness by one of the lowest of his
subjects ?”
([1) A GOOD REPLY.--When old
Zachariah Fox, the great merchant of
Liverpool, was asked by what means he
contrived to realize so large a fortune as
he possessed, his reply was, “Friend, by
one article alone, in which thou may’st
deal too if thou pleasest——civility.”
(0) THE POPE AND HIS AM-
BASSADOR.—It is related of Pope
Clement XIV, (Ganganelli,) that when
he ascended the papal chair, the ambas-
sadors of the several state s represented
at his court Waited on him with their
congratulations. VVhen they were in-
troduced and bowed, he returned the
compliment by bowing also; on which
the master of the ceremonies told his
highness that he should not have returned
their salute. “ O, I beg your pardon,”
said the good pontiff, I have not been pope
long enough to forget good manners.”
(cl) DR. FURNAM AND THE
N EGRESS.——Dr. Furnam was once
present in a small company of brethren
who had assembled to dine with a com-
mon triend, when the usual style by
which they addressed each other,
Was that affectionate appellative of bro-

ther. Those present were very exact
in using this mode of address. While
their conversation was in progress, and
they were freely brothering each other,
there came in an aged colored woman,
well known for her piety and good
character. The brethren present sa-
luted her, one in this manner and ano-
ther in that—thus : “ Well, old woman,"
“How-de, mamma;” “How-de, Cla-
rinda,” and so on.
When she came to Dr. Furnam, he
leaned forward, extended to her his
hand, and said: “ How do you do, sis-
ter Clarinda '2” He might have de-
signed his salutation to the old woman
as a gentle reproof to those present, who
did not seem to feel the true equality
in which all who know the religion of
Christ stand as brethren.
(e) LOUIS XIV AND HIS AN.
ECDOTE.-—Louis the XIVth, in a gay
party at Versailles, thought he per-
ceived an opportunity of relating a
facetious story. He commenced, but
ended the tale abruptly and insipidly.
One of the company soon after leaving
the room, the king said, “I am sure
you must all have observed how very
uninteresting my anecdote was. Idid
not recollect till I began, that the turn
of the narrative reflected very severely
on the immediate ancestor of the prince,
or Armigue, who has just quitted us;
and on this, as on every occasion, I
think it far better to spoil a good story,
than distress a. worthy man.”
THE OFF-ICER’S HAT.—-
An Englishman, taking the grand tour,
towards the middle of the eighteenth
century, when travellers were more
objects of attention than at present, on
235
113,114
CREDULITY.
arriving at Turin, sauntered out to see
the place. He happened to meet a re-
giment of infantry returning from pa-
rade, and taking a position to see it
pass, a young captain, evidently de-
sirous of making a display before the
stranger, in crossing one of the nume-
rous water-courses with which the city
is intersected, missed his footing, and
trying to save himself, lost his hat.
The spectators laughed, and looked at
the Englishman, expecting him to laugh
too. On the contrary, he not only re-
tained his composure, but promptly ad-
vanced to where the hat rolled, and
taking it up, presented it with an air of
kindness to its confused owner. The
officer received it with a blush of sur-
prise and gratitude, and hurried to re-
join his company. There was a mur-
mur of applause, and the stranger pass-
ed on. Though the scene of a mo-
ment, and without a word spoken, it
touched every heart.
On the regiment being dismissed, the
captain, who was a young man of con-
sideration, in glowing terms related the
circumstance to his colonel. The colo-
nel immediately mentioned it to the ge-
neral in command ; and when the
Englishman returned to his hotel, he
found an aid-de-camp waiting to request
his company at dinner, at head quar-
tars. In the evening he was taken to
court, at that time the most brilliant
court in Europe, and was received with
particular attention. Of course during
is stay at Turin he was invited every
where; and on his departure he was
loaded with letters of introduction to the
different States of Italy. Thus a pri-
vate gentleman of moderate means, by
a graceful impulse of Christian feeling,

was enabled to tray el through a foreign
country, then of the hignest interest for
its society as well as for the charms it
still possesses, with more real distinction
and advantage than can ever be derived
from the mere circumstance of birth and
fortune, even the most splendid.
(g) A GOOD MAXIM.—It was a
maxim of a celebrated minister, “that
if a child but lisped to give you pleasure,
you ought to be pleased.” When oc-
casionally preaching in the villages, he
used to be delighted in visiting the poor,
and, when solicited, would regale him-
self with their brown bread and black
tea; but took care, at the same time,
that they should lose nothing by their at-
tention. “When a poor person shows
anxiety to administer to your comfort,”
he would say, “do not interrupt him°
Why deprive him of the pleasure of ex-
pressing his friendship '2”
(h) EASY WAY TO CONFER
HAPPINESS.---“ If a civil word or two
will render a man happy,” said a
French king, “he must be wretched
indeed who will not give them to him.”
Were superiors to keep this in view,
yea, were all mankind to observe it,
how much happier would the world be
than what it is! We may say of this
disposition, “that it is like lighting
another man’s candle by one’s own,
which loses none of its light by what
the other gains.”
UNFASHIONABLE BOW.-—
When Sir William Johnson returned
the salute of a negro who had bowed to
him, he was reminded that he had done
what was very unfashionable. “Per-
haps so,” said Sir William, “ but I
would not be outdone in good manners
by a negro.”
1 14. CREDULITY.
(a) FAITH OF THE COLLIER.-—
Implicit faith has been sometimes styled
fides carhonaria, from the story of one
who, examining an ignorant collier on
his religious principles, asked him what
it was that he believed. He answered,
“I believe what the church believes.”
The other rejoined, “What, then, does
.he church believe '2” He replied,

readily, “The church believes what I
believe.” The other, desirous, if pos-
sible, to bring him to particulars, once
more resumed his inquiry. “ Tell me,
then, I pray you, what it is which you
and the church both believe.” The
only answer the collier could give was,
“ Why, truly, sir, the church andl bot‘
-—believe the same thing.”
236
CRUELTY EXEMPLIFIED.
ll5
CRUELTY.
116. Cruelty Exemplified.
(a) CRUELTY OF COMMODUS.
---Nothing can be more contrary to
nature, to reason, to religion, than
cruelty. Hence an inhuman man is
generally considered as a monster.
Such monsters, however, have existed;
and the heart almost bleeds at the recital
of the cruel acts such have been guilty
of. It teaches us, however, what hu-
man nature is when left to itself; not
only treacherous above all things, but
desperately wicked. _
Commodus, the Roman emperor,
when but twelve years old, gave a
shocking instance of his cruelty, when,
finding the water in which he bathed too
warm, he commanded the person who
attended the bath to be thrown into the
furnace, nor was he satisfied till those
who were about him pretended to put
his order in execution. After his suc-
cession to the empire, he equalled, if he
did not exceed in cruelty, Caligula,
Domitian, and even Nero himself; play-
ing, we may say, with the blood of his
subjects and fellow-creatures, of whom
he caused great numbers to be racked
and butchered in his presence merely
for his diversion. Historians relate
many instances of his cruelty. He
caused one to be thrown to wild beasts
for reading the life of Caligula written
by Suetonius; because the tyrant and
he had been born on the same day of the
month, and in many bad qualities re-
sembled each other. Seeing one day a
co rpulent man pass by, he immediately
cut him asunder, partly to try his
strength, in which he excelled all men,
and partly out of curiosity, as he him-
self owned, to seeh1s entrails drop out
at once. He took pleasure in cutting
off the feet and putting out the eyes of
such as he met in his rambles through
the city. Some he murdered because
they were negligently dressed; others
because they seemed trimmed with too
much nicety. He assumed the name
and habit of Hercules, appearing pub-

licly in a lion’s skin, with a huge club
in his hand, and ordering several per-
sons, though not guilty of any crimes,
to be disguised like monsters, that by
knocking out their brains, he might
have a better claim to the title, the great
destroyer of monsters. He, however,
was destroyed in his turn: one of his
concubines, whose death he had pur
posed, poisoned him; but, as the poison
did not quickly operate, he was stran
gled by a wrestler in the thirty-first
year of his age.
(b) TI-IE TUTOR’S PREDICTION
RESPECTIN G TIBERIUS. -— Theo-
dorus Gaddaraeus, who was tutor to Ti-
berius the Roman Emperor, observing
in him, while a boy, a very sanguinary
nature and disposition, which lay lurk-
ing under a show of lenity, was wont to
call him, “ a lump of clay steeped and
soaked in blood.” His predictions of
him did not fail in the event. Tiberius
thought death was too light a punish-
ment for any one that displeased him.
Hearing that one Carnulius, who had
displeased him, had cut his own throat,
“ Carnulius,” said he, “has escaped
me.” To another, who begged of him
that he might die quickly, “ No,” said
he, “you are not so much in favor as
that yet.”
(0) PETITION OF THE HORSE.
-—In the days of John, King of Atri, (an
ancient city of Abruzzo,) there was a
bell put up, which any one that had re-
ceived any injury went and rang, and
the king assembled the wise men chosen
for the purpose, that justice might be
done. It happened that, after the bell
had been up a long time, the rope was
worn out, and a piece of wild vine was
made use of to lengthen it. N ow there
was a knight of Atri who had a noble
charger, which had become triservicea,
ble through age, so that, to avoid the ex.
pense of feeding him, he turneu him
loose upon the common. The horse
driven by hunger, raised his mouth to
the vine to munch it, and, pulling it, the
bell rang. The judges asseinliled to
237
ll6
CRUELTY.
consider the petition of the horse, which
appeared to demand justice. They de-
creed that the knight whom he had served
in his youth should feed him in his old
age ; a sentence which the king con-
firmed under a heavy penalty.
116. Cruelty Punished.
ta) DEAR-BOUGHT SPORT.-A
few years since, at a place near Pen-
zance, some men and boys, accompanied
by two young women, having fastened
a bullock’s born to the tail of a dog,
turned the aifrighted animal loose, and
followed it with brutal exultations.
The dog, pursued by its savage tor-
mentors, ran down a road called Tre-
reife Lane, when meeting a cart drawn
by two horses, laden with coals, the
horses took fright ; the driver, who was
sitting on the shafts of the cart, was
thrown off, and the wheels passing over
his head, he was killed on the spot.
The persons who had occasioned this
melancholy accident immediately sus-
pended their chase of the dog, and the
young women, on coming up, found
that the lad, who had been killed by
their mischievous frolic, was their bro-
ther !
(Z2) THE BLIND MAN’S ENE-
MY.-—Some years ago, there lived in
the village of Sutton Basset, in Lei-
cestershire, an elderly man who was
quite blind, but who, from his early
acquaintance and familiarity with the
place pefore this great misfortune befell
him, was enabled to find his way about
the village and surrounding fields with-
out a guide. He was particularly the
butt and jest of a poor sinful woman,
who lived near the footpath stile, and
who recognized not the hand of God in
his afiiiction. She frequently attempted
to impose on him for the mere purpose
of plaguing and distressing him, and
had one day contrived a very disagreea-
ble vexation, which, to her merriment,
succeeded. But, shortly after this, she
gave birth to a son, who was born stone
blind; and her following chlid, a son,
was also born blind ; and these two un-
fortunate youths were living, in 1833, in
the above-named village, and obtained a
precarious livelihood by opening the
--.. -’,
gates for passengers, on the roads ad
joining the place, with the addition of
a small allowance from the parish.
They were two fine grown lads, and
of about equal size. They were re-
garded by their neighbors as the ob-
jects of God’s just displeasure against
the wanton and foolish wickedness of
their parent. We may be sure sin will
find us out: if not always in this world,
it will in the next; but even here sin-
ners are not always exempted from pun-
ishment.
(c) BAJAZET PRONOUNCING
HIS OWN SENTENCE.-Tamen
lane the Great, having made war on
Bajazet, Emperor of the Turks, over-
threw him in battle, and took him priso-
ner. The victor gave the captive mon-
arch at first a very civil reception ; and
entering into familiar conversation with
him, said, “Now, king, tell me freely
and truly what thou wouldst have done
with me, had I fallen into thy power '2”
Bajazet, who was of a fierce and
haughty spirit, is said to have thus
replied : “ Had the gods given unto me
the victory, I would have enclosed thee
in an iron cage, and carried thee about
with me as a spectacle of derision to
the world.” Tamerlane wrathfully
replied, “Then, proud man, as thou
wouldst have done to me, even so shall
I do unto thee.” A strong iron cage
was made, into which the fallen empe-
ror was thrust; and thus exposed like
a wild beast, he was carried along in
the train of his conqueror. Nearly
three years were passed by the once
mighty Bajazet in this cruel state of
durance ; and at last being told that he
must be carried into Tartary, despair.
ing of then obtaining his freedom, he
struck his head with such violence
against the bars of his cage, as to put
an end to his wretched life.
(d) CRUELTY OF LOUIS XI._..
Philip de Comines, in his “Life of
Louis XI,” has not concealed the dread.
ful cruelties and extortions by which
he rendered himself one of the most
odious monarchs that ever swayed the
seeptre of France. Stronger colors
could not be employed than those in
which he describes his loathsome dun-
geons, his iron cages, and chain nets.
‘.238
CRUELTY AND BENEVOLENCE COMBINED.
116, I17

Claude de Seyssel, another historian,
says, “That about the places where he
was, were seen great numbers of peo-
ple hanging on trees; and the prisons
and other neighboring houses, full of
prisoners, which were often heard, both
by day and night, to cry out through
the torments they endured; besides
those who were secretly cast into the
rivers.” The same historian observes,
“That this king carried his absolute
power to excess. He caused Tristan,
his provost, to take the prisoners who
were in the palace gaol, and drown
them near the Grange aux Morcier.”
Mezaria, another historian, relates,
“ That he had put to death above four
thousand, by different punishments,
which he sometimes delighted to see.
Most of them had been executed with-
out form of law ; several drowned with
a stone tied to their necks ; others pre-
cipitated, going over a swipe, from
whence they fell upon wheels, armed
with spikes and cutting instruments;
others were strangled in dungeons;
Tristan, his companion and provost of
his palace, being at once judge, witness,
and executioner.”
It is a remarkable fact, that the
Bishop of Verdun, who assisted Louis
in the invention of his iron cage, was
himself put into the first that was made,
and confined to it for fourteen days;
and that the king himself, not long be-
fore his death, was obliged to make
himself a close prisoner in one of his
strongest castles, from a dread of that
thirst for vengeance with which his
cruel conduct had inspired, not only his
nobles and subjects, but the very mem-
bers of his own family. '
(e) A BULL-BAITING.—-Impro-
per and cruel amusements are often
attended with danger ; and the end of
such mirth is heaviness. Some years

ago, at the termination of a fair, annu-
ally held at Rochdale, in Lancashire, it
was determined to bait a bull for the
gratification of a great number of per-
sons, whose tastes are as savage as their
amusements are cruel, and, according-
ly, the poor beast was tied to a stake at
the edge of the river, near the bridge.
The radius of the cord was about six
yards, and the animal, in making the
circle, was frequently three feet deep
in water. The crowd collected to wit-
ness this sight was great, and the num-
ber of people on and near the bridge
made it difficult to pass; the sides of
the river were also thronged with spec-
tators of every age and sex, and many
were seen near the bull up to their mid-
die in water, jumping with ecstasy at
the sport. At every revolution the ani-
mal made to disengage himself from
the dogs, people were seen tumbling
over each other in the mud and water
up to the knees, and the shouts of joy
occasionally expressed, could only have
been equalled by the yell of savages.
This sport continued for about three
hours, when a considerable portion of
the parapet wall leading to the bridge
gave way, from the extreme pressure
of the crowd, and five persons were
killed on the spot. Four other persons
died shortly afterwards of the wounds
they received, making nine in the whole
who lost their lives, besides a considera-
ble number who were severely wounded.
The stones being large they fell with
overwhelming weight; and from the
pressure of the crowd near the wall,
numbers of the spectators were preci-
pitated along with the stones on the peo-
ple below One woman had her thighs
broken, and a young man had his arm
completely out from his body, besides
others who were severely bruised.
117. CRUELTY AND BENEVOLENCE COMBINED.
a) TRA.IAN’S INCONSISTEN-
CIES.— Who has not heard of the
Emperor Trajan, of his moderation, his
clemency, his gushing sympathies, his
forgiveness of injuries and forgetfulness
of self, his tearing in pieces his own
robe, to furnish bandages for the wound-
ed—called by the whole world, in his
day, “the best Emperor of Rome;”
and so aflectionately regarded by his
239
I17
CRUELTY AND BENEVDLENCE COMBINED.

subjects, that, ever afterwards, in bless-
ing his successors upon their accession
to power, they always said, “ May you
have the virtue and goodness of Tra-
jan !” yet the deadly conflicts of gladia-
tors who were trained to kill each other,
to make sport for the spectators, fur-
nished his chief pastime. At one time
he kept up those spectacles for 123 days
in succession. In the tortures which he
inflicted on Christians, fire and poison,
daggers and dungeons, wild beasts and
serpents, and the rack, did their worst.
He threw into the sea, Clemens, the
venerable bishop of Rome, with an an-
chor about his neck ; and tossed to the
famishing lions in the amphitheatre the
aged Ignatius.
(Z2) CHARACTER OF THEODO-
SlUS.—-Theodosius the Great was a
member of the Christian church, and in
his zeal against paganism, and what
he deemed heresy, surpassed all who
were before him. The Christian
writers of his time speak of him as a
most illustrious model of justice, gener-
osity, benevolence, and every virtue.
And yet Theodosius denounced capital
punishments against those who held
‘ heretical’ opinions, and commanded in-
termarriage between cousins to be pun-
ished by burning the parties alive.
On hearing that the people of Antioch
had demolished the statues set up in
that city, in honor of himself, and had
threatened the governor, he flew into a
transport of fury, ordered the city to be
laid in ashes, and all the inhabitants to
be slaughtered ; and upon hearing of a
resistance to his authority in Thessa-
lonica, in which one of his lieutenants
was killed, he instantly ordered a gen-
eral massacre of the inhabitants; and
in obedience to his command. seven
thousand men, women and children,
were butchered in the space of three
hours.
(0) DOUBLE CHARACTER OF
PLINY»--Pliny the younger, who was
proconsul under Trajan, may well be
mentioned in connection with the em-
peror, as a striking illustration of the
truth, that goodness and amiableness
towards one class of men is often turned
into cruelty towards another. History
an hardly show a more gentle and

w
lovely character than Pliny. While
pleading at the bar, he always sought
out the grievances of the poorest and
most despised persons, entered into their
wrongs with his whole soul, and never
took a fee. VVho can read his admira-
ble letters without being touched by
their tenderness and warmed by their
benignity and philanthropy’.2 And yet,
this tender-hearted Pliny coolly plied
with excruciating torture two spotless fe-
males, who had served as deaconesses
in the Christian church, hoping to ex
tort from them matter of accusation
against the Christians. He commanded
Christians to abjure their faith, invoke
the gods, pour out libations to the statues
of the emperor, burn incense to idols,
and curse Christ. If they refused, he
ordered them to execution.
((1) CHARACTER OF ADRIAN.
——-The kindness, condescension, and for-
bearance of Adrian were proverbial;
he was one of the most eloquent orators
of his age; and when pleading the
cause of injured innocence, would melt
and overwhelm the auditors by the pa-
thos of his appeals. It was his constant
maxim, that he was an emperor, not
for his own good, but for the benefit of
his fellow creatures. He stooped to re-
lieve the wants of the meanest of his
subjects, and would peril his life by
visiting them when sick of infectious
diseases; he prohibited, by law, mas-
ters from killing their slaves, gave to
slaves legal trial, and exempted them
from torture; yet towards certain in-
dividuals and classes, he showed him-
self a monster of cruelty. He prided
himself on his knowledge of architec-
ture, and ordered to execution the most
celebrated architect of Rome, because
he had criticised one of the emperor’s
designs. He banished all the Jews
from their native land, and drove them
to the ends of the earth; and unloosed
the bloodhounds of persecution to rend
in pieces his Christian subjects.
(0) TITUS IN ROME—TITUS IN
JUDEA.--VVho has not heard of the
Emperor Titus—so beloved for his mild
virtues and compassionate regard for the
suffering, that he was named “ The De-
light of Mankind ;” so tender of the
lives of his subjects that he took the
240
READINESS FOR DEATH.
--_l
ll8
rfiice of high priest that his hands
might never be dcfiled with blood; and
was heard to declare, with tears, that
he had rather die than put another to
death. So intent upon making others
happy, that when once about to retire
to sleep, and not being able to recall
any particular act of beneficence per-
formed during the day, he cried out in
anguish, “Alas! I have lost a day!”
And, finally, whom the learned K€I1I1E‘L,
in his Roman Antiquities, characterizes
as “the only prince in the world that
has the character of never doing an ill
action.” Yet, witnessing the mortal
combats of the captives taken in war,
killing each other in the amphitheatre,
amidst the acclamations of the populace,
was a favorite amusement with Titus.
At one time he exhibited shows of
gladiators, which lasted one hundred
days, during which the amphitheatre

was flooded with human blood. At
another of his public exhibitions he
caused five thousand wild beasts to be
baited in the amphitheatre. During the
siege of Jerusalem, he set ambushes to
seize the famishing Jews, who stole ou.
of the city by night to glean food inthe
valleys: these he would first dreadfully
scourge, then torment them with all
conceivable tortures, and, at last, cru-
cify them before the Wall of the city.
According to Josephus, not less than
five hundred a day were thus tormented.
And when many of the Jews, frantic
with famine, deserted to the Romans,
Titus cut off their hands and drove hem
back. After the destrus *ion of Jerusa-
lem, he dragged to Rome one hundred
thousand captives, and sold them as
slaves, and scattered them through every
province of the empire.
DEATH.
‘.18. Readiness for Death.
ta) THE MINER B '1 RIED ALIVE.
--Charles Greenhough, a native of a
populous hamlet in the West Riding of
Yorkshire, a humble and pious man, was
engaged in the perilous occupation of a
miner. One morning, having engaged
in family worship, he proceeded to his
work and labor, which was to get the
iron-stone in one of those pits, which,
from their shape, are termed “ bell
pits.” The pit in question was just
being finished, and Charles, with four
others, were engaged in it, when a tre-
mendous fall of earth threatened them.
They simultaneously rushed to the op-
posite side, which they had scarcely
reached, when they were all partially
buried. The four companions of poor
Charles extricated themselves and each
other, and proceeded to use every eflbrt
to procure his release, at the peril of
their own lives, for a still more dreadful
falling in of the side of the pit now
threatened them. It was at this awful
moment of peril that his Christian calm-
ness and disinterestedness were exhibit-
ed. After expressing his conviction
that he could not be extricated, he

directed them to place a stone to de-
fend his head, which yet remained un-
buried, and then said, “ Escape for your
lives! ’tis well I am taken instead of
you ; for I am ready and you are not!”
His few remaining minutes were spent
in earnest prayer for his family, and in
solemnly commending his departing
spirit to the Lord Jesus.
then fell, and buried him alive!
(Z2) MR. VVESLEY AND THE
GERMANS.--In the early part of the
career of the Rev. John \/Vesley, influ-
enced by a desire to do good, he under-
took a voyage to Georgia. During a
storm on the voyage he was very much
alarmed by the fear of death, and being
a severe judge of himself, he concluded
that he was unfit to die. He observed
the lively faith of the Germans, which
in the midst of danger, kept their minds
in a state of tranquillity and ease, to
which he and the English on board were
strangers. VVhile they were singing at
the commencement of their service, the
sea broke over them, split the mainsail
in pieces, covered the ship, and poured
in between the decks as if the great deep
had already swallowed them up. The
English screamed terribly: the Ger
The earth I
16
241
118
DEATH.
mans calmly sung on. Mr. Wesley
asked one of them afterwards, if he
were not afraid. He answered, “I
thank God, no.” “But were not your
women and children afraid '2‘ He re-
plied mildly, “No: our women and
children are not afraid to die.”
(0) SENTIMENT OF AN AGED
CHIEF.—A distinguished Oneida chief,
named Skenandoah, having yielded to the
instructions of the Rev. Mr. Kirkland,
and lived a reformed man for fifty years,
said, just before he died, in his hundred
and twentieth year, “I am an aged
hemlock; the winds of one hundred
years have whistled through my branch-
es ;'I am dead at the top; (he was
blind ;) why I yet live, the great good
Spirit only knows. Pray to my Jesus,
that I may wait with patience my ap-
pointed time to die ; and when I die,
lay me by the side of my minister and
father, that I may go up with him at
the great resurrection.”
(cl) FEARS OF DEATH VAN-
QUISHED.——A person who lived in
the house of a pious friend, often com-
municated to him his distressing ap-
prehensions. He was not so much
disturbed with doubts respecting his in-
terest in Christ, as terrified with the
thoughts of dying, and said he thought
he should need three or four persons to
hold him, if he apprehended death was
at hand. His friend proposed Scrip-
tural antidotes to this unreasonable
dread; and encouraged him to expect
that, as his day, so should his strength be.
After a long illness, the time of his de-
parture approached; and he often ex-
pressed a wish that his friend could al-
ways be with him. Finding himself
dymg, he repeatedly sent for his friend
to pray with him. He felt uneasy, and
said, “ Satan whispers that I have been
a deceiver, and shall die a hypocrite.”
He asked his friend to pray again with
him, after which he cried, “ The Lord
is come! Praise God, praise God I”
He then lifted up both his hands, which,
from weakness, he could scarcely raise
before, and several times repeated,
“ Victory, victory, victory, through the
blood of the Lamb l” and expired with
the unfinished word 01 his lips.
(e) SEVERAL EXAMPLES.-—
John Dodd-—“I am not afraid to look
death in the face. lean say——Death,
where is thy sting’.Z Death canno hurt
me.”
Robert Bolton—“ O! when will this
good hour come ’.l When shall I be dis-
solved’? I/Vhen shall I be with Christ '2”
Halyburton—-“ Here is a demonstra-
tion of the reality of religion, that I, a
poor, weak, timorous man, as much
afraid of death as any, am now enabled
by the power of grace, composedly and
with joy, to look death in the face.”
Edward Deering—“ As for my death,
I bless God I feel and find so much in-
ward joy and comfort to my soul, that
if I were put to my choice whether I
would die or live,I would a thousand
times rather choose death than life, if
it may stand with the holy will of God.”
John Owen—“ Oh! brother Payne,
the long-looked for day is come at last,
in which I shall see that glory in ano-
ther manner than I have ever yet done,
or been capable of doing.”
Risden DarracotI—-“ Well, I am go-
ing from weeping friends to congratulate
angels and rejoicing saints in heaven
and glory. Blessed be God, all is well.”
) THE PIOUS BOATSWAIN
IN THE STORM.—-On board an
East-Indiaman was a pious boatswain,
whom, on this account, the crew looked
upon as a strange man. The ship was
overtaken with a storm so dreadful, tha
after every effort to preserve life, the
captain said, ‘ All that could be done
had been done—-it was impossible th
vessel could weather it.’ The shi
seemed sinking—the captain withdrew
into the cabin——the men were some or
their knees, and others with horror hang
ing on parts of the rigging. All ex-
pected the vessel would founder. The
boatswain had been very active, and
apparently unalarmed, during the whole
of the gale. At this moment, when a
heavy wave struck the ship, and seem-
ed as if it would instantly sink her,
looking up with a smile he exclaimed,
‘ Blessed be God, all is right!’ and h
began to sing. The storm afterward
abated, and the vessel Was saved. Thus,
amidst the storm of life, on the dark
ocean of death, and amidst the terrors
242
HAPPY DEATHS
OF CHRISTIANS. I18, 119

of the judgment day the Christian may
still smile and exulting exclaim, ‘ Bless-
ed be God, all is right !’
(g) CECIL’S DYING MOTHER.
--My first convictions on the subject
of 1eligion, says the Rev. R. Cecil,
were confirmed by observing, that real-
ly religious persons had some solid
happiness among them, which I felt the
vanities of the world could not give. I
shall never forget standing by the bed-
side of my sick mother. “ Are not you
afraid to die ?” I asked. “No.”
“ No! \Vhy does the uncertainty of
another state give you no concern?”
“Because God has said, ‘Fear not;
when thou passest through the waters, I
will be with thee ; and through the
rivers, they shall not overflow thee.’--
‘Let me die the death of the right-
eousY”
(h) BEAUTIFUL REPLY.—A
pious Scotch minister being asked by a
friend during his last illness, whether
he thought himself dying? answered,
“Really, friend, I care not whether
I am or not; for, ifl die I shall be
with God; if I live, He will be with
me.”
(2') GEORGE III, AND HIS
SEPULCHRE.——At the time his ma-
jesty, desiring that himself and family
should repose in the same sepulchre,
and in one less public than that of
Westminster, had ordered the tomb-
house at VVindsor to be constructed,
Mr. Wyatt, his architect, waited upon
him with a detailed report and plan of
the design, and of the manner in which
he proposed to arrange it for the recep-
tion of the remains of royalty. The
king went minutely through the whole ;
and when finished, Mr. Wyatt, in thank-
ing his majesty, said apologetically, he
had ventured to occupy so much of his
majesty’s time and attention with these
details, in order that it might not be ne-
cessary to bring so painful a subject
again under his notice. To this the
king replied, “Mr. II/yatt, I request
that you will bring the subject before
me whenever you please. I shall at-
tend with as much pleasure to the build-
ing of a tomb to receive me when I am
dead, as I would to the decorations of a
drawing-room to hold me while living:

for, Mr. Wyatt, if it please God that I
should live to be ninety or a hundred, I
am willing to stay : but if it pleases God
to take me this night, I am ready to go !”
REMARK OF DR. WATTS.
——“I bless God,” said Dr. Watts, I
can lie down with comfort to-night, not
being anxious whether I awake in this
world or another.”
119. Happy Deaths of Christians.
(a) POLYCARP’S DEATH.—
When Polycarp, an ancient bishop of
the church at Smyrna, was brought to
the tribunal, the proconsul asked him if
he was Polycarp ; to which he assented.
The proconsul then began to xhort
him, saying, “Have pity on thine own
great age; swear by the fortune of
Cesar; repent: say, take away the
atheists,” meaning the Christians. Po-
lycarp, casting his eyes solemnly over
the multitude, waving his hand to them,
and looking up to heaven, said, “ Take
away these atheists ;” meaning the idol-
aters around him. The proconsul still
urging him, and saying, “ Swear, and
I will release thee; reproach Christ,”
Polycarp said, “ Eighty and six years
have I served him, and he hath never
wronged me ; and how can I blaspheme
my King who hath saved me '2” “I
have wild beasts,” said the proconsul,
“and will expose you to them unless
you repent.” “Call them,” said the
martyr. “I will tame your spirit by
fire,” said the Roman. “ You threaten
me,” said Polycarp, “ with the fire
which burns only for a moment, but are
yourself ignorant of the fire of eternal
punishment, reserved for the ungodly.”
Soon after. being about to be put to
death, he exclaimed, “ O Father of thy
beloved and blessed Son, Jesus Christ!
O God of all principalities and of all
creation! I bless thee that thou hast
counted me worthy of this day, and this
hour, to receive my portion in the
number of the martyrs, in the cup of
Christ.”
(6) DEATH OF REV. JOHN
VVESLEY.—-The Rev. John Wesley,
after a long life of great labor and use-
fulness, being sixty-five years in the
ministry, concluded his or‘ use rs might
24%
119
DEATH.
have been expected, in peace and holy
jov. Having been laid on the bed,
from whence he rose no more, he called
to those who were with him, to “ pray
and praise.” Soon after he again called
upon them to “ pray and praise!” and
taking each by the hand, and affection-
ately saluting them, bade them farewell.
Attempting afterwards to say something
which they could not understand, he
paused a little, and then, with all the
remaining strength he had, said, “ The
best of all is, God is with us.” And
again, lifting his hand, he repeated the
same words in a holy triumph, “The
best of all is, God is with us.’ ’
(0) DEATH-BED OF REV. IV.
DAY.—“The Bible,” said the dying
saint, “is nothing to me, the Bible is
nothing to me, but as it reveals to my
soul a covenant Jehovah, Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost. There I see perfection.
‘Nhen I look at man—when Ilook at
myself, I see nothing but vileness:—a
rent here, a chasm there. It would
drive me to despair. Oh when,” he
wept profusely, “ when shall I behold
Christ as he is, and cast myself at his
feet! He has offered me a pledge of
this beyond all your imagination can
conceive. I have seen him rising be-
fore me in all the majesty of the God-
head. The world has shown me its
favors, and has taken them away again.
I have enjoyed many tokens of the
loving-kindness of my God, and I have
at other times been stripped of whatl
most valued. But, O my God, my Re-
deemer, thou hast never failed me I”
Then stretching out his hands to his
family around his bed, he cried, “O
Lord, shine forth, shine forth in thy
glory upon these dear ones—Thou wilt
never leave them——Thou wilt never for-
sake them.”-—It was an affecting, a
sublime scene. It was like a patriarch
standing on the threshold of heaven,
looking back to bless his family, and
looking forward, earnestly longing to
take his last step.
(cl) “I AM THE LORD THY
GOD.”—A friend calling on the Rev.
Ebenezer Erskine, during his last ill-
ness, said to him, “Sir, you have given
us many good advices, pray what are
you now doing with you own soul?”

r _ ----n--
‘‘I am doing with it, ” said he, “ Whtttl
did forty years ago; I am restin on
that word, I am the Lord thy God ; and
on this I mean to die.” To another, he
said, “ The covenant is my charter, and
if it had not been for that blessed word,
I am the Lord thy God, my hope and
strength had perished from the Lord.”
The night on which- he died, his eldest
daughter was reading in the room
where he Was, to whom he said, “ What
book is that you are reading, my dear '2”
“It is one of your sermons, sir.”
“ IV hat one is it '2” “It is the sermon
on that text, ‘I am the Lord thy God.’ ”
“O woman,” said he, “that is the best
sermon I ever preached.” And it was
most probably the best to his soul. A
little afterwards, with his finger and
thumb he shut his own eyes, and lay-
ing his hand below his cheek, breathed
out his soul into the hands of his living
Redeemer. Happy the man that is in
such a state I happy the man whose
God is the Lord I
(e) “I SHALL SUP WITH
CI-IRIST.”——Mr. Robert Bruce, the
morning before he died, being at break-
fast, having, as he used, eaten an egg,
he said to his daughter, “ I think I am
yet hungry ; you may bring me another
egg.” But having mused a while, he
said, “Hold, daughter, hold, my master
calls me.” With these words his sight
failed him: on which he called for the
Bible, and said, “Turn to the 8th chap-
ter of the Romans, and set my finger
on the words, ‘I am persuaded that
neither death nor life, &c., shall be able
to separate me from the love of Goc
which is in Christ Jesus my Lord.’ ’
When this was done he said, “Now is
my fmger upon them ?’ ’ Being told that it
was, he added, “Now, God be with you,
my dear children : I have lnealgfasteci with
you, and shall sup with my Lord Jesus
Christ this night ;” and then expired.
(f) DEATH OF HERVEY.-—
Dr. Stonehouse, who attended Mr. Her-
vey during his last illness, seeing the
great difficulty and pain with which he
spoke, and finding by his pulse that the
pangs of death were then coming on,
desired that he would spare himself.
“No,” said he, “doctor, no: you tell
me I have but a few minutes to live;
244
HAPPY DEATHS OF CHRISTIANS.
119
r r----— —p --—-—-——_
Oh! let me spend them in adoring our
great, Redeemer. Though my flesh
and my heart fail me, yet God is the
strength of my heart and my portion for
ever.” He then expatiated, in the most
striking manner, on these words of Paul,
“ All things are yours, life and death ;
things present, and things to come; all
are yours; and ye are Christ’s, and
Christ is God’s.” “Here,” said he,
“is the treasure of a Christian, and a
noble treasure it is. Death is reckoned
in this inventory : how thankful am I
for it, as it is the passage through which
I get to the Lord and Giver of eternal
life! and as it frees me from all the
misery you see me now endure, and
which I am willing to endure as long
as God thinks fit; for I know he will
by and by, in his good time, dismiss me
from the body. These light afflictions
are but for a moment, and then comes
an eternal weight of glory. Oh, wel-
come, welcome deathl thou mayest
well be reckoned among the treasures
of the Christian! To live is Christ, but
to die is gain.”
(g) DEATH OF DR. GOODVVIN.
—-“ Ah!” said Dr. Goodwin, in his last
moments, “ is this dying’.Z How have
I dreaded as an enemy this smiling
friend I” '
(h) DEATH OF REV. VVILLIAM
J AN EWAY.-—This ood man, who
was the father of the Rev. John J ane-
way, being brought to his death-bed,
endured great conflict of mind, and en-
tertained many fears as to his future
happiness. Under those circumstances,
he asked the prayers of his son, who,
though he entertained no doubt as to the
real piety of his father, was filled with
Christian sympathy ; and having retired,
he spent some time in wrestling with
God upon his father’s account, earnest-
ly praying that he would fill him with
joy unspeakable in believing, and that
he would speedily give him some toke11
for good, that he might joyfully and
honorably leave this world to go to a
better. After he was risen from his
knees, he went down to his sick father,
and asked him how he felt himself.
His father made no answer for some
time, but wept exceedingly, to which
he was not subject, and continued for


,._~-_ --
some considerable time weeping, so that
he was not able to speak. But ‘3t last,
having recovered himself, witl. un-
speakable joy he burst out into such
expressions as these :-—-“ O son, now it
is come, it is come, it is come ! I i.te:*-J
God I can die ; the Spirit of God hath
witnessed with my spirit that I am his
child. Now I can look upon God as
my dear Father, and Christ as my Re-
deemer. I can now say, This is my
Friend, and this is my Beloved. My
heart is ful1 it is brimful; Ican hold
no more. I Know now w rat that sen-
tence means,——The peace of God which
passeth understanding. That fit of
weeping which you saw me in, was a
fit of overpowering love and joy, sc
great that I could not contain myself;
neither can I express what glorious dis-
coveries God has made of himself unto
me. And had that joy been g"eater, I
question whether I could have borne it,
and whether it would not have separated
soul and body. Bless the Lord, O my
soul, and all that is within me bless his
holy name, who hath pardoned all my
sins, and sealed the pardon! He hath
healed my wounds, and caused the
bones which he had broken to rejoice.
Oh, now I can die! It is nothing: I
bless God I can die. I desire to be dis-
solved, and to be with Christ.” In this
delightful frame of soul he shortly after
left earth for heaven.
(2') HAPPY DEATH OF REV.
S. MORELL.——This excellent young
minister, when just entering on his im-
portant station at Norwich, was called,
in the twenty-fourth year of his age, to
exchange worlds. On the last day of
his life, he remarked, that he should
once more wish to commit his soul to
God, and then added, “I should like to
understand the secrets of eternity before
to-morrow morning.” His desire was
granted. In his last moments he in-
dulged in language like this: “None
can know, none conceive the happiness
I possess, the peace with which my soul
is filled, but the sincere disciple of our
Lord Jesus Christ. Redeemer of man-
kind, give me strength to bear even
joy—-this joy Y”
HAPPY SURPRISE OF
DEATH.—-The Rev.Mr. Hall, of Ams-
245
119
DEATH.
by, Mr. Evans, of Foxton, and Mr.
Christian, of Sheepshead, three eminently
pious ministers of the gospel, attended
a ministers’ meeting at Mr. YVoodman’s,
Sutton, in the Elms, Leicestershire.
The day was solemn, and the discourses
delivered were very interesting and
appropriate. In the evening, these
ministers spent their time together in the
most agreeable conversation. Amongst
other subjects, one of them proposed for
discussion, that passage in Job ix. 23,
“If the scourge slay suddenly, he will
laugh at the trial of the innocent.”
Deep seriousness pervaded the conversa-
tion, while each minister gave his
thoughts on the text. When it came
to Mr. Christian’s turn to speak, he
dwelt upon the subject with an unusual
degree of feeling. He considered it as
referring to the sudden death of the
righteous; and was expatiating very
largely on the desirableness of such an
event, and the happy surprise with
which it would be attended, when,
amidst a flood of rapturous tears, he
took his flight from the world while the
words were yet faltering on his tongue I
(I5) WELCOMING DEATH.——Mrs.
Legare, an excellent Woman, resided
at Charleston, S. C. When she had
nearly closed her eyes in death, her
physician came and found the family in
tears. “ I/Vell, doctor,” said Mr. Le-
gare, “ what do you think of the scene
in the next room '2” “ Indeed, sir,” said
he, “I know not what to think of it; it
is all a mystery to me. I have seen
numbers of men in all the vigor of
health, and thirsting for martial honor,
rush into a field of battle, and in that
confused scene put on the appearance
of fortitude, not one of whom could face
the gradual approaches of death, or a
sick bed, without visible horror; but
here is a poor emaciated woman, whose
whole nervous system is unstrung by
long disease, welcoming the grim mes-
senger with the utmost serenity, com-
posure, and joy, though approaching in
all the horrors of the most gradual pro-
gress imaginable;” (for she was three
days in the agonies of death.) “ Indeed
it is a mystery, and I know not how to
account for it.” “Do you not, sir '2”
asked Mr Legare; “go, then, to Cal-

———-w
vary. You see us dissolved in tears
but I do not believe there is a tear in
the room extorted by grief; no, sir,
they are tears of joy.” The docto
went down stairs, and met a gentleman
at the door, who inquired after Mrs. L.,
to whom he replied, “Just gone, sir.”
“Well,” said he, “Mr. Legare is a
philosopher, and I hope he will bear the
stroke like one.” “Philosophyl" re-
plied the doctor, “I have thought IS
much of philosophy as any man, but
the scene within beats philosophy hol-
low.”
(Z) DEATH OF MRS. HERVEY.
—Mrs. Elizabeth Hervey, the wife of a
Missio‘nary in Bombay, died an early
but happy death. “ I did hope,” said she,
“that I should be permitted to do some-
thing towards elevating the degraded
and miserable females of India; but
since God decides otherwise, His will
be done! In this great conflict, some
must fall as soon as they enter the field.
Tell my friends that I never have for a
moment regretted that I came hither.
No! had I foreseen this hour, and all
that I have endured since I left America,
I should have decided just as I did, if
the path of duty had been as plain as it
appeared to be.”
A friend said to her, he hoped the
Saviour would be with her, as she
walked through the dark valley of the
shadow of death. “ If this,” said she,
“ is the dark valley, it has not a dark
spot in it; all is light—light!” She
had, during most of her sickness, bright
views of the perfections of God. “His
awful holiness,” she said, “appeared
the most lovely of all His attributes.”
At one time, she said she wanted words
to express her views of the majesty and
glory of Christ. “ It seems,” said she,
“ that if all other glory were annihilated,
and nothing left but His bare self, it
would be enough; it would be a uni-
verse of lory I”
(m) VARA’S HAPPY DEATH.-—
Mr. Williams relates, in his “Mission-
ary Enterprises,” that a delightful in-
stance of the power of the gospel is to
be met with in the history of a chief
named Vara, a native of the island of
Aimeo. In the time of his ignorance
he was a procurer of human sacrifices;
246
HAPPY DEATHS
OF CHRISTIANS. 1 19

;--_'-—
but he became eventually a humble
and devoted Christian, and to the day of
his death he adorned his profession.
He was visited many times in his dying
moments by Mr. Orsmond, whose ac-
count of his death I will here subjoin.
On seeing his end approach, I said to
him, “ Are you sorry that you cast away
your lying gods, by which you used to
gain so much property '2” He was arous-
ed from his lethargy, and with tears of
pleasure sparkling in his eyes, he ex-
claimed, “ O no, no I What I can I be sor-
ry for casting away death for life? Je-
sus is my rock, the fortification in which
my soul takes shelter.” I said, “Tell
me on what you found your hopes of fu-
ture blessedness '2” He replied, “ I have
been very wicked; but a great King
from the other side of the skies sent his
ambassadors with terms of peace. We
could not tell,_for many years, what
these ambassadors wanted. At length,
Pomare obtained a victory, and invited
all his subjects to come and take refuge
under the wing of Jesus, and I was one
of the first to do so. The blood of Jesus
is my foundation. Igrieve that all my
children do not love him. Had they
known the misery we endured in the
reign of the devil, they would gladly
take the gospel in exchange for their fol-
lies. Jesus is the best King; he gives
a pillow without thorns.” After a lit-
tle time Iasked him if he were afraid
to die ; when, with almost youthful en-
ergy, he replied, “ No, no I The canoe
is on the sea, the sails are spread; she
is ready for the gale. I have a good
Pilot to guide me, an a good haven to
receive me. My outside man and my
inside man differ. Let the one rot till
the trump shall sound, but let my soul
wing her way to the throne of Jesus I ”
(n) NOT KNOWING DAY FROM
NIGHT.—-My letter was interrupted,
writes the Rev. R. Watson, by being
called to visit an old follower of Jesus
Christ. I have been much profited by
the interview. I have not been to in-
struct, but to be instructed. One of his
expressions was: “ Days, weeks, and
months have rolled round during my
affliction, and I have scarcely known the
night from the day, nor the day from the
night, so rapidly and joyfully have the

hours escaped me; I have felt nothing
but joy and love ; not for a moment have
I been impatient or weary, or wished it
otherwise with me, so marvellously has
God wrought in me. This is the hand
of God. This never grew in nature’s
soil.”
(0) DEATH OF MR. VENN.——
The Rev. T. T. Thomason, who was
afterwards a devoted minister of Christ
in the East Indies, while at college, paid
a visit, in company with two of his
young friends, to the excellent Mr.
Venn, then languishing in body, but re-
joicing in soul, as a strong man to run
a race. One of his expressions sunk
deep into the mind of Thomason; it
was this: “In what a state should I now
be, had I only the Socinian’s Gtxi to trust
to! ” This extraordinary man did not
die like common Christians. The Rev.
T. Robinson, of Leicester, visited him
in his last illness, and began to speak
to him, to use Mr. Robinson’s words,
“ in my poor way.” “ Oh I ” exclaim-
ed Mr. Venn, “ that is poor comfort, bro-
ther. Here is the passage I build on:
‘ who hath spoiled principalities and
powers, and hath made a show of them
openly, triumphing over them in it.’ ”
These words he uttered with an energy
and animation peculiar to himself. His
mind was filled with the contemplation
of a triumph, and he anticipated no-
thing less than soon meeting a victorious
Savior, who shall tread all enemies un-
der his feet.
(p) THE DYING COAL-MINER.-
Stephen Karkeet, twenty-five years old,
whilst employed under ground in a
mine, in the parish of N ewlyn, was
buried alive, by the falling together of
the shaft in which he was, at the depth
of five fathoms from the surface. The
first person who arrived at the spot was
a man named George Trcvarrow, who
called to know if any living being was
beneath, when Karkeet answered, in a
firm voice, “I feel the cold hand of
death upon me ; if there is any hope of
my being rescued from this untimeltr
grave, tell me; and if not. tell me.‘
Trevarrow at once informed him that
there was not a shadow of hope left,
as upwards of four tons of rubbish had
fallen round and upon him, and ha
247
119
DEATH.
suffocation must inevitably take place
before human aid could afford relief.
On hearing which, Karkeet exclaimed,
“ All’s well ; it is the Lord ! let him do
what seemeth him good. Tell my dear
father and mother not to be sorry as
those without‘ hope for me ; ’tis now
only that I am happy——’tis now that I
feel the advantages of a religious life ;
now I feel the Lord is my stronghold ;
and now I feel I am going to heaven.”
Here his voice failed him; he never
spake again.
(q) THIS IS HEAVEN BEGUN.
—-T he Rev. Thomas Scott, during his
last illness, having received the sacra-
ment, at the conclusion of the service, he
adopted the language of Simeon, “ Lord,
now lettest thou thy servant depart in
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy
salvation.” Through the remainder of
the day, and during the night, he con-
tinued in a very happy state of mind.
To one who came in the evening, he
said, “ It was beneficial to me : I received
Christ last night: I bless God for it.”
He then repeated, in the most emphatic
manner, the whole twelfth chapter of
Isaiah. The next morning he said,
“This is heaven begun. Ihave done
with darkness for eoer——for ever. Sa-
tan is vanquished. Nothing now re-
mains but salvation with eternal glory
-—eternal glory.”
(r) DEATH OF MR. .IENKS.—-
As one said to Philip J. Jenks just
before he expired, “How hard it is to
die,” he replied, “O no, no—-easy dying,
blessed dying, glorious dying.” Look-
ing up at the clock, he said, “I have
experienced more happiness in dying
two hours this day, than in my whole
life. It is worth a whole life to have
such an end as this. I have long de-
sired that I might glorify God in my
death, but O ! I never thought that such
a poor worm as I could come to such a
glorious death.”
(s) MR. HOLLAND’S DEATH.-—
Mr. John Holland, the day before he
died, called for the Bible, saying, “Come,
O come ; death approaches, let us gather
some flowers to comfort this hour;
and turning with his own hand to the
8th chapter of Romans, he gave the
cook to Mr. Leigh, and bade him read: ,
--____.p
at the end of every verse, he paused,
and then gave the sense, to his own
comfort, but more to the joy and wonder
of his friends. Having continued his
meditations on the 8th of the Romans,
thus read to him, for two hours or
more, on a sudden he ‘said, “O stay
your reading. What brightness is this
I see? Have you lighted up any can-
dles '2” Mr. Leigh answered, “No, it
is the sunshine ;” for it was about five
o’clock in a clear summer evening.
“Sunshine!” said he, “nay, it is my
Saviour’s shine. Now, farewell world ;
welcome heaven. The day-star from
on high hath visitee ray h; art. O
speak it when I am gone, and preach it
at my funeral ; God dealeth familiarly
with man. I feel his mercy; I see his
majesty ; whether in the body or out of
the body, I cannot tell, God knoweth ;
but I see things that are unutterable.”
Thus ravished in spirit, he roamed to-
wards heaven with a cheerful look, and
soft sweet voice; but what he said
could not be understood.
(t) DYING WORDS OF HOOKER.
——“I have lived,” says Hooker, “to
see that this 'world is made up of
perturbations; and I have long been
preparing to leave it, and gathering
comfort for the dreadful hour of making
my account with God, which I now ap-
prehend to be near. And though I
have by his grace loved him in my
youth, and feared him in my age, and
labored to have a conscience void of
offence towards him, and towards all
men ; yet, if thou, Lord, shouldst be ex-
treme to mark what I have done amiss,
who can abide it '2” And therefore,
where I have failed, Lord, show mercy
to me, for I plead not my righteousness,
but the forgiveness of my unrighteous-
ness, through his merits who died to
purchase pardon for pcnitent sinners.
And since I owe thee a death, Lord, let
it not be terrible, and then take thine
own time, I submit to it. Let not
mine, O Lord, but thy will be done!
God hath heard my daily petitions ; for
I am at peace with all men ; and He is
at peace with me. From such blessed
assuranee,I feel that inward joy which
this world can neither give nor take
from me. My conscience beareth me
248
UNREADINESS FOR DEATH.

119, 120

this witness, and this witness makes the
thought of death joyful. I could wish
to live to do the Church more service,
but cannot hope for it ; for my days are
past, as a shadow that runs not.” This
worthy biographer adds: “ More he
would have spoken, but his spirits failed
him, and after a sharp conflict between
nature and death, a quiet sigh put a
period to his last breath, and so he fell
asleep.” I
(u) DYING WORDS OF DR. PAY-
SON.—Dr. Payson, upon dying, said,
“ My God is in this room, I see him,
and oh! how lovely is the sight, how
glorious does he appear; worthy of
ten thousand hearts if I had so many
to give.” At another time, when his
body was racked by inconceivable suf-
fering, and his cheeks pale and sunken
with disease, he exclaimed, like a warrior
returning from the field of triumph, “ The
battle’s fought ! the battle’s fought! and
the victory is won.’ the victory is won
for ever! lam going to bathe in an
ocean of purity, and benevolence, and
happiness, to all eternity!” At an-
other time he exclaimed, “The celes-
tial city is full in view—-its glories
beam upon me-—its breezes fan me-—
its odors are wafted to me; its music
strikes upon my ear, and its spirit
breathes into my heart; nothing sepa-
rates me from it, but the river of death,
which now appears as a narrow rill,
which may be crossed at a single step,
whenever God shall give permission.
“ The sun of righteousness has been
gradually drawing nearer and nearer,
appearing larger and larger as he ap-
proached, and now he fills the whole
hemisphere, pouring forth a flood of
glory, in which I seem to float like an
insect in the beams of the sun; exult-
ing, yet almost trembling, while I gaze
on this excessive brightness, and won-
dering with unutterable wonder, why
God should deign thus to shine upon a
sinful worm.”
1%. Unreadilless for Death.
(ct) THE RABBI’S REASON FOR
WEEPING.—-When Rabbi Jochanan
Ben Zachai was sick, his disciples came
to visit him, and when he saw them, he
negan to weep. They said tt him.

“Rabbi, the light of Israel, the right
hand pillar, wherefore dost thou weep ’.l”
He answered, “ If they were carrying
me before a king of flesh and blood,
who is here today and to-morrow in the
grave, who, if he were angry with me,
his anger would not last for ever ; if he
put me in prison, his prison would not
be everlasting ; if he condemned me to
death, that death would not be eternal ;
whom I could soothe with words, or
bribe With riches ; yet even in such cir-
cumstances I should weep. But now I
am going before the King of kings, the
holy and blessed God, who liveth and
endureth, who, if he be angry with me,
his anger will last for ever; if he
put me in prison, his bondage will
be everlasting; if he condemn me to
death, that death vill be eternal ; whom
I cannot soothe with words, nor bribe
with riches; when, farther, there are
before me two ways, the one to hell and
the other to paradise, and I know not
into which they are carrying me, shall
I not weep fl”
(Z2) DYING CONFESSION OF
BORGIA.——It is said of the celebrated
Cesar Borgia, that in his last moments
he exclaimed, “I have provided, in the
course of my life, for every thing ex-
cept death ; and now, alas! I am to die,
although entirely unprepared.”
(0) I \VON’T DIE NO\V.—The
following affecting account was written,
in 1775, by a Christian minister in
London, to the Rev. Dr. Ryland,
who then resided at Northampton :--A
young lady, who was educated at an
academy at Bedford, but who after-
wards resided in town, became dan-
gerously ill. Her father, a true Chris-
tian, procured for her a lodging in the
neighbourhood, to try the effects of a
change of air. Finding her disorder
prevail, he thought it high time for her
to be concerned about her soul, and
asked her what she thought of eternity.
She replied, “Do not talk to me about
eternity. You want me out of the
way; but I shall live long enough to
enjoy all that you have in the world.”
He left her. Next evening the mistress
of the house where she was, said,
“ Ma’am, I think you look a good deal
worse.” “Worse! Iam much better.
249
l2(
DEATH.
Why do you talk to me about death '2”
“You certainly are worse; do let the
servant sit up with you to-night.”
“No, I am not about to die.” They
went to bed ; at four in the morning she
awoke her servant, who asked, “What
is amiss, ma’am ?” “Amiss! I’m dy-
ing, I’m dying!” The family was
called up; the mistress, coming in to
see her, was thus addressed : “I won’t
die now ; I am determined I won’t die ;
I Wlll live.’ ’ Getting worse and worse,
she said, “I feel I must die,” and in an
agony screamed out, “ Lord! what
must I do '2” Her servant replied,
“You must turn to the Saviour.” She
fell back on the bed, and in a moment
expired.
(d) NOT PREPARED.—A minister
was called on to visit a young lady,
who was ver ill. She was sitting in
her room. Ie asked her how she felt.
“Dying, sir ; I am going,” was the re-
ply. “ Be calm,” said he; “I hope
you will yet recover.” “No,” said
she. “ If you feel yourself to be dying,
how does your spirit feel in the prospect
of another world '2” “Not prepared,”
was the answer. He directed her to
the Lord Jesus Christ, as the Saviour
of sinners; but in a few moments she
looked around her, reclined her head on
his hand, and almost instantly expired.
How awful I not prepared, and yet en-
tering eternity! Reader, seek the
Lord now, that you may be always
ready to die.
(e) PERSECUTOR CONVER-
TED.—-A profane persecutor dis-
covered great terror during a storm
of thunder and lightning which ever-
took him on a journey. His pious wife,
who was with him, inquired the reason
of his terror. He replied by asking,
“ Are not you afraid '2” She answered,
“ No, it is the voice of my Heavenly
Father; and should a child be afraid
of its father?” “ Surely,” thought the
man, “ these Puritans have a divine prin-
ciple in them which the world seeth not,
otherwise they could not have such se-
renity in their souls, when the rest of
the world are filled with dread.” Up-
on this, going to Mr. Bolton, of Brough-
ton, near Kettering, he lamented the
opposition which he had made to his

ministry, and became a godly man ever
after.
VVHO ARE THE COW.
ARDS.—-The captain of a ship says,
“ I am in the habit of reading the Scrip-
tures to the crew. I have suffered
much lately at sea; having been dis-
masted, and nad all my beats washed
away, a little to the westward of Cape
Clear. I then had an opportunity of
seeing who was who; and I found the
most unprincipled men the most useless
and the greatest ‘cowards in this awful
gale, and the Bible men altogether the
reverse, most useful and courageous.”
THE DYING MERCHANT
AND HIS PI-]YSICIAN.—ln 1830, a
wealthy merchant, who had lived in
profanity for many years, heaping up
riches and wrath, was suddenly arrested
by alarming sickness. The doctor
visited him, and found the patient sick
unto death. “ Am I very sick '2” said
the alarmed sufferer. “Shall I never
recover '2” “You are quite sick,” said
the physician, “and should prepare for
the worst.” “ Cannot I live a week '2”
asked the merchant. “No,” said the
doctor, “you will probably continue
but a little while.” “ Say not so,” said
the dying man; “I will give you a
hundred thousand dollars, if you will
prolong my life three days.” “I could
not do it, my dear sir,” said the physi-
cian, “ for three hours I” And the man
died within an hour.
(it) LOUIS XI AND HIS PHY-
SICIAN.—Louis XI of France was
so fearful of death, that, as often as
it came into his physician’s head to
threaten him with death, he put money
into his hands to pacify him. His phy-
sician is said to have got 55,000 crowns
from him in five months.
NO TIME TO DIE.-—Mr. D.,
a gentleman, engaged in an extensive
manufacturing business, in one of the
midland counties of England, was
called to London on business. After
being engaged till a late hour on Sat-
urday night, he said to a confidential
person in his employment, who had
come to town with him, “Well, we
cannot settle our accou/nts tonight, but
must do it early in the morning. On
Sabbath therefc re they were occupied
250
MISERABLE DEATHS OF THE IMPENITENT.
I20, 121

~_-—d-
in that work until 3 o’clock in the af-
ternoon, when dinner was announced,
Mr. D. said, “ Let us eat and drink,
for to-morrow we die. Not,” added
he, “that I have any thought of dying
for years to come.” After taking his
dinner and wine a post chaise was or-
dered, and Mr. D. sat out for the coun-
try. He arrived at home on Monday
night. The next morning, when at
breakfast with his family, a gentleman
called and said, “Mr. D., have you
heard ofthe death of Mr. ?” “ No,”
said he, “is he dead’.2 It is very dif-
ferent with me; for my part,I am so
engaged in business, that I could not
find time to die.” Immediately after
uttering this sentiment, he rose from
the table and went into the kitchen;
and while stooping in the act of draw.
ing on his boot, he fell down on the
floor and expired.
(j) SEVERAL EMINENT PER-
SONS.-—The wretchedness of many
eminent persons, in the prospect of
death, has been very remarkable.
Henry Beaufort, a rich cardinal, in
the days of Henry VI, perceiving that
death was at hand, exclaimed, “ VVhere-
fore should I die, being so rich? If
the whole realm would save my life,
I am able either by policy to get it, or
by wealth to buy it. Will not death
he bribed ‘.1 Will money do nothing?”
Louis XI strictly charged his ser-
vants, that when they saw him ill, they
should never dare to name death in his
hearing.
When Vitellius, a Roman emperor,
and a notorious glutton, who at one sup-
per had before him two thousand fishes
and seven thousand birds, was in pros-
pect of death, he made himself intoxi-
cated, that he might not be sensible of its
pains, or of the mighty change it pro-
duced.

121. Miserable Deaths of the Impenitellt.
(a) THE MONARCH’S LA-
MENT.--Philip III of Spain, whose
life was free from gross evils, professed
that he would rather lose his kingdom
than offend God willingly; but when
he came to the hour of death, consider-

ing most seriously the account he would
have to render to God, he was led to in-
dulge very anxious fears, and he ex-
claimed, “ Oh ! would to God I had
never reigned; oh that those years I
have spent in my kingdom, I had lived
a solitary life in the wilderness! oh that
I had lived a life alone with God!
How much more secure should I now
have died I VVith how much more con-
fidence should I have gone to the throne
of God ! VVhat doth all my glory profit,
but that I have so much the more tor
ment in my death !”
(Z2) REFUSING TO DIE.-A
gentleman in London, when on h-s
death-bed, felt so strong an aversion to
dying, and leaving behind him his
wealth, that he hastily rose from his
bed, went out, and walked in his yard,
exclaiming that he would not die!
But the unhappy man’s strength being
soon exhausted, his atfrighted friends
carried him back to his bed. where he
soon expired. Alas! he was destitute
of faith in Him who has promised eter-
nal life to his disciples.
(c) BEGINNING OF SORROVVS.
-——“ Ah! Mr. Hervey,” said a dying
man, “the day in which I ought to have
worked is over, and now I see a horrible
night approaching, bringing with it the
blackness of darkness for ever. ‘V0 is
me ! when God called, I refused. Now
I am in sore anguish, and yet this is but
the beginning of sorrows. I shall be de-
stroyed with an everlasting destruction.”
(d) \VOLSEY’S REGRETS.-—
Cardmal VVolsey, having fallen under
the displeasure of his monarch, made
the following sad reflection a little be-
fore his death :—“ Had I but served my
God as diligently as I have served my
king, he would not have forsaken me
now in my gray hairs. But this is the
just reward that I must receive for my
indulgent pains and study, not regarding
my service to God, but only to my
prince.”
(e) NO MERCY FOR ME NOVV.
-—A young man, who had led a wicked
life, stifling the voice of conscience,
which often reproved him, was at length
seized with a violent disorder, which
brought him to the grave. Dming his
sickness, he was miserable, as he had
‘251
I21
DEATH.
been careless and irreligious when in
health. A pious neighbor spoke to him
of the mercy of God, of the death of the
Lord Jesus Christ to make atonement
for sin, and of the precious premises
which are made to the penitent ; saying,
“ The gospel affords a balm for every
wound which sin has made in the soul.”
“True,” said the young man, “ but
that gospel, despised through my life,
affords me no balm in my death. There
is no mercy for me now.” Soon after-
wards he expired.
I AM LOST.-—Such was the
dying and agonizing exclamation of a
young man, who a short time before
had 1been expostulated with for neglect-
ing the great and momentous interests
of the soul and eternity. The faithful
man of God who had thus warned him
to prepare to meet his God, thus speaks
of the interview :
“I spent half an hour in reasoning
with him. He treated me with great
respect, acknowledged the necessity of
religion, but suggested a thousand dif-
ficulties. I left him with a painful con-
viction, that amidst all the wonderful
influences of a revival at that time in
progress, he had succeeded in keeping
is conscience asleep.
The meeting closed on Sunday night.
On Monday morning I found the road
alive with horses and vehicles of the
returning multitude. After riding about
four miles, I perceived a throng about
a farm-house before me. I rode ra-
pidly to it, and learned that a young
man had been thrown from his horse
and dangerously injured. On pressing
through the crowd to the chamber where
they had placed the sufferer, I found
the young man whom I had warned so
emphatically the day before. He was
shockingly injured, and as I passed into
the room, a thrill of dismay seemed to
pass over him. A physician soon ar-
rived; he pronounced the case hope-
less; and declared he could not survive
two hours. Never shall I forget the
agonized countenance of the wretched
youth when he learned his fate.
“‘Must Idie '5’ he exclaimed. ‘Is
there no hope’.2 Oh! I cannot die, I
cannot die !’
“I endearired to direct him to the


__ —--—_w
cross, and reminded him of the crucified
thief.
“ ‘ Alas!’ he replied, ‘ he never sinned
against such light as I have abused.
What shall I do’.2 Pray for me, O pray
for me.’
“ VI/’e knelt down about the chamber,
but his agonizing groans struck all with
horror and confusion. I arose and en-
deavored to direct him to the Lamb of
God, who taketh away the sins of the
world.
“‘It is too late,’ he exclaimed, ‘O
what would I not give, if I had heeded
your warning yesterday, but it is now
too late ,' I am lost.’
“ His parents and sisters sou. arrived;
but the scene which followed I will not
and cannot describe. The groans of
the poor sufferer ceased only with his
life. He seemed stunned with the sud-
den and terrible summons, and unable
to command his thoughts suificiently to
ray.”
(g) DEATH OF CARDINAL
MAZARIN.—W hat a terrific picture
does the following passage (from Lard-
ner’s Cyclopaedia, History of F rance,)
exhibit of the death-bed of a man devoted
to the pomp and vanities of the world,
and who is at ease in his possessions !
A fatal malady had seized on Cardi-
nal Mazarin, whilst engaged in the con-
ferences of the treaty, and worn by
mental fatigue. He consulted Guen-
aud the physician, who told him he had
but two months to live. Some days af-
ter, Brienne perceived the Cardinal in
his night-cap and dressing-gown totter-
ing along his gallery, pointing to his pic-
tures, and exelaiming, “Must I quit all
these '2” He saw Brienne, and seized
him : “ Look at that Correggio ! this Ve-
nus of Titian! that incomparable Deluge
of Caracci! Ah! my friend,I must quit
all these. Farewell, dear pictures, that
I love so dearly, and that cost me so
much!” A few days before his death
he caused himself to be dressed, shaved,
rouged and painted. In this state he
was carried in his chair to the prome-
nade, where the envious courtiers paid
him ironical compliments on his appear-
ance. Cards were the amusement of
his death-bed, his hands being held by
others ; and they were only interrupted
252
MISCELLANEO US.
122
--—--'\V
by the papal nuncio, who came to give
the cardinal that plenary indulgence
to which the prelates of the Sacred Col-
lege are ofiicially entitled. Mazarin
expired on .he 9th of March, 1661.
1%. Miscellaneous.
(a) DEATH IN THE PULPIT.-
The following striking fact is taken
from the Edinburgh Advertiser, Dec. 7,
1810. “Died at VVaterford, Nov. 4,
the Rev. B. Dickinson, minister of the
Baptist congregation in that city, while
zealously employed in the discharge of
his functions. Mr. Dickinson had taken
for his text, 2 Cor. V. 10, ‘We must
all appear before the judgment-seat of
Christ 5’ and had advanced but a short
way in its illustration, when he fell
down in the pulpit, and instantly ex-
pired !” What an impressive lesson to
those who preach, and to those who
hear the everlasting gospel ! And how
becoming for every minister to adopt
the lines of Baxter :
“ I preach as if I ne’er should preach again,
And as a dying man, to dying men.”
A REMARKABLE COINCI-
DENCE.-—The Rev. .Iohn Olds, a de-
voted minister in London, toward the‘
close of the seventeenth century, was
suddenly taken ill, immediately after
his afternoon prayer, before commenc-
ing his sermon, and was removed from
the pulpit to glory. And it is remark-
able that, on the next Sabbath but one,
Mr. Kentish, having just roused the at-
tention of his own congregation, by
mentioning in his sermon the sudden
death of Mr. Olds, was himself struck
with death. Thus each
“ H19 body with his charge laid down,
And ceased at once to work and live.’’
(0) CYRUS’ EPITAPH.—Cyrus,
the Emperor of Persia, after he had
long been attended by armies, and vast
trains of courtiers, ordered this inscrip-
tion to be engraven on his tomb, as an
admonition to all men of the approach
of death, and the desolation that follows
it ; namely, “ 0 man ! whatsoever thou
art and whencesoever thou comest, I
know that thou Wilt come to the same

condition in which I now am. I am
Cyrus, who brought the empire to the
Persians; do not envy me, I beseech
thee, this little piece of ground which
coveneth my body.”
((1) DEATH PREFERABLE TO
SIN .-—A man that was addicted to a
very wicked course of life, going one
Sabbath morning to buy a game-cock
for fighting, was met by a good man on
his way to a meeting, who asked him
where he was going. He related the
whole to him, and after much entreaty,
was prevailed on to go with him to the
meeting, where it pleased God to con~
vince him of his misery. Ln the Men
day morning he went to his work,
where he was beset by the rest of the
colliers, who swore at him, told him he
was going mad, and upbraided him,
by saying, that before a month was at
an end, he would swear as bad as ever.
On hearing this, he kneeled down before
them all, and earnestly prayed that
God would sooner take him out of the
world, than suffer him to blaspheme his
holy name; on which he immediately
expired.
(6) DR. DI/VIGHT’S MOTHER.-—
Dr. Dwight’s mother lived to be more
than a hundred years of age. VVhen
she was a hundred and two, some peo-
ple visited her on a certain day, and
while they were with her, the bell was
heard toll for a funeral. The old lady
burst into tears, and said, ‘ VVhen will
the bell toll for me ‘.3 It seems that the
bell will never toll for me. I am
afraid that I shall never die.’
THE AVARICIOUS FAR-
MER.-—The following fact illustrates
the noted line of Dr. Young :
“ All men think all men mortal but themselves.”
Mr. A. was a wealthy farmer in
Massachusetts. He was about sixty
years of age ; and it had been his ruling
and almost only passion in life to ac-
quire property. His neighbor B. owned
a small farm which came too near the
centre of A.’s extended domain. It
was quite a blot in A.’s prospect- -de-
stroyed the regularity of his lands, and
on the whole it was really necessary,
in his opinion, that he should add it to
his other property. B. became embar~
I22, 123
DEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES.
rassed, and was sued; judgments ob-
tamed, and executions issued. A. now
thought he should obtain the land, but
one execution after another was arrang-
ed, and finally the debt was paid off with-
out selling the land. When A. heard of
the payment of the last execution, which
put an end to his hopes of obtaining the
land by this means, he exclaimed, “Well,
B. is an old man, and cannot live long,
and when he diesl can buy the lot.”
B. was 58 years old, A. 60 ! Reader,
do you ever expect to die ’!
(g) RULIN G PASSION STRONG
IN DEATH.—When the king of Prus-
sia became sensible of the near ap-
proach of dissolution, he desired to see
is army defile before him for the last
time. His bed was accordingly carried
to a window, whence by reflection in a
mirror he was enabled to take a last
adieu of the troops.
Napoleon Bonaparte, under similar
circumstances, ordered himself to be
seated and arrayed in his military dress
that he might meet the king of terrors
as he had been accustomed to meet his
mortal foes. What a lesson do such
instances read to us of the influence of
a ruling passion in absorbing the mind
to the exclusion of all proper sense of
the awful realities of eternity.
(h) DYING SILENT.-—In
visit but one which Whitfield paid to
America, he spent a day or two at
Princeton, under the roof of Dr. Finley,
then President of the College at that
g7l‘;i.ce At dinner, the Dr. said, “ Mr.
., I hope it will be very long before
you will be called home; but when
that event shall arrive, I shall be glad
to hear the noble testimony you will
the last

-_- V
bear for God.” “You would be dis-
appointed, Doctor,” said \V., “ Ishall die
silent. It has pleased God to enable
me to hear so many testimonies for him
during my life, that he will require
none from me when I die.” The man
ner of W.’s death verifies his prediction.
(2') REMARK OF JOHN NEW.
TON.—Rev. John Newton one day
mentioned at his table the death bi
a lady. A young Woman who sat op.
posite immediately said, “O sir, how
did she die ?” The venerable man
replied, “ There is a more important ques-
tion than that, my dear, which you
should have asked first.” “ Sir,’ ’ said
she, “what question can be more im-
portant than “How did she die '2”
“How did she live '2” was Mr. New-
ton’s answer.
“I WILL NEVER LEAVE
THEE.’ ’—Many\good people, who feel
that the “grace” of God is now “suf-
ficient for” them, are nevertheless dis-
quieted with a fearful apprehension that
in death “their hope will be as the
giving up of the ghost.” It is related
of Robert Glover, one of the martyrs,
that for several days before his death
he was almost overwhelmed with the
prospect of martyrdom, and earnestly
supplicated for the light of God’s counte-
nance, without any sense of comfort.
His darkness continued up to the period
of his arriving within sight of the stake,
when suddenly his whole soul was so
filled with consolation, that he could not
forbear clapping his hands, and crying
out, “ He is come I He is come I” He
appeared to go up to heaven in a cha-
riot of fire, with little or no apparent
sensibility of his cruel death.
123. DEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES.
(a) A CHURCH CONSULTING
THEIR CON SCIENCES.—A minister
was about to leave his own congregation
for the purpose of visiting London, on
what was by no means a pleasant errand
-—-to beg on behalf of his place of worship.
Previous to his departure, he called to-

gether the principal persons connected
with his charge, and said to them, “ Now
I shall be asked, whether we have con-
scientiously done all that we can for
the removal of this debt; what answer \
am I to give’.2 Brother So-and-so, can
you in conscience say that you have ?’
254
DEBTS ON MEETING-HOUSES.
123
_n_--_-_- - -‘-p-A —
“ Why, sir,” he replied, “If you come
to conscience, I don’t know that I can.”
The same question he put to a second,
and a third, and so on, and similar an-
swers were returned, till the whole sum
required was subscribed, and there was
no longer any need of their pastor’s
wearing out his soul in coming to Lon-
don on any such unpleasant excursion.
(b) REFLEX BENEFITS OF A
BIBLE SOCIETY.-—An anxious, re-
tired, and diligent country clergyman,
waited upon a layman of enlarged, en-
lightened and truly Christian views, to
lay before him the case of his prostrat-
ed and embarrassed parish. “If we
cannot raise a few hundred dollars,”
said he, “to pay off a small debt for
erecting the church, it will be impossi-
ble to get along.” “It is exceedingly
diflicult,” was the reply, “to raise
money abroad for these purposes; can-
not a subscription be raised amongst your
own people to pay off the debt ?” “I
doubt,” was the rejoinder, “ whether
twenty dollars could be collected for the
purpose.”
The friendly adviser well knew that
this could not be owing to absolute pe-
cuniary inability. He paused a mo-
ment for reflection, and then asked, very
irrelevantly, as the minister thought,
whether he had a Bible Society in his
parish. “ No,” said he. “ VVell, then,
go home and set about forming one in-
stantly. If your difficulties are not
surmounted by this means, they exceed
the measure of my wisdom.” In the
retirement of his study the expedient
appeared at first to the good clergyman
absolutely hopeless. He relied much,
however, upon the wisdom of his ad-
viser, and reflected that at any rate it
was a good work, and the only thing
which could relieve his sorrowful re-
flections by the energy of action. Ac-
cordingly he set himself diligently to
work, and after encountering many dif-
ficulties succeeded in doing something
for the Bible cause. But that, though
a blessed thing, he considered a mere
trifle, when at the end of two years he
announced with ine qrressible animation

¢--—~_—_-0
and delight to his noble adviser, that his
church was paid for, an organ pu1 chased,
his family made more comfortable than
ever, and that all the affairs of the
parish were going on most admirably.
It seems all that was wanted was a
lively interest in religious things. Let
some of our poor parishes who cannot
pay for churches, or feel unable to build
them, who have no ministers, or worse
still, are starving those they have, try
the experiment of getting up vigorous
and interesting missionary associations.
(c) THE DEACON’S TWO
CENTS.—A minister who was urged
by his people to go out on a begging ex-
cursion, to solicit money to liquidate a
debt on their meeting-house, put up on
Saturday night with the deacon of a
church to which he was to present the
subject on the ensuing Sabbath. He
seemed to be quite wealthy, and as he
treated his guest with great cordiality
and kindness, the preacher cherished
glowing expectations of a very generous
contribution from his purse. On the
Sabbath, after setting forth the claims of
his object in as forcible and eloquent
a manner as possible, the plates were
passed around for money. As the
deacon sat near the pulpit, the preacher
could not resist the temptation of rising
up a little and peering over the pulpit
to witness the expression of the good
man’s liberality. As the plate ap-
proaches the deacon, he leisurely puts
his hand into his pocket. The preach-
er’s heart palpitates with anxiety. But,
alas, the deacon just drops from his
thumb and fingers two red cents upon
the plate and lets it pass I The preacher
suddenly sank back into his seat, and
hope and faith died within him. The
collection, it seems, was small, and the
preacher, mortified and indignant, went
straight back to his people, told them
the story of the two cents, and assured
them they must raise the funds needed
themselves or send some one else forth
to beg besides him. The people caugh
his spirit—-they determined to solicit no
further—increased their subscriptions.
and paid their debts themselves.
255
l2 1-126
DEGREES, DIVINE——DELAY OF REPEN TAN CE.

_- —u_
124. DEGREES, DIVINE.
(a) THE MOST IMPORTANT
DECREE.—A person in the lower
ranks, at Lockwinnock, whose life and
practice had been every thing but that
of a genuine Christian, was, neverthe-
less, a great speculator on the high
points of divinity. This unhallowed
humor remained with him to his death-
bed, and he was wont to perplex and
trouble himself and his visitors with

knotty questions on the Divine decrees,
and such other topics. Thomas Orr, a
person of a very different character,
was sitting at his bedside, endeavoring
to turn his attention to his more imme-
diate concerns. “ Ah, VVilliam,” said
he, “ this is the decree you have at pre-
sent to do with, ‘ He that believeth shall
be saved ; he that believeth not shall be
damned.’ ”
DELAY OF REPENTANCE.
1%. Causes Regret after Conversion.
(a) TESTIMONY OF SEVERAL
CHRISTIANS.-—Two aged disciples,
one eighty-seven years old, one day
met. Well, inquired the younger of
his fellow-pilgrim, how long have you
been interested in religion’.2 “ Fifty
years,” was the old man’s reply. VVell,
have you ever regretted that you began
so young to devote yourself to religion’.2
“ O no,” said he, and the tears trickled
down his furrowed cheeks; “I weep
when I think of the sins of my youth.
It is this which makes me weep now.”
Another man of eighty, who had been
a Christian fifty or sixty years‘, was
asked if he was grieved that he had be-
come a disciple of Christ. “ O no,”
said he; “ if I grieve for any thing, it is
that I did not become a Christian be-
fore.”
A Christian friend visited a woman
of ninety, as she lay on her last bed of
sickness. She had been hoping in
Christ for half a century. In the course
of conversation she said, “ Tell all the
children that an old woman, who is just
on the borders of eternity, is very much
grieved that she did not begin to love
the Savior when, a child. Tell them
youth is the time to serve the Lord.”
Said an old man of seventy-six, “I
did not become interested in religion till
I was forty-five ; and I often have to
tell God, I have nothing to bring him
but the clregs of old age.”

Said another man, between sixty and
seventy years of age, “ I hope I became
a disciple of the Lord Jesus when I was
seventeen,” and he burst into tears as
he added, “ and there is nothing which
causes me so much distress as to think
of those seventeen years—-some of the
very best portion of my 1ife—-which I
devoted to sin and the world.”
1%. Ilardens the Heart.
(a) THE CONSUMPTIVE’S TES.
T IMONY.—A few years since, writes
the Rev. Jacob Abbot, when spending a
Sabbath in a beautiful country town, I
was sent for to visit a sick man who
was apparently drawing near the grave.
I was told, as I walked with the neigh-
bor who came for me toward the house
of the patient, that he was in a melan-
choly state of mind. “ He has been,”
said he, “ a firm believer and supporter
of the truths of religion for many years.
He has been very much interested in
maintaining religious worship, and all
benevolent institutions ; he has loved the
Sabbath school, and given his family
every religious privilege; but he says
he has never really given his heart to
God ; he has been devoted to the world,
and even now, he says, it will not re-
linquish its hold.” “ Do you think,”
said I, “that he must die '2” “Yes,”
replied he, “he must die, and he is fully
aware of it. He says that he can see
his guilt and danger, but that his hard
256
GRIEVES AWAY THE HOLY SPIRIT.
126,127

;-I-up
heart will not feel.” This is the exact
remark which is made in thousands and
thousands of similar cases, and in al-
most precisely the same language. The
eyes are opened, but the heart remains
unchanged. We, at length, approached
the house : it was in the midst of a de-
lightful village, and in one of those calm
still summer afternoons, when all nature
seems to speak from every tree, leaf,
and flower, of the goodness of God; and
to breathe the spirit of repose and peace.
I wondered that a man could lie on his
bed with the windows all around him
opening upon such a scene as this, and
yet not feel. As I entered the sick
room, the pale and emaciated patient
turned towards me an anxious and agi-
tated look, which showed too plainly
what was passing within. It was a case
of consumption. His sickness had been
long and lingering. His strength was
now almost gone ; he lay gasping for
the breath which his wasted lungs could
not receive. His eye moved with a
quick and anxious glance around the
room, saying, by its expression of bright
intelligence, that the mind retained its
undiminished power. Itried to bring to
his case those truths which I thought
calculated to influence him, and lead
him to the Savior : but he knew all that
I could tell him; and I learned from
his replies, given in panting whispers,
that religious truth had been trying its
whole strength upon him all his life;
and that, in presenting it to him again
now, I was only attempting once more
an experiment, which had been repeat-
ed in vain almost every day, for forty
years. I saw the utter hopelessness of
effort, and stood by his bedside in silent
despair. He died that night. Reader,
if your heart is cold and hard towards
God, abandon all hope that the alarm
and anxiety of a death-bed will change
it. Seek forgiveness NOW.
(6) MY HEART IS HARD.--An
old man, one day taking a child on his
knee, entreated him to seek God now-
to pray to him-—and to love him ; when
the child, looking up at him, asked,
“But why do not you seek God '2” The
old man, deeply affected, answered, “I
Would, child; but my heart is hard——
my heart is hard.”
,_—
(0) THE OLD MAN’S CONFES-
SION.—--The late Dr. Clark, of Phila-
delphia, in one of his sermons, illustrates
the absurdity of deferring the work of
salvation by the following striking fact.
He was present on an occasion when a
most solemn appeal was made to the
young, to seek God without delay; the
preacher urging as a motive, that,
should they live to be old, difficulties
would multiply, and their reluctance to
attend the subject would increase with
their years. As the reacher descend-
ed from the pulpit at the close of the
service, an aged man came forward, ant.
extending his hand to him, with much
emotion remarked,——“ Sir, what you
said just now is unquestionably true. I
know it from my own experience.
When I was young, I said to myself,
I cannot give up the world now, but I
will by-and-by, when I have passed the
meridian of life, and begin to sink into
the vale of years; then I will become a
Christian; then I shall be ready to at-
tend to the concerns of my soul. But
here I am, an old man. I am not a
Christian. I feel no readiness nor dis-
position to enter upon the work of my
salvation. In looking back, I often-
times feel as thoughl would give worlds
if I could be placed where I was when
Iwas twenty years old. There were
not half as many difliculties in my path
then as there are now.” But. though the
big tears coursed down his cheeks as he
gave utterance to these truths, the emo-
tions that were stirred up within him,
like the early dew, soon passed away.
He did not turn to God.
1537. Grieves away the Holy Spirit.
(a) “NOW I AM UNDONE.”__
A young woman became acquainted with
religion in a pious family, but left the
situation in which she enjoyed religious
privileges, for one much superior as it
respects this world ; but alas l the mas-
ter of the house was a lover of pleasure
more than a lover of God. Here reli-
gious duties were not only neglected, but
persecution from her fellow servants
this induced her to neglect private pray
I er and other means of grace.

even ridiculed. She met with no little‘
At leng'h
17
257
I27
DELAY OF REPENTANCE.

she was seldom seen at public worship.
A Christian friend perceived her declen-
sion by her backwardness to discourse
on religious subjects, which she had for-
merly appeared to love. But she did
not return back to the world without
considerable checks of conscience. She
knew that she was doing wrong, but
became hardened by the deceitfulness
of sin.
About the twentieth year of her age,
she broke a blood-vessel. An apothecary
was sent for immediately, but no relief
could be afforded. On the day after
the circumstance took place, she was
visited by the person who had observed
her decline i11 religion, who says: “ On
asking her how she was, she said,‘ Very
bad, very bad.’ On being asked as to
her eternal welfare, she exclaimed,
‘ That is what I want ; my life I care not
for, if my sins were pardoned.7 I/Vhen
Ispoke of the power and willingness of
Christ to save lost sinners, she answered,
there was no pardon for her. I enlarged
on the precious promises of the gospel,
but all seemed to aggravate the feelings
of her guilty conscience. She burst
into tears, and said, ‘Oh that I had re-
pented when the Spirit of God was
striving with me I but now I am undone.’
Iagain visited her late in the evening
of the same day. She was much weak-
er from the loss of blood, and her coun-
tenance bespoke the dreadful horror of
her mind, which no doubt hastened her
speedy dissolution. On asking her how
she felt, she answered, ‘ Miserable! mis-
erable !’ I repeated some encouraging
passages of Scripture, but alas! all in
vain; her soul labored under the great-
est agonies: she exclaimed, ‘ Oh! how
I have been deceived ! When I was in
health, I delayed repentance from time
to time. Oh that I had my time to live
over again! Oh that Ihad obeyed the
gospel ! but now I must burn in hell for
ever. Oh I cannot hear it! I cannot
hear it!’
“In this manner she continued breath-
ing out most horrible expressions.
“ I reminded her that Jesus Christ
Would in no wise cast out those sinners
Who come to him, and that his blood
cleanseth from all sin. She said,‘ The
blood of Christ will be the greatest tor-

ment I shall have in hell; tell me no
more about it.’ I then left her with
feelings not to be described. She died
next morning at six o’clock. I inquired
of the woman who attended her, if she
continued in the same state to the last.
She said, that she was much worse after
I left her, and that they durst not stay
in the room with her. She was heard
to exclaim several times, about an hour
before her end, ‘Eternity! eternity!
Oh ! to burn throughout eternity ! ’ ”
(b) SEEK RELIGION NOW.-—
A gentleman called his sons around his
dying bed, and gave them the following
relation :—“ VVhen I was a youth, the
Spirit strove with me, and seemed to
say, ‘ Seek religion now ,' but Satan sug-
gested the necessity of waiting till I
grew up, because it was incompatible
with youthful amusement; so I resolved
I would wait till I grew up to be a man.
I did so, and was then reminded of my
promise to seek religion ; but Satan
again advised me to wait till middle
age, for business and a young family
demanded all my attention. ‘ Y es,’ I
said, ‘I will do so ; I will wait till mid-
dle age.’ Idid so; my serious impres-
sions left me for some years. They
were again renewed: conscience re-
minded me of my premises; the Spirit
said, ‘Seek religion now;’ but then I
had less time than ever. Satan advised
my waiting till I was old; then my
children would be settled in business,
and I should have nothing else to do; I
could then give an undivided attention
to it. I listened to his suggestion, and
the Spirit ceased to strive with me.
have lived to be old, but now I have no
desire as formerly to attend to the con-
cerns of my soul : my heart is hardened.
I have resisted and quenched the Spirit;
now there is no hope. Already I feel
a hell within, the beginning of an eter-
nal misery. I feel the gnawings of that
worm that never dies. Take warning
from my miserable end ; seek religion
now; let nothing tempt you to put off
this important concern.” Then in the
greatest agonies he expired.
(0) THE FATAL RESOLU-
TION.—Lydia Sturtevant, was the
daughter of pious parents in one of the
New England States. She possessed a
258
GRIEVES AWAY THE HOLY SPIRIT.
I27
cultivated mind, buoyancy of spirits, and
beauty of person—the ornament of her
circle, the admiration of all who knew
her.
During the summer of 1824, she had
deep religious impressions, and felt that
it was unsafe to neglect religion longer.
She deliberated, she reasoned, she
prayed, and finally made up her mind
to the resolution that she would repent
and accept the ofler of salvation before
the close of THAT DAY. But the day
had its cares and pleasures, its company
and business, and the night found her
as thoughtless, almost, as she had been
for months.
The next morning she had renewed
convictions, saw her guilt more clearly,
and in great agony of soul, resolved
again, “to begin religion before the
close of that day.” With this new
resolution her anxiety somewhat abated,
and though she thought often during the
day, of the vow she had made, night
came again and nothing decisive had
been done. The next morning her im-
pressions were again renewed, and she
again renewed her resolution; it was
dissipated again ;, and thus she went on
resolving and breaking her resolves
till she relapsed into her former uncon-
cern. She was not absolutely indif-
ferent; she still expected and resolved
to become a Christian, but her resolu-
tions looked forward to a more distant
period, and she returned to the world
with the same interest as before. Some
three or four months after this, she was
taken sick. It was her last sickness——
she was sick only five days—though
none thought that she would die till
eight hours before she died. About
daybreak on the morning of that day,
she was informed that her disease would
probably prove fatal. The ir elligence
was awfully surprising. The fatal
resolution, as she called it, which she
had formed about the same hour of the
day, a few months before, was brought,
by the opening twilight, afresh to her
mind; and her soul was filled with
horror at her situation. She saw her-
self on the brink of etcrnity——a hardeneo
smner—-her Saviour slighted--the Spirit
grieveo and gone !
What could she do '2 The blood was

beginning to stagnate, the lungs to
falter! F eeble and faint, she raised
her haggard eyes and summoned every
energy to pray. O, what agony did
that prayer express! She called, she
begged for mercy, till she sunk into
a swoon. As consciousness returned,
she began to pray again; then again
fainted. On reviving she called on her
friends to pray for her ; and accordingly
all knelt while one engaged in prayer.
As they rose Rev. Mr. Phelps, the
minister present, began to repeat some
promises of Scripture which he thought
appropriate to her case. She inter-
rupted him, saying it Was too late, and
that there was no 'ardon for her.
With her dying breath she charged
him to warn the youth of his congrega-
tion not to neglect religion as she had
done, or “still their convictions by a
mere resolution to repent.” Death
soon closed the affecting scene.
(d) THE AGED PROCRASTINA-
TOR.——In January, 1825, Mr. H ,
of S ,New-York, says a clergyman,
called upon me, and taking me by the
hand, said, “ Sir, do you think there is
any mercy in heaven for a man who
has sinned more than eighty years ?”
“There is mercy,” I replied, “ for
those who repent of sin, and believe on
the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Still pressing my hand, while tears
were flowing over his wrinkled cheeks,
and his frame trembling, he more car-
nestly renewed his inquiry, “ My dear
sir, do you believe that God will for-
give a man who has rebelled against
him eighty-one years in this world '2”
Before a word was uttered in reply, he
cried out in agony, “I know I shall not
be forgiven—I shall die in my sins!”
This caused me to ask how he knew,
or what induced him to believe that
God would never have mercy on him '5
He replied, “I will tell you, and
disclose what I never uttered to any
human being: I/Vhen I was twenty-one
l was awakened to feel that I was
a sinner. I was then intimate with a
number of young men, and was asham-
ed to have them know that I was
anxious for my soul. For five or six
weeks I read my Bible, and prayed
every day in secret. Then I sazd us


259
I28
DELAY OF REPENTANCE.

my heart one day, I will put this subject
off“ until I am married and settled in
life, and then I will attend to my soul’s
salvation. But I knew that I was doing
wrong.
“After I was settled in the world, I
thought of the resolution I had made,
and of my solemn promise to God then
to make my peace with him. But as I
had no disposition to do so, I again said
in my heart, ‘I will put off this subject
ten years, and then prepare to die.’
“ The time came, and I remembered
my promise ; but I had no special
anxiety about my salvation. Then did
I again postpone, and resolve that if
God would spare me through another
term of years I would certainly attend
to the concerns of my soul. God spared
me ; but I lived on in my sins; and
now I see my awful situation. I am
lost. N ow I believe that I sinned
against the Holy Ghost when I was
twenty-one, and that I have lived sixty
years since my day of grace was past.
“I know that I shall not be forgiven.”
When asked if we should pray with
him, he replied, “Yes, but it will do no
good ;” so fearfully certain was he of
destruction. He continued in this state
for weeks and months. All attempts to
urge him to accept of salvation were
in vain; this blighting sentiment was
ever first in his thoughts. “It will do
no good.” His feelings were not con-
trition, or repentance for sin; but the
anticipation of wrath to come. And in
this state he died.
1%. Accompanied by Sudden Death.
(a) BOAST NOT OF TOMOR-
ROW.—The Rev. G. Whitfield men-
tions in his journal, that during his first
voyage to Georgia, the ship’s cock was
awfully addicted to drinking ; and when
reproved for this and other sins, boasted
that he would be wicked till within two
years of his death, and would then
reform. He died of an illness, brought
on by drinking, in six hours.
(b) PHILIP I-IENRY’S WARN-
ING.—--Mr. Philip Henry said to some
of his neighbors who came to see him
on his death-bed, “O make sure work
for your souls, my friends, by getting

i _-p-__
an interest in Christ, while you are
in health. If I had that work to do
now, what would become of me’.2 I
bless God, I am satisfied. See to it, all
of you, that your work be not undone
when your time is done, lest you be un-
done for ever.”
(0) AN INCH OF TIME.—-“ Mil-
lions of money for an inch of time,”
cried Elizabeth—-the gifted, but ambi-
tious queen of England, upon her dying
bed. Unhappy woman! reclining upon
a couch—with ten thousand dresses in
her wardrobe—a kingdom on which
the sun never sets, at her feet—all now
are valueless, and she shrieks in an
guish, and she shrieks in vain, for
a single “inch of time.” She had en-
joyed threescore and ten years. Like
too many among us, she had devoted
them to wealth, to pleasure, to pride,
and ambition, so that her whole prepa-
ration for eternity was crowded into a
few moments I and hence she, who had
wasted more than half a century,
would barter millions for an inch of
time.
(d) THE FATAL THURSDAY.-—
A few years ago, (says the N. Y.
Evangelist of 1831,) there lived in the
vicinity of Boston a young lady of ami-
able character, lovely person, and agree-
able deportment ; her mind was awaken-
ed on the subject of religion: she felt
that she was a sinner; and the fearful
consequences of the judgment were full
in her view. In this trying hour she
was urged to repent, at once, without
delay. She seemed to think that the
terms were hard and peremptory, al-
though they were according to the word
of God. When she retired alone, her
conscience pressed her, and she came
to the conclusion that she would cer-
tainly give up her heart to Christ, in
four years. This, at first, gave her
some ease of mind ; but she soon re-
flected that she might not live so long as
four years, and then, if she did not re-
pent, she might be lost for ever. She
was again alarmed, and resolved to re-
pent in three years; at this resolution
she was calm for a moment, but reflect-
ing that she might not live this period,
she was again alarmed, and again re-
solved that in one year she would cer
260
ACCOMPANIED BY SUDDEN DEATH.
I28
..

;__-_--
tainly attend to the concerns of the soul.
This was a much shorter time ; and on
resolving on this period, she was com-
posed for nearly a week ; but reflecting
again, a whole year seemed a consider-
able ‘ime, and if she should die, she
Would be lost for ever. Under the pres-
sure of an awakened conscience, she re-
solved, most solemnly, that on the next
Thursday, she would give herself to
Christ.——This time was so short, and
her resolution so solemn, that she seem-
ed to think the work was done. She
was after this perfectly at ease ; she had
made a solemn resolution, and had fixed
the time when she would attend to this
great concern of salvation ; here she
rested. But it was a fearful and awful
delusion. On Friday she was taken ill,
and required medical aid ; but nothing
seemed to arrest the progress and vio-
lence of her fever, and she died on Wed-
nesday ,' and the very day she had fixed
on, to attend to the interests of her soul,
her body was laid in the silent tomb.
She had her senses, and knew that she
could not live ; but she had no hope in
the Savior. She said she had rejected
and grieved the good Spirit, and it had
gone, and would not alarm her, nor give
her any hope.
(e) TOO SOON-—TOO LATE.-l
A man who would enjoy the pleasures
of this world, said, it was too soon for
him to think of another world. He
journeyed, and was taken ill very sud-
denly, in the middle of the night, at an
inn. The people there sent for a clergy-
man. He came, and the dying man
looking him in the face, before he could
speak, said to him, “ Sir, it is too late.”
The minister said, “Christ is able to
save to the uttermost,” and explained
the gospel to him; he replied, “ Sir, it
is too late.” The clergyman asked,
“ Will you allow me to pray with you ?”
His only reply was, “ Sir, it is too late.”
He died saying, “It is too late.” Oh,
that all, especially the young, may take
warning fron this fact, and seek for sal-
vation before it is too late!
AMAZING CONTRAST.-—
When I was travelling in the State of
Massachusetts, writes an American min-
ister, twenty-six years ago, after preach-
lug one evening in the town of , a


very serious looking young man rose,
and wished to address the assembly.
After obtaining leave, he spoke as fol-
lows :-—-“ My friends, about a year ago,
I set out in company with a young man,
an intimate acquaintance, to seek the
salvation of my soul. For several
weeks we went on together, we labored
together, and often renewed our engage-
ment, never to give over seeking till we
obtained the religion of Jesus. But all
at once, the young man neglected to at-
tend public worship, appeared to turn
his back on all the means of grace, and
grew so shy of me, that I could scarce-
ly get an opportunity to speak with him.
His strange conduct gave me much
painful anxiety of mind, but still I felt
resolved to obtain the salvation of my
soul, or perish, making the publican’s
plea. After a few days, a friend in-
formed me that my companion had re-
ceived an invitation to attend a ball, and
was determined to go. I went imme-
diately to him, and, with tears in my
eyes, endeavored to persuade him to
change his purpose, and to go with me,
on that evening, to a prayer meeting.
I pleaded with him in vain. He told
me, when we parted, that I must not
give him up as lost, for, after he had at-
tended that ball, he intended to make a
business of seeking religion. The ap-
pointed evening came; he went to the
ball, and I went to the prayer meeting.
Soon after the meeting opened, it pleased
God, in answer to prayer, to turn my
spiritual captivity, and make my soul
rejoice in his love. Soon after the ball
opened, my young friend was standing
at the head of the ball room, with the
hand of a young lady in his hand. pre-
paring to lead down the dance; and,
while the musician was tuning his violin,
without one moment’ s warning, the
young man fell backwards dead on the
floor. I was immediately sent for to as-
sist in devising means to convey his re-
mains to his father’s house. You will
be better able to judge what were the
emotions of my heart, when I tell you,
that that young man was my own bro-
ther.”
( g) FATAL RESOLVE.——A friend
was once pressing, on a young lady of
fifteen, the importance of thinkinsr of re-
261
I28
DELAY OF REPENTANCE.

ligion ; she replied, she Would do so
when she was older; but added; “I
will enjoy the world While I am young.”
In vain did her friend remind her of the
uncertainty of life; she appeared dis-
pleased and repeated her resolution.
But mark the result: in about three
weeks after, that friend attended her
funeral! Oh, reader, think of this fact,
and trust not to to-morrow, for “now is
the day of salvation.” Facts like the
above are constantly occurring, and call
for an instant attention to “the things
which make for our eace.”
(ll) DEATH IN THE BALL
ROOM .—-A young merchant, in one of
the large cities of America, was seized
with a dangerous illness, which brought
him, apparently, to the very confines of
the eternal world. In this situation his
past neglect of the Savior rushed with
power on his conscience, and in the
most solemn manner he vowed to lead
a new life, if he recovered. Unexpect-
edly, both to himself and every one else,
ne gradually attained his former health.
During the progress of his recovery, be
regarded his vow, and professed decid-
ed attachment to the service of God.
But when he returned to the business
of life, he resumed his gayeties, and in-
dulged in all the vanity of a fashionable
life. A friend, who had heard and was
deeply affected by his solemn vows when
in trouble, reminded him of the affect-
ing scene ; he remembered it, and de-
clared his intention of fulfilling all he
had said, as soon as he had fulfilled
two or three pressing engagements.
Then he would give up his soul to the
work ; then he would seek God with all
his heart. A few days after the ad-
monition, he attended a fashionable and
splendid ball : in the midst of his gayety
and mirth, death suddenly entered the
festive hall, and the gay and thought-
less merchant fell a corpse. Oh, im-
mortal sinner, beware of delaying at-
tention to the concerns of eternity!
(2) THE SIX BROKEN VOWS.
-—A poor thoughtless man was once
taken ill, and sent for the minister of his
parish to visit him. He then professed
to be very penitent ; but he recovered,
and again fell into his evil courses. A
second time he was ill, and the same

promises were held out, but never reali
zed. Six times was this the case in the
course of his life. At length, while en-
gaged in sin, he was cut off suddenly,
and entered into an eternal world
Reader, “ to-day” hear the voice of God,
and harden not thine heart.
(j) TI-IE PRESUMPTUOUSHEIR.
—Rev. Mr. Baker, a F ree-will Baptist
evangelist, was visiting from house to
house, in a certain neighborhood, in
New England; and met on his walk
three young men with axes on their
shoulders. He stopped and conversed
with them. Two appeared somewhat
serious: the third, a gay, frank young
man, replied, “You see, sir, that
splendid white house on that farm yon-
der?” “Yes.” “VVell, sir, that es-
tate has been willed to me by my uncle ;
and we are now going to do chopping
in the woodland that belongs to it.
There are some incumbrances on the
estate which I must settle, before the
farm can be fully mine; and as soon
as I have cleared it of these incum-
brances I mean to become a Christian.”
“ Ah! young man,” said the minister,
“beware ; you may never see that day ;
while you are gaining the world, you
may lose your soul.” “ I’ll run the risk,”
said he, and they parted. The three
young men went into the woods; and
this daring procrastinator, and another,
engaged in felling a tree. A dry, heavy
limb, hung loosely in the top; and as
the tree was jarred by the successive
strokes of the axe, it quit its hold, and
as it fell crashing through the branches
to the earth, it struck the head of the
young heir, in its way, and stretched
him on the ground a lifeless corpse.
Thus were his hopes cut off ,' and
hazarding the delay of months he lost
his soul in an hour. His fellow-laborer
was converted; for conviction struck
his mind when he saw the young heir
quivering in death! “I felt then such
a horror at the danger of delaying reli-
gion, when I thought what he had just
said, and saw his end, that I determined
to neglect my soul no longer.” His
example was followed by others; and
a great revival ensued.
(Ii) FIVE MINUTES TO CRY
FOR MERCY.--In the early part of
262
MISCELLANEOUS.
I29
p-—_-—
my ministry, said the Rev. Mr. T.
East, of Birmingham, a woman was in
the habit of attending the place of wor-
ship in which I preached, who occupied
a seat on the stairs, and who was very
tenacious of her sitting, not allowing
any other person to occupy it. She
was observed by her friends, who
sought occasion to converse with her on
the important subject of religion; but
she was very shy and evasive. All
they could extract from her was this
appalling reply: “Oh, I shall only_
want five minutes time when I am dy-
ing to cry for mercy: and I have no
tloubt God Almighty will give it me.”
It was in vain to remonstrate with the
woman ; this was always her reply.
Time passed on. One day, I was walk-
ing down the street, when a young wo-
man ran up to me in a state of great
agitation and excitement, exclaiming,
“ O, Mr. East, I have found you ; do
come to my mother, sir 5 come this mi-
nute, sir: she is dying, she is dying I”
I hastened with her to the house, and
was astonished to find in the dying suf-
ferer the poor unhappy woman who had
attended my place of worship. She
was evidently expiring: but, turning
her dying eyes towards me, she cried
out, “ O, Mr. East, I am damned, I am
damned!” and expired.
1:29. Miscellaneous.
(a) EXCUSES OF THE GREEN-
LANDERS.-—Numbers of the Green-
landers, who had for a time adhered to
the Moravian Missionaries, and promised
well, drew back, and walked no more
with them; while the greater part of
those who were wavering, seduced by the
concourse of their heathen countrymen,
again joined the multitude. One being
asked why he could not stay, answered,
“I have bought a great deal of powder
and shot, which I must first spend in the
south, in shooting reindeer ;” another,

_
“I must first have my fill of bears’
flesh ;” and a third, “ I must have a gooo
boat, and then I will believe.”
(Z2) GREENLANDERS AND
THE END OF THE WORLD.-
Some of the unconverted inhabitants of
Greenland had heard that the world
should be destroyed, and, as in that
case they should have nowhere to go,
they expressed a desire to be con-
verted, that they might go with the be-
lievers. “ But,” added they, with that
carelessness and procrastination so na-
tural to man, in the things that belong
to eternity, “ as the destruction will not
happen this year, we will come in next
season.”
(0) ADVICE REJECTED.-VVhen
a young man made an open profes-
sion of the gospel, his father, great-
ly offended, gave him this advice,-—-
“James, you should first get yourself
established in a good trade, then think
of and determine about religion.” “ Fa-
ther,” said the son, “ Christ advises me
differently, he says, ‘Seek ye first the
kingdom of God.’ ”
(ti) VVORK FOR THE DAY BE.
FORE DEATH.—Rabbi Eliezer said,
“ Turn to God one day before your
death.” His disciples said, “ How can
a man know the day of his death '?” He
answered them, “Therefore you should
turn to God TO-DAY. Perhaps you may
die to-marrow ; thus, every day will be
employed in returning.”
(e) A YOUNG MAII UNDER
SENTENCE OF DEATH.—-A young
man, on Whom sentence of death was
Passed, said, two days before his execu-
tion, “I am afraid that nothing but the
fear of death and hell makes me seek
the Savior now, and that I cannot ex-
pect to find him. The words, ‘Seek
ye the Lord while he may be found,’
trouble my mind very much, as they
show me that there is a time when h
may not be found.”
263
130,13:
DENIAL CF CHRIST--DEPENDENCE ON GOD.

-n----_-_-_-_-. -. -_ _—
130. DENIAL
a) THE MARTYR’S PRAYER
ANSWERED.--David Straiton, one
of the Scottish martyrs, was brought to
the knowledge of the truth, through
the instrumentality of John Erskine of
Dun. One day, having retired with
the young laird of Laurieston, to a
quiet and solitary place in the fields, to
have the New Testament read to him, it
so nappened, that in the course of read-
ing, these words of our Savior occurred,
“He that denieth me before men, in the
midst of this wicked generation, him
will I deny in the presence of my
Father and his angels.” On hearing
them, he became of a sudden, as one
enraptured or inspired. He threw him-
self on his knees, extended his hands,
and, after looking for some time earn-
estly towards heaven, he burst forth
in these words, “O Lord, I have been
wicked, and justly mayest thou with-
draw thy grace from me; but, Lord,
for thy mercy’s sake, let me never deny
thee nor thy truth, for fear of death and
corporal pains.” The issue proved that
his prayer was not in vain. F or at his
trial and death, he displayed much firm-
ness and constancy in the defence of the
truth, and gave great encouragement to
another gentleman, Norman Gourlay,
who suffered along with him.

OF CHRIST.
(6) THE SUBSCRIf’TI‘)N RE-
CANTED.-—“ Bishop Jewel,” says Ful-
ler, “being by the violence of POPISII in-
quisitors, assaulted on a sudden to sub-
scribe, he took a pen in his hand, and
said, smiling, ‘Have you a mind to see
how well I can write?’ and thereupon
underwrit their opinions.” Jewel, how-
ever, by his cowardly compliance, made
his fees no fewer without, and one the
more, a guilty conscience, within him.
His life being way-laid for, with great
difliculty he got over into Germany.
Having arrived at Frankfort, by the
advice of some friends, he made a
solemn and affecting recantation of his
subscription, in a full congregation of
English Protestants, on a Sabbath morn-
ing, after having preached a most ten-
der, penitential sermon. “It Was,”
said he, “my abject and cowardly mind
and faint heart, that made my weak
hand commit this wickedness.” He bit-
terly bewailed his fall ; and with sighs
and tears, supplicated forgiveness of the
God whose truth he had denied, and of
the church of Christ, which he had so
grievously offended. The congregation
were melted into tears, and “all em-
braced him as a brother in Christ; yea,
as an angel of God.”
131. DEPENDENCE ON GOD.
(at) THE AGED CHRISTIAN’S
ADVICE TO A YOUNG MINIS-
TER.—I well remember, said an emi-
nent minister in North Wales, that when
the Spirit of God first convinced me of
my sin and danger, and of the many
difficulties and enemies I must encoun-
ter, if ever I intended reaching heaven,
I was often to the last degree in fear ;
the prospect of the inany strong tempta-
tions and allurements, to which my
youthful years would unavoidably ex-
pose me, greatly discouraged me. I
often used to tell an aged saldier of

Christ, the first and only Christian friend
I had any acquaintance with for several
years, that I wished I had borne the
burden and heat of the day like him.
His usual reply was, that so long asl
feared, and was humbly de_pendent uprm
God, I should never fall, but certainly
prevail. I have found it so. O, blessed
be the Lord, that I can now raise up
my Ebenezer, and say, “Hitherto hath
the Lord helped me.”
(b) HAPPY INFLUENCE OF
DANGERS.—At a meeting held in
reference to the establishment of schools
264
,0
DEPENDENCE ON GOD.
131
in the highlands and islands of Scot-
land, Dr. M’Leod related the following
facts :--
A friend of mine happened to be in a
boat, by which a poor simple-hearted
man from St. Kilda was advancing, for
the first time in his life, from his native
rock to visit the world; and as he ad-
vanced towards the island of Mull, a
world in itself in the estimation of the
poor St. Kilda man, the boatmen com-
menced telling him the wonders he was
so soon to see. They asked him about St.
Kilda; they questioned him regarding
all the peculiarities of that wonderful
place, and rallied him not a little on his
ignorance of all those great and mag-
nificent things which were to be seen
in Mull. He parried them off with
great coolness and good humor; at
length, a person in the boat asked him
if he ever heard of God in St. Kilda.
Immediately he became grave and col-
lected. “To What land do you be-
long '2” said he; “describe it to me.”
“ I,” said the other, “ come from a place
very different from your barren rock ;
I come from the land of flood and field,
the land of wheat and barley, where
nature spreads her bounty in abundance
and luxuriance before us.” “Is that,”
said the St. Kilda man, “the kind of
land you come from? Ah, then, you
may forget God, but a St. Kilda man
never can. Elevated on his rock, sus-
pended over a precipice, tossed on the
wild ocean, he never can forget his God
——-he hangs continually on his arm.”
All were silent in the boat, and not a
word more was aked him regarding his
religion.
(0) THE BEST REFUGE.——“A
few years ago,” says one, “ when an in-
vasion of England by the French was
much talked of, the pious Mrs. C of
L , heard her pupils relating to each
other, where they thought they would
conceal themselves on the approach
of the enemy, should his threats be
realized. With her usual gentleness
and condescension, she inquired into,
and listened to their little plans. I,
(who was one of her pupils,) was the
last to point out my hiding-place ; hav-
ing named mine, I added an inquiry
where her refuge would be? “My re-


fuge,” said she, with a look of devotion
and benignity characteristic of herfl
‘My refuge would be in my God.’
I felt reproved; I could not but think
hers was the best refuge.”
(cl) GOD UNACKNOWLEDGED.
-—It has been wisely observed, that we
require the same hand to protect us in
apparent safety, as in tle most immi-
nent danger. One of the nest wicked
men in the neighborhood of a pious
minister, from whom this account was
derived, was riding near a precipice,
and fell over : his horse was killed, but
he escaped unhurt. Instead of thank-
ing God for his deliverance, he refused
to acknowledge his hand in it, and at-
tributed his escape to chance. The
same man was afterwards riding on a
very smooth road; his horse suddenly
tripped and fell, threw his rider over
his head, and killed him on the spot;
while the horse escaped uninjured.
(e) THE AGED LADY’S FALL.
——An aged mother in Israel residing in
S., Rhode Island, says. that once in
travelling to and from New-York city,
she often lifted up her prayer to God
for protection and safety while being
whirled along in the railroad cars or
borne in the steamboat over the waters
of the deep. The desired protection
was vouchsafed ; and on her return she
had safely arrived at the last railroad
depot of the journey. Now Iseemed
to feel, says she, as if all danger had
passed, and I omitted to ask God for any
further protection as though I could take
care of myself. But in passing out of
the depot when it was somewhat dark,
to walk upon the platform in front, she
made a false step, fell to the ground
and received a severe injury that con-
fined her to her house for several
weeks!
There 1s_no safety for an hour except
in Ged’s keeping; and often when we
im. wine that every natural law is in our
favor, we may be in the most imminent
peril—within a hair’s breadth of the
grave.
) SAYING OF NEVVTON.—-
The Rev. J olm Newton sometimes said,
he had received more damage at his
own door th n in all the countries he
had been in ahroad, for he had twice fal-
265
131, 132
DEPRAVITY.
len down the steps at his own door, each
time spraining a knee. So much in-
jury he had never received abroad.
Such a fact shows clearly the necessity
of our always living as if exposed to
danger, and thus committing ourselves
to the Divine protection.
(g) THE SI-IIP’S RETURN .--A
ship, which had, on a long voyage, es-
caped many great dangers from storms,
&c., at length arrived safe in port, or
harbor. On seeing the safety of the
ship, a little boy, who had sailed in it,
naturally expressed great joy that they

_ --1 @-
were now, as he thought, out of all dan-
ger. In about half an hour after this
expression of joy, the poor little fellow
fell overboard into the water, and was
drowned before any assistance could
reach him. Thus many die; they
forget God, flatter themselves with
security, and then sudden destruction
cometh. Our lives are newly loaned
to us by God every moment; let us
constantly recognize the fact, and so live
that living or dying We mayr be the
Lord’s.
132. DEPRAVITY.
(0) HONESTY TESTED.--A
gentleman was once extolling at an ex-
travagant rate the virtue of honesty:
what a dignity it imparted to our na-
ture; how it recommended us to the
Supreme Being; and confirmed all by
a celebrated line from Pope,
“ An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”
“ Sir,” replied his friend, “ however ex-
cellent the virtue of honesty may be, I
fear there are few men in the world
that really possess it.’ ’ “You surprise
me,” said the stranger. “Ignorant as
I am of your character, sir, I fancy it
would be no diflicult matter to prove
even you a dishonest man.” “I defy
you.” “Will you give me leave, then,
to ask you a question or two, and
cromise not to be offended '2” “Ask
your questions, and welcome.’ ’ “ Have
you never met with an opportunity of
getting gain by unfair means '2” The
gentleman paused. “I don’t ask, Have
you taken advantage of such an op-
portunity'.Z ,but, Have you ever met
with such an opportunity? I, for my
part, have; and I believe every body
else has.” “Very probably I may.”
“How did you feel your mind affected
on such an occasion’? Had you no se-
cret desire, not the least inclination,
to seize the advantage which offered’.Z
Tell me without any evasion, and con-
sistently with the character you ad-
mire.” “I must acknowledge, I have

not always been absolutely free from
every irregular inclination; but ——”
“Hold, sir, none of your salvos, you
have confessed enough. If you had
the desire, though you never proceeded
to the act, you were dishonest in heart.
This is what the Scriptures call con-
cupiscence. It defiles the soul. It is
a breach of that law which rcquireth
truth in the inward parts; and, unless
you are pardoned through the blood of
Christ, will be a just ground of your
condemnation, when God shall judge
the secrets of men.”
(12) A GOD TOO SI-IARPSIGHT_
ED.--Some of the natives of South
America, after listening a while to the
instructions of the Catholic missionaries,
gave them this cool answer: “You say
that the God of the Christians knows
every thing, that nothing is hidden from
him, that he is every where, and sees
all that is done below. Now, we do
not desire a God so sharpsighted; we
choose to live with freedom in our
woods, without having a perpetual ob.
server of our actions over our heads.”
(0) MILNE’S CONVICTIONS.__
Dr. Milne, the pious missionary, in speak-
ing of his conversion, says, “The book
which God made use of more especially
for convincing me of my sin and misery,
was Boston/s Fowfold State, which I
read with the deepest attention. It con-
ducted me to my own heart, discovered
the evils which before lay hid in the
266
DEPRAV IT Y.
Q“ Vr—1
chambers of imagery; the monstrous
ingratitude to God Which had marked
all my conduct; and the pollution of
original and actual sin, with which my
soul was contaminated. I saw thatl
was necessarily under the strongest and
most righteous obligations to God, and
had never for one hour of my life dis-
charged them, but lived in rebellion
against the author of my life ; so I was
justly under the curse of God’s right-
eous law, and exposed to everlasting
misery.” Under the tormenting fears
of eternal wrath, he sometimes wished
himself transformed into a stone, or one
of the fowls he saw flying over his head
in the fields. He was frequent and fer-
vent in prayer, and was, in the mercy
of God, led to those means by which
he learned how even a vile andguilty
creature, such as he was, might be for
ever saved.
(ti) HATING GOOI)NESS.—“ I
happened once,” says Dr. Cotton Ma-
ther, “ to be present in the room where
a dying man could not leave the world
until he lamented to a minister (whom
he had sent for on his account), the unjust
calumnies and injuries which he had of-
ten cast upon him. The minister asked
the poor penitent what was the occasion
of this abusive conduct ; Whether he had
been imposed upon by any false report.
The man made this answer, ‘ N o, sir, it
was merely this; I thought you were a
good man, and that you did much good in
the world, and therefore I hated you.
Is it possible, is it possible,’ he added,
‘ for such a wretch to find pardon?’ ”
(e) THERE GOES DR. IVES.—-
The Rev. and pious Dr. Ives, whose
house was on Oxford road, and by
which the criminals were carried week-
ly in carts to Tyburn, used to stand at
his window, and say to any young
friends who might be near him, pointing
out any of the most notorious male-
factors, “ There goes Dr. Ives!”——If
an explanation was asked, he took oc-
casion to expound the innate corruption
of the human heart; and appealed to
the ezqperience of his auditors, “ whether
they had not felt the movements of
those very passions, errors, prejudices,
lusts, revenge, eovotousness, &c.,
whose direct tendency was to produce

132
the crimes for which these offenders sa-
tisfied the claims of public justice, and
which were solely prevented from car.
rying them to the same dreadful fate,
by the restraining grace of God.”
OLD ADAM TOO HARD
FOR YOUNG MELANCTHON.—-
When Melancthon was first converted,
he thought it impossible for his hearers
to withstand the evidence of the truth
in the ministry of the gospel. But after
preaching a while, he complained, “that
old Adam was too hard for young Me-
lancthon.”
(g) ERSKINE AND THE CRI-
MINAL.—The holiest and best men
have been usually the most ready to
acknowledge the natural depravity of
their hearts, and the greatness of their
obligations to the free and sovereign
grace of God, in preserving or deliver-
ing them irom the consequences of that
depravity.-—During the ministry of the
Rev. Ralph Erskine, at Dunfermline, a
man was executed for robbery, whom
he repeatedly visited in prison, and
whom he attended on the scaffold. Mr.
Erskine addressed both the spectators
and the criminal; and, after conclud-
ing his speech, he laid his hands on his
breast, uttering these words—--“ But for
restraining grace, I had been brought,
by this corrupt heart, to the same con-
dition with this unhappy man.”
(It) THE LAVV OF GOD RE-
JECTED BY PAGANS.-—“ The rea-
son why we hate that law,” said some
idolaters to a zealous missionary, “ is,
because it is holy: and therefore it is
we destroy it. If it would allow us to
rob freely, if it did dispense with our
paying the tribute which the king ex-
acts, if it taught us to be revenged of
our enemies, and give way to our pas-
sions, without being exposed to the con-
sequences of debauchery, we would
heartily embrace it; because it so se-
verely curbs our inclinations, therefore
we reject it, and do command you the
catechist to depart out of the province
immediately.”
(2') BREAKING THE COMMAND
MENTS.—-—A poor negro, a few years
ago, thus addremed the late Rev. Mr.
Johnson, at Regent’s Town, on the
western coast of Africa :-—
267
I32
DEPRAVITY.
—-
Yesterday morning, when you preach,
you show me that the law be our
schoolmaster to bring us to Christ. You
talk about the ten commandments. You
begin at the first, and me say to my-
self, “Me guilty!” the second, “ Me
guilty!” the third, “Me guilty!” the
fourth, “Me guilty!” the fifth, “Me
guilty !” Then you say the sixth,
Thou shalt not kill ; me say, “ Ah ! me
no guilty ! me never kill some person.”
You say, I suppose plenty people live
here, who say, “ Me no guilty of that !”
Me say again in my heart, “Ah, me
no guilty !” Then you say, “ Did you
never hate any person '2 did you never
wish that such a person, such a man,
or such a woman was dead !” Massa,
you talk plenty about that ; and what I
feel that time I can’t tell you. Italk
in my heart, and say, “ Me the same
person !” My heart begin to beat ; me
want to cry, my heart heave so much
me don’t know what to do. Massa, me
think me kill ten people before break-
fast! I never think I so bad. After-
wards you talk about the Lord Jesus,
how he take off our sin. Ithink I stand
the same like a person that have a big
stone upon him head, and can’t walk——
want to fall down. O massa, I have
trouble too much ; I no sleep all night.
(He wept much.) I hope the Lord Je-
sus Christ will take my sins from me.
Suppose he no save me, I shall go to
hell for ever.
A KEEN REPLY.—John Wes-
ley, in a considerable party, had been
maintaining, with great earnestness,
the doctrine of Vox Populi voa: Dei,
against his sister, whose talents were
not unworthy the family to which she
belonged. At last the preacher, to put
an end to the controversy, put his argu-
ment in the shape of a dictum, and said,
“I tell you, sister, the voice of the
people is the voice of God.” “Yes,”
she replied mildly, “it cried ‘Crucify
him, crucify him!’ ” A more admir-
able answer was perhaps never given.
(/5) A STRANGE THIN G.—A
friend of Tedyuscung once said to him,
When he was a little intoxicated, “ There
is one thing very strange, and which I
cannot account for; it is why the In-
dmns get drunk so much more than the

white people.” “ Do you think strange
of that '2” said the old chief; “ why, it
is not strange at all. The Indians think
it no harm to get drunk whenever they
can ; but you white men say it is a sin,
and yet get drunk nevertheless !”
(J) VIRTUE EMBODIED.——-Dr.
Blair, when concluding a public dis-
course, in which he had descanted with
his usual eloquence on the amiability of
virtue, gave utterance to the following
apostrophe: “O virtue, if thou Wert
embodied, all men would love thee.”
His colleague, the Rev. R. Walker,
ascended the same pulpit, on a subse-
quent part of the same Sabbath, and ad-
dressing the congregation, said, “My
reverend friend observed, in the morn-
ing, that if virtue were embodied, all
men would love her. Virtue has been
embodied; but how was she treated?
Did all men love her’.2 No; she was
despised and rejected of men: who,
after defaming, insulting, and scourging
her, led her to Calvary, where they
crucified her between two thieves.”
The effect of this fine passage on the
audience was very powerful.
(m) CONVERSION OF A MORA-
LIST.--Miranda N ., says a Christian
minister, was about 18 years of age,
much distinguished for personal beauty,
but more for uncommon sweetness of
disposition, and great amiableness of
deportment. There Was not probably
among all the people of my charge, one
whose case would have been more
promptly cited, and perhaps none so
effectively, to disprove the doctrine of
the entire sinfulness of the unregenerate
heart. She was deservedly a general
favorite. She seemed to entertain the
kindest affection towards all, and every
one who knew her loved her. One
evening at an inquiry meeting, held at
my house,I noticed, in a full room, a
female in great apparent distress. The
disturbance she made by her loud sobs,
and frequent and painful interruption of
the silence of the room, induced me to
pass by others and go to her at once. On
coming to h-er seat, I was not a little
surprised to find myself by the side of
Miranda. The first inquiry I put to
to her was this : What has brought you
here, M. '2 With emphasis, she repried,
268
DESPAIR, UNFOUNDED.
133
.-F
“ My sins, sir.” With a view to test
the reality and depth of her convictions,
lthen said, “But what have you done
which makes either your heart or your
life appear so heinously sinful '2” At
this second question she broke out in a
voice that reached the extreme part of
the room and thrilled through every
heart, for she was known and loved by
every person there,——“I HATE Gon,
AND I KNOW IT. I HATE CHRrsT1ANs,
AND I rnvow IT. I HATE MY own BE-
ING. OH THAT I HAD NEVER BEEN
BORN !” As she uttered this acknow-
ledgment, she rose and left the room in
irrepressible agony. Deeply as I was
interested in her case, I could not fol-
low her and leave the many with whom
I had yet to converse; but conducted
her across the hall into the opposite
room, where Mrs. S. was employed in
attendance upon a sick child. The re-
133. DESPAIR,
(it) THE DESPAIRING VVOMAN
CONVERTED.—-A young woman,
whom Dr. Gifford visited in prison, and
who was to be tried for her life, heard
him speak a good while in an awful
strain, not only unmoved, but at last
she laughed in his face. He then altered
his tone, and spoke of the love of Jesus,
and the mercy provided for the chief of
sinners, till the tears came in her eyes,
and she interrupted him by asking,
“ Why ; do you think there can be
mercy for me '2” He said, “Undoubted-
ly, if you can desire it.” She replied,
“ Ah ! if I had thought so, I should not
have been here ; I have long fixed it in
my mind that I was absolutely lost, and
without hope, and this persuasion made
me obstinate in my wickedness, so that
I cared not what I did.” She was
afterwards tried, and sentenced to trans-
portation, and Dr. Gifford, who saw her
several times, had a good hope that she
was truly converted before she left Eng-
and.
(I2) THE CHRISTIAN IN HELL.
-—James Rose was resident at Floor, in
Ncrthamptonshire, (England,) and was

‘—---~

mainder of the narrative I received from
Mrs. S.
After a little conversation, as I was
informed, between Mrs. S. and Miranda,
who was walking the room in great dis-
tress, her eye lighted upon a copy of
Village Hymns, which lay upon the
sideboard. She eagerly caught it up,
and read at the first page to which she
opened, these words:
“ There is a fountain filled with blood,
Drawn from Immanuel’s veins ;
And sinners plunged beneath that flood,
Lose all their guilty stains.”
As she finished this verse she dropped
the book and exclaimed, “ I have found
my Savior. This is the Savior I
need. O precious Savior!” and many
other expressions of the same kind.
Her enmity to God was gone. ‘Her
burden was removed. Christ n as all
in all to her.
UN FOUN DED.
esteemed by all his religious acquaint
ance, a very humble, pious man. He
was a constant and serious attendant on
the means of grace, both public and pri-
vate ; and was scarcely ever absent from
church meetings. His general conver-
sation showed a mind mortified to the
world, and devoted to God. This good
man, towards the close of life, was under
great darkness and dejection of mind;
and in his last sickness was filled with
desponding apprehensions as to the safe-
ty of his state. These apprehensions
he expressed in so affecting a manner,
as greatly interested the feelings of his
pious friends, and particularly Mr. Petto,
the pastor of the church, who frequently
visited, conversed, and prayed with him.
All this availed nothing; he refused to
be comforted, because he thought that
the promises of the gospel did not belong
to him. As death seemed to approach,
he was violently agitated with horror
and despair, and addressed his friends
that visited him in terms that filled them
with great distress. The circumstance
occasioned great searching of heart
among them. They had been vt mt to
269
133
DESPAIR, UN F OUNDED.
entertain a very high opinion of his per-
sonal piety, and could not account for
this strange dispensation. However,
the day on which he died, a minister
who was on a journey, called at Mr.
Petto’s, not with any view of stopping;
but Mr. Petto desired him to alight, for
he had a circumstance to relate to him,
which was the case of this poor dis-
tressed friend, and expressed a wish that
he would go and see him, in hopes he
might be directed to say something that
might be useful. After giving a brief
account of the life and conversation of
Mr. Rose, expressing the great esteem
he had for him, and the concern which
his present state of distress gave him,
&c., they went to see him. On ap-
proaching the bed of the poor dying
man, the minister asked him how he was
in his mind’.2 “ O sir,’ ’ sa1d he, “ never
worse, never worse .' I am in a lost state I
just dying, and have no hope I I am as
sure that I shall go to hell, as I am of
being a man I” The minister replied:
“ Friend, I am grieved to find you under
so much dejection ; but however, though
[dare not positively say that you will
not go to hell, from all the accounts I
can gather concerning you, I believe
you are not likely to stop there long ; for
you have loved the company of serious
Christians, to converse with them on
religious subjects; and you were most
in your element when you have been
attending at such opportunities. You
have been wont to tell of the love and
loveliness of Christ—-of his matchless
grace and condescension in assuming
human nature, and obeying and suffer-
ing for the redemption and salvation of '
sinners; and also of the work of the
Holy Spirit, in revealing Christ to the
souls of sinners, as the only hope set
before them in the gospel. N ow I would
have you to know that, as this was the
habitual temper and disposition of your
mind, and in all the past part of your
life, ever since you knew the Lord Jesus
Christ, death will make no change in
the habit of your mind. Nay; and if
you should even go to hell, you will be
the same man; and you will iegin to
talk m the same subjects. Now, this
will never be borne; your company
will soon be hateful to the inhabitants

-_ ‘-0..-
—-d
of hell, and the devil Wlll soon turn you
out again.”
This peculiar thought was the means,
in the hand of the Spirit, of setting the
poor man at liberty; for, with an ex-
pressive smile, he exclaimed, “ All is
well, all is well I” and departed in a
few minutes after. Those words had
a remarkable accomplishment in him :"
“ Mark the perfect man, and behold the
upright; fer the end of that man is
eace.”
(0) WILSON AND THE SOL-
DIER.—One evening, as the Rev. Wil-
liam Wilson of Perth was passing along
the streets of that town, three soldiers,
then quartered in it, happened to walk
behind him, who were indulging in the
utterance of the most profane and blas-
phemous language. One of them, on
some frivolous account, declared it to
be his wish, that God Almighty might
damn his soul in hell to all eternity.
Mr. Wilson immediately turned round,
and, with a look of dignity and compas-
sion, said, “ Poor man, and what if God
should say amen, and answer that pray-
er I” Mr. Wilson passed on. The man
seemed to stand petrified, and, on going
home to his quarters, was in such dis-
traction of mind and feeling, that he
knew not whither to turn for relief.
He was soon afterwards seized with
fever, under which he continued to suf-
fer the most awful forebodings of eternal
misery. His case was so singular, that
many Christians went to visit him, to
whom he invariably said he was sure
of being beyond the reach of mercy,
and that God had sent his angel to tell
him so. One of them asked him to de-
scribe the appearance of the person who
had pronounced this doom on him. He
did so, and the visitant at once perceiv-
ing that it must have been Mr. Wilson,
inquired if he would wish again to see
him. “Oh,” said he, “I would wish
above every thing to see him, but he
will not come near a wretch like me.”
Mr. Wilson was soon brought, and told
him of the way of salvation through
Christ crucified, and encouraged him to
flee for refuge to lay hold upon the hope
set before him. His words being ae.
companied by Divine power, the poor
soldier was enabled to believe in Christ,
270
DIFFICULTIES IN CHURCHES.
131
and thus found peace and comfort to his
troubled soul. He soon afterwards re-
covered, and became a very exemplary
Christian ; and, as he felt the army un-
favorable to a religious life, Mr. W. at
his request used influence, and procured
'-—r_-__-
his discharge. He settled in Perth, be-
came a member of the church, attached
himself steadily to Mr. Wilson, and was
through life a comfort to him, and an
ornament to the Christian profession.
134. DIFFICULTIES IN CHURCHES.
(0.) FULLER A’\lD HIS CHURCH.
--Some years after Mr. Fuller had re-
moved from Soham to Kettering, a dif-
ficulty arose between him and some of
the members of this church, which grew
and increased, till it became formidable.
It was expected by both parties, that
Mr. Fuller must quit his place, as no
means of accommodation presented it-
self. It was a time of painful suspense
to a few, who began to perceive in him
the open: ng of those faculties which after-
wards were so conspicuous and useful.
In these diificulties, application was
made to Dr. Ryland, then of Northamp-
ton, Rev. Robert Hall, senior, of Arnsby,
and Rev. J no. Sutcliff, of Almy, to meet
at Kettering, and give their advice.
Mr. Hall proposed to be there the
day before the meeting ; and, if agreea-.
ble, to give them a sermon in the
evening. The meeting was published,
and the people assembled. Mr. Hall
came according to appointment, and an-
-nounced from the pulpit as his text, the
following words—-—“ And one went in
and told his Lord, saying, thus and thus
said the maid, that is of the land of
Israel.” 2 Kings 5: 4. '
After an ingenious and appropriate
introduction, he made upon the words
two remarks. 1. Much of the trouble
and confusion in society originate in the
parties misunderstanding each other.
2. A mutual, candid explanation will
frequently remove all such ditficulties,
and restore harmony.
When he had finished the service
and pronounced the benediction, a dea-
con of the church arose and requested,
that the members of the church would
keep their places, till the congregation
were withdrawn. The church being
by themselves, he addressed them in
purport as follows :-—Brethren, we have

had much trouble of late; we have
been led to think hard of on pastor,
and to wish him removed. It occurred
to me while Mr. Hall was preaching,
is there no misunderstanding among
us’.Z There may be, and that may be
the cause of our difliculty. As several
of his brethren had similar impres-
sions, the business was freely discussed.
They came to the conclusion to draw
up a list of their complaints, and to add
to each a suitable question, which their
pastor was requested to answer in wri-
ting. They sent messengers with this
paper to wait upon him immediately,
and request his answers to the questions.
After free conversation with him in his
study, he furnished them with the
required answers, which they carried
back to their brethren, who were wait-
ing for them in the meeting-house.
They examined them, acknowledged
they had been entirely mistaken, and
that there was no ground for any dif-
ference between them and their pastor.
With this report they sent their messen-
gers back to Mr. Fuller, who received
them in a Christian spirit, and all the
diificulties were done away before the
parties slept. He spent the rest of his
days with them in usefulness, honor and
credit, and few men ever enjoyed more
of the affection of a church than him-
self.
(2)) THE MISDIRECTED LET-
TER.—“ The Rev. Mr. Bulkley of
Colchester, Conn., was famous in his
day as a casuist and sage counsellor.
A church in his neighborhood had fall-
en into unhappy divisions and conten-
tions, which they were unable to adjust
among themselves. They deputed one
of their number to the venerable Bulk-
ley, for his services, with a request that
he would send it to them in writing
271
134,135
DISCIPLINE, FAMILY.

The matters were taken into serious con-
sideration, and the advice, with much de-
liberation, committed to writing. It so
happened, that Mr. Bulkley had a farm
in an extreme part of the town, upon
which he intrusted a tenant. In su-
perscribing the two letters, the one for
the church was directed to the tenant,
and the one for the tenant to the church.
The church was convened to hear the
advice which was to settle all their dis-
putes The moderator read as follows :
You will see to the repair of the fences,
that they be built high and strong, and
you will take special care of the old black
ball. This mystical advice puzzled
the church at first, but an interpreter
among the more discerning ones was
soon found, who said, Brethren, this is
the very advice we 1nost need ; the di-
rection to repair the fences is to ad
monish us to take good heed in the ad-
mission and government of our mem-
bers; we must guard the church by
our Mastcr’s laws, and keep out strange
cattle from the fold. And we must
in a particular manner set a watch-
ful guard over the Devil, the old black
bull, who has done so much hurt of late.
I
All perceived the wisdom and fitness of
Mr. Bulkley’s advice, and resolved to
be governed by it. The consequence
was, all the animosities subsided, and
harmony was restored to the long af-
flicted church.
(c) KILPIN’S METHOD.—When
any member of Mr. Kilp1n’s church at
Exeter, came with details of real or sup-
posed injuries, received from a fellow-
member, after listening to the reporter,
Mr. K. would inquire if they had men-
tioned these grievances to their offend-
ing brother or sister. If the reply was
in the negative, and usually it was so,
he would then calmly order a messen-
ger to fetch them, remarking, that it
would be ungenerous to decide, and un-
scriptural to act, merely from hearing
the statement of one party. This de-
termination always produced alarm,
and the request that nothing might be
mentioned to the parties implicated.
This plan had a peaceful influence, and
often produced humility and sclf-accu-
sation. Assertions and proofs are very
different grounds for the exercise of
judgment, and are more distinct than
angry persons imagine.
135. DISCIPLINE, FAMILY.
1%. Disciplining Children in Infancy.
(a) THE ROD SUCCESSFUL.-
The following fact occurred in the
family of a pious minister, who had
then a revival in his congregation.
“Electra,” said her mother to a
little daughter of two and a half years
old, playing on the floor, “bring me
that apple, my dear.” She looked at
her mother and said, “No,” with in-
difference, and resumed her play. Her
mother rejoined, “bring me that apple
instantly ;” and was answered, “I
wont.” Things now became in ear-
nest; and after several more orders and
refusals, the case was resigned to the
father, who was present and observed
the scene. With a tone of authority,
and yet benevolence, he reiterated the
mandate, “Take that apple to your
mother, my child !” Electra arose and

went to the place where the apple was,
picked up a chip that was near it, re-
turned, threw it into her mother’s lap,
and was going to her play. Her father
here took hold of her, brought her near
him, expostulated, warned, and then re-
ordered her. Her sullenness deepened
into silence and malignity—-my will be
done, was her deliberate position. Her
father took down the provided birch,
and very dispassionately applied it to
the obstinate offender. Electra scream-
ed, and begged, and called for her mo-
ther, who first interfered, and then, not
succeeding, in a flood of tears left the
room. Her father forbore, and tried
her again. She walked pouting and
sobbing to the apple, stood still near it,
and said——she could not pick it up. Her
father understood the nature of her in-
ability, and its true relation to account-
ability. He paused for some minutes,
2'72
4___1
-n~
Electra looked alternately at the apple
and at him, pouted, rubbed her eyes,
and said again that she could not pick
up the apple. Another whipping was
the consequence. Electra screamed
louder than ever, begged and promised.
On this her father tried her again. She
went to the apple, stood still, held her
eyes to the floor, said and did nothing.
Here some sympathetic spectators-—
friends of the family visiting—began to
plead and apologize for the sufferer, and
insinuated that it was useless and ty-
rannous to persist. Her father, with a
ook, gave them their answer, and his
sentiments. He again applied the birch,
and let not his soul spare for her cry-
ing. As soon as he ceased, while his
steady carriage had awed the circle into
silence, Electra showed another crea-
ture: she ran to the apple, took it up,
and brought it to her father. Her ac-
tions spoke her obstinacy gone, her
pride subdued, her temper humbled,
tender, penitent. Her mother was call-
ed. As soon as she entered the apart-
ment, “ Electra,” said her father, “ put
this apple where it was on the carpet ;”
she obeyed. Agam, said he, “ Take it
up and carry it to your mother.” She
obeyed with alacrity and tears. “ Come
here, my daughter.” She came. -To
the questions, “Are you sorry ’?” and
others like it, she assented ; constantly
opening her arms and raising her lips
for the caresses of her father.
Her mother then began her confession,
asked pardon for the improper strength
of her feelings, and acknowledged that
her love for the child was spurious in
comparison with that of her husband.
The others united in the acknowledg-
ment.
(0) THE BALL OF YARN.-
M--, was the only child out of five,
spared to her parents. The father re-
lates the following incident which oc-
curred when she was two years old.
She was diverting herself with a ball
of yarn, one day, from which her grand-
mother was occasionally taking a piece
to mend stockings. The old lady wish-
im: to replenish her needle, called upon
M-— for ti" ; hall. For some reason
best known to her little self she refused
to give it up. The request for the ball
DISCIPLINING CHILDREN.
3!‘

[35
was several times repeate' but withou‘
obtaining it. The father sitting by,
reading, interfered and added his re~
quest that she would giv-e up the ball,
but without effect. He then told her
decidedly—-“ Carry the ball to gt :nd-
ma.” But instead of obeying she fixed
herself in a position of I‘8SISll3.-1C6 ; anl
with eyes directed to the floor, and h.r
hand grasping the ball more firmly, she
stood unmoved. The command was
repeated; but the only answer /vas a
shrug of the shoulders, a twitga of the
muscles, and a gle ice of the eye, in-
timating decidedly “I wont.” The
command was repeated agam, and, to
his surprise, the same 3.l1S\nC1‘ was
given. He arose from his seat, and
approaching her, repeated the cc-.m-
mand; but instead of obedience she
threw the ball spitefully across the
room. He took her by the hand, led
her to the ball, told her to take it up
and carry it to her grandmother. She
refused-—-he bent her forward and
placed her hand on the ball, repeating
the command; but instead of obeying
she gave it a knock to the other side of
the room. He led her to it and re-
peated the order, placing her hand
again on the yarn, and accompanying
the order with a threat of punishment;
but to no effect. After spending about
fifteen minutes in this way, he inflicted
several smart blows; but, though she
cried lustily, she refused to yield. He
repeated the blows two or three times
until she stopped crying, and finally
submitted. She catches up the ball,
and filled with sudden penitence and_
love, she stretches out her arms, and
strives to cling around her father’s neck
and kiss him. But, to test her sincerity,
he requires her first to carry the ball of
yarn to grandma. She does so and
comes back, but, before he will let her
kiss him, he orders her to go and get
the ball and bring it to him. She obeys
at once. He then orders her to place it
in a chair, at another end of the room;
she obeys as quickiy and returns again.
He sends her again for it, and orders
her with it thence to another place, and
thence to the old lady. All is done
as he commands. After these repeat-
ed proofs of the reality or her submis-
18
273
l36, 133’
DISCIPLINE, FAMILY.

-__-__ p
sion, he suffers her to kiss him, and to
kiss her grandmother, and then to go to
her play again. The father says, he
never had much trouble after this event
in securing the obedience of that daugh-
ter; indeed she was ever afterwards
the most affectionate and ooedient of his
children, though naturally the most de-
cided and self-willed of either of them.
136. Discipline accompanied with Praycn
(a) EF F ECT UAL CHASTISE-
MEN T.—A father called to account a
little boy, an offender about five years
of age. After conversing with him and
telling him the guilt and consequences
of disobedience, he knelt down and
prayed for him, and when he arose, re-
peated to him a few texts of Scripture,
such as,——“ He that spareth the rod,
hateth his son ; but he that loveth him,
chasteneth him betimes.” “ Chasten
thy son while there is yet hope, and let
not thy soul spare for his crying.” “The
rod and reproof, give wisdom, but a
child left to himself, bringeth his pa-
rents to shame.” After briefly explain-
ing these passages, the father contin-
ued: “You see, my son, what God
says ; now what is my duty Cl” “ Why,
Pa,” said the little boy, “ it is your duty
to punish me: I have done wrong and
deserve it.” After receiving the chastise-
ment, he embraced and kissed his father
with evident thankfulness, and promised
never again to disobey him.
(Z2) SIGNIFICANT CONFESSION.
--I am acquainted, says the Rev. R.
J . Smith, with a young man whose father
died when he was but an infant, but
whose mother always controlled and go-
verned him. One day in conversation
upon this subject, he remarked to me,
“ Whenever I was guilty of disobeying
my mother, and she called me to ac-
count, she would talk to me seriously,
and then kneel down in prayer and tell
God all about my conduct and the con-
sequences of my course. I used to feel
at such times as if my heart would
burst, and I have often said—-“ Ma,
whip me, but don’t talk to me and pray
for me.” “Ah,” said he, “ it was the
talking and praymg that affected me
more than the whipping though all
were necessary.”

(c) APPLYING THE WRONG
REMEDY.—A gentleman’s son, says
the Berlin Evangelical Journal, was
brought to Mr. Flattich, an aged clergy-
man, of YVirtemburg, Germany, who
was famous as an instructor of youth,
with the request that he would place
him under his discipline and instruction.
“I must give you to understand,” said
the gentleman, when alone with the min-
ister, “that my son is a desperate lad,
upon whom, hitherto, all instructions,
all corrections, have been lost. I have
admonished him, I have whipped him, I
have shamed him before company, but
he still remains a desperate boy ; praise
and blame are equally unavailing.”
The minister asked whether he had
sought for no other remedies. “ Yes,”
said the father, “I confined the boy
once to bread and water for two days
together.” The minister still asked
him if he had tried nothing else.
“Yes,” he replied, “I have exposed
him to the cold.” Upon being further
questioned, he mentioned other mea-
sures he had resorted to, without any
good effect. He had in vain sought
mild methods to bring him to reason;
he had, for example, let him go into the
company of well-behaved children; but.
the boy would escape as soon as possi-
ble into the society of boys in the street,
or else would exhibit rude behavior
before the orderly children. Upon this
the old clergyman said that all these
were not the right remedy; he knew a.
better remedy for such desperate cases,
and that was prayer. He asked him
whether he had deliberately and earn-
estly prayed with his son, and for him.
The gentleman said, he must confess he
had not done it. Then, observed the
clergyman, it need not seem strange
that all your pains applied have been in
vain. Flattich now tried his remedy
upon the boy, and it succeeded so well,
that, as the writer of this communica-
tion knows, from a desperate youth he
became an excellent and efficient man.
187. Rcligicus '.l'cndcncyr of Discipline.
(a) THE LAD’S PRAYER.--A
gentleman’s son, in England, of ten or
eleven years of age, one day teld an un-
274
RELIGIOUS TENDENCY OF DEQCIPLINE.
137
truth, which afterwards came to the
I-nowledge of his father, who determin-
ed to chastise him severely for it.
He took the boy and an instrument
of correction into a chamber, and there
reprimanded him, setting forth the hein-
ousness of the sin against God, and
the injury he was doing to his own
soul. He then proceeded to the work
of correction ; though every stroke was
doubtless as afllictive to the parent
as the child. After this the father left
the boy in the room, and made as though
he was going down the stairs, shutting
the door behind him. But, pausing a
little, he returned softly to the door, and
waited some time, hearing the sobbing
and sighing of the boy. After a while
the father heard a movement and began
to think of retreating. But after de-
scending a step or two, he heard his son
speak, and softly resuming his former
station, and looking through the key-
hole of the door, he perceived his son
on his knees! The boy proceeded to
acknowledge his guilt and shame before
God, and to pray for forgiveness; thank-
ing God for favoring him with such a
father as would not suffer sin upon him.
In many similar instances the faithful
punishment of disobedient children leads
them to be contrite towards their parents
for their offences against them; and
the transition from such penitence in a
child religiously educated, to a scrip-
tural repentance towards God, is, com-
paratively speaking, an easy and natu-
ral one. Other things being equal,
there can be no doubt of this proposition
at least, that a child who is often led
humbly to acknowledge and mourn over
his offences against his earthly parents,
is more likely to be convicted of his
sins against his heavenly Father, to
confess, forsake, and find mercy.
(Z2) THE CHILD'S GRATITUDE.
——A child, who had been trained in the
ways of religion, by a parent who was
kind, but judiciously firm, as she sunk
to rest in peaceful reliance on her Sa-
vior’s love, affectionately thanked her
beloved mother for all her tender care
and kindness; but added, “I thank you
most of all, for having subdued my self-
will.” And why so much gratitude for
the mother’s faithful discipline ? Doubt-

less because the child regarded it as
preparatory to the submission of her
will to God, and thus instrumental of
her salvation.
(0) THE INDULGED CHlLD.—-
A mother, says Rev. R. J. Smith, relat-
ed to me t- e following instance, illus-
trating the relation between submission
to parental authority, and conversion or
submission to the will of God. She had
several children, and seemed properly to
understand the importance of training
them to prompt and cheerful obedience,
and, as a consequence, they were early
converted to God. One of these chil-
dren, however, had been from infancy
subject to fits, general weakness, and
derangement of the physical sys.em. lt
was the general injunction of her phy-
sician, that she should be kept as quiet
as possible, and that her will should not
be crossed. The mother acted accord-
ingly, and all her whims and desires
were freely indulged. But instead of
rendering her calm and quiet, this
course made her peevish, fretful, and
stubborn. After making it a subject
of study and prayer, the mother deter-
mined to subdue her will, and govern
her as she did her other children. She
called to her the girl, and confessed to
her that the course she had been pur-
suing towards her was wrong, and told
her that now she must depend upon
obeying her or she should punish her.
She soon required a certain duty at
her hand, but as she was not accustom-
ed to obey, she paid no regard to the re-
quirement. The mother commenced
chastising her, and said, for the time it
seemed as though the child would be
the conqueror. But fully resolved on
securing obedience, she persevered un-
til the child yielded. She was penitent,
begged her mother to forgive her, and
promised in future always to obey her.
From this time, she saw that she had
not only sinned against her mother, but
against God. A few nights after this
occurrence, the mother said she was
awakened at midnight, with the cry—-
“Ma, pray for me, for I am a grett
sinner.” She arose, knelt by her side
and commended her to God; and the
little girl begged of God, as she had be-
fore done of her mother, to forgive her;
275
138, 139
DISCIPLINE, I5 AMILY.

and arose with the evidence that her
sins were forgiven.
In a short time she was taken violent-
ly ill, and failed rapidly. One day she
called her mother to her death-bed, ex-
tended her hand and said, “ Ma, Ithank
you that you gave me that whipping
the other day; if you had not I should
have died in my sins and gone to hell ;
but now I feel that you have forgiven
me, and God has forgiven me ; andl am
going to heaven. She then embraced her
mother in her arms and kissed her, and
bade her farewell saying, “I shall soon
meet you again in heaven,” and sweet-
ly fell asleep in Jesus.
If parents do not obtain and keep the
mastery of the will, they place an
almost msurmountable obstacle in the
way of their children ever being
converted and saved. They are either
never converted, or if converted are
given to perpetual backslidings, and
make little or no progress in piety.
I/Vhile those whose wills have been sub-
jected to parental authority in early
life, are likely to be early converted,
and afterwards to prove steadfast in
their allegiance and obedience to God.
188. Discipline Withheld.
(a) THE RUINED SON.-An only
‘on of pious and respectable parents,
says a writer in the Christian Watch-
man, was sent to school in a neighbor-
ing village. He gave early intimations
of the truth of Solomon’s remark, in
Prev. 29: 15. Reports of his impro-
per conduct reached the ears, and
pierced the hearts of his fond parents,
and called forth repeated expostulations.
lwas present one day, when he re-
ceived a letter from them, written in the
bitterness of parental grief. They told
him of their anxiety, their sleepless
nights, their tears and prayers in his be-
half. They warned him of his danger ;
they implored him to listen to the coun-
scl of an affectionate father, a kind, but
heart-broken mother. The son read
the lett 31' soberly; sat for a moment as
if in deep thought, and the muscles of
his face betrayed the working of a
troubled conscience. Suddenly spring-
ing upon lis feet, and with a look of

ineffable contempt, he dashed the letter
into the fire, exclaiming, “There, now,
‘et the old man and woman warn, write
Letters, pray and whine : it is of no use:
a good whipping, well laid on, ten years
ago, would have done more to save me !”
VVhile on a journey, in September
1834, I met this same only son, on the
public road. He was reeling with in-
toxication, and pouring forth a torrent
of profane and obscene language. Me-
mory instantly reverted to his early
days, and to his pious, though misjudg-
mg parents, who have since entered
their rest. He was the only son ; a
false tenderness led to indulgence ; in-
dulgence fostered the corruptions of his
heart, and these led *him on to ruin.
The whole face of society is marked
with examples of the same kind.
139. Miscellaneous
(a) HE NEVER SPEAKS KIND TU
ME.—-Conversing the other day, says
one, with an interesting little girl be-
tween six and seven years old, I took
occasion to impress upon her mind the
debt of gratitude due from her to her
Heavenly Parent for bestowing upon‘
her so good and kind a parent, whom
every body loves. I was perfectl}
thunderstruck with her answer. Look-
ing me full in the face with her soft
blue eyes, she replied, “ He never
speaks kind to me.” Perhaps this
Christian father, harassed with the
cares of life, was unconscious that he
had roughly checked the fond attention
of his child ; but could cares or the in-
terruptions of his child excuse unkind-
ness or a total want of tokens of en-
dearment’.2 Will fathers examine their
habits on this point?
(Z2) “ MY MOTHER NEVER
TELLS LIES/’—-Some females, says
the St. Louis Observer, met at the house
of a friend, in this city, for an evening
visit, when the following scene and con-
versation occurred :—
The child of one of the females, about
five years old, was guilty of rude, noisy
conduct, very improper on all occasions
and particularly so at a stranger’s house
The mother kindly reproved her:
“ Sarah, you must not do so.”
276
DISCIPLINE, CHURCH.

—---_
139, 140

The child soon forgot the reproof and
became as noisy as ever. The mother
firmly said,
“Sarah, if you do so again I will
punish you.”
But not long after, Sarah “did so
again.” When the company were
about to separate, the mother stepped
into a neighbor’s house, intending to re-
turn for the child. During her absence
the thought of going home recalled to
the mind of Sarah the punishment,
which her mother told her she might
expect. The recollection turned her
rudeness and thoughtlessness to sorrow.
A young lady present, observing it, and
learning the cause, in order to pacify
her said,
“Never mind, I will ask your mo-
‘ther not to whip you.”
“ Oh,” said Sarah, “that will do no
good. My mother never tells lies.”
Said my informant, who is also a
parent, “I learned a lesson from the
reply of that child, which I shall never
forget. It is worth every thing in the
training of a child, to make it feel, that
its Mother never tells lies.”
(c) THE SICK CHILD.-—“ A child,”
says Mr. Abbott, “a short time since
was taken ill with that dangerous dis-'
order, the croup. It was a child most
ardently beloved, and ordinarily very
obedient. But in this state of uneasi-
ness and pain, he refused to take the
medicine which it was needful without
delay to administer. The father find-
ing him resolute, immediately punished
his sick and sulfering son; under these
circumstances, and fearing that his son
might soon die, it must have been a
most severe trial to the father; but the
consequence was, that the child was

taught that sickness was no excuse for
disobedience: and while his sickness
continued, he promptly took whatever
medicine was prescribed, and was pa-
tient and submissive. Soon the child
was well. Does any one say this was
cruel’! It was one of the noblest acts
of kindness which could have been per-
formed. If the father had shrunk from
duty here, it is by no means improbable
that the life of the child would have
been the forfeit.”
(ti) THE COUNT AND HIS
F AMlLY.——The following account is
given by Milner, in his “ (hurch His-
tory,” of the family order observed by
Eleazer, Count of Arian, in the four-
teenth century :——I cannot, said the
count, allow blasphemy in my house,
nor any thing in word or deed which of-
fends the laws of decorum. Dice, and
all games of hazard are to be prohibited.
Let all persons in my house divert
themselves at proper times, but not in a
sinful manner. In the morning, read-
ing and prayer must be attended to.
Let there be constant peace in my fami-
ly; otherwise two armies are found
under my roof, and the master is de-
voured by them both. If any ditferenee
arise, let not the sun go down upon your
wrath. We must bear with something
if we have to live among mankind.
Every evening, all the family shall be
assembled at a godly conference, in
which they shall hear something of God
and salvation. Let none be absent on
pretence of attending to my affairs. I
have no affairs so interesting to me as
the salvation of my domestics. I seri-
ously forbid all injustice which may
cloak itself under color of serving me.
140. DISCIPLINE, CHURCH.
(a) THE TWO KEYS.-—-Once from
the pulpit, at an ordination of elders, the
late Rev. Mr. M‘Cheyne made the fol-
lowing declaration :—-“ When I first en-
tered upon the work of the ministry
among you, I was exceedingly ignorant
of the vast importance of church disci-

pline. I thought that my great and al-
most only work was to pray and preach.
I saw your souls to be so precious, and
the time so short, that I devoted all my
time, and care, and strength, to labor in
word and doctrine. Vvhen cases of dis-
cipline were brought before me and the
‘Z77
140, 141
DISHONESTY PUN ISHED.

elders, I regarded them with something
like abhorrence. It was a duty I
shrank from ; and I may truly say it
nearly drove me from the work of the
ministry among you altogether. But it
pleased God, who teaches his servants
in another way than man teaches, to
bless some of the cases of discipline to
he manifest and undeniable conversion
of the souls of those under our care;
and from that hour a new light broke
in upon my mind, and I saw that if
preaching be an ordinance of Christ, so
is church discipline. I now feel very
deeply persuaded that both are of God,
that two keys are committed to us by
Christ, the one the key of doctrine, by
means of which we unlock the treasures
of the Bible, the other the key of disci-

-_.“.|--1
pline, by which we open at shut the
way to the sealing ordinaices of the
faith. Both are Christ’s gift, and neither
is to be resigned without sin.”
(Z2) EMPLOYMENT FOR A
CI—IURCH.—A minister of the gospel,
in excusing himself and his church for
not exerting themselves to instruct and
gather m the multitude around them, said,
“It is impossible for so large a church
as ours, to do much for those out of our
body. It takes,” said he, “one-third
of us to Watch the other two-thirds !”
What a confession is this! ’)nly one
in three possessing the true spirit of
Christianity, and he is prevented from
being an eflicient soldier of the cross,
by the lukewarmness and sins of his
brethren!
141. DISHONESTY PUNISHED.
(a) FEIGNING DEATH AND
DYING.—-The Gazette de Lyons pub-
lished the following fact; it happened
at Chenas not far from Lyons.-—A rich
widow, without children, had promised
to make her will in favor of her niece.
The aunt fell sick, and the niece, as
much through attachment as interest,
lavished upon her the tenderest as well
as the most assiduous cares; however,
the aunt died without making a will.
The niece was in despair for the loss of
her friend and her hopes. She went
around, told her story, and asked what
could be done. Her perfidious coun-
sellors engaged her to play the old
trick of hiding the death, and placing
herself in bed, calling for a notary and
witnesses, and dictating a convenient
testament. She did her part well, and
it succeeded wonderfully in a room that
was partially darkened. The young
girl, sunk in a pillow and curtains, pro-
nounced with a feeble and broken voice,
the last will and testament of the aunt ;
the notary wrote, and the victory was
nearly sure, when one of the witnesses,
who knew a little more than the others,
declared, he would sign no such act;
for that the pretended testatrix had been
dead for several hours, and he would
not be the accomplice of a like decep-

tion. The unhappy niece, confounded
and overwhelmed, could not support the
idea of the consequent shame and pun-
ishment of her guilt, and she suddenly
expired. She was buried at the same
time with her aunt.
(Z2) JOHN EYRE’S NEPHEW.-—
An anecdote is related of John Eyre, a
man whose name is recorded in the an-
nals of crime, as possessing 30,000Z.
and yet being sentenced to transporta-
tion for stealing eleven quires of wri-
ting paper, which shows, in a striking
manner, the depravity of the human
heart, and may help to account for the
meanness of the crime of which he
stood convicted. An uncle of his, a
gentleman of considerable property,
made his will in favor of a clergyman
who was his intimate friend, and com
mitted it, unknown to the rest of the
family, to the custody of the divine.
However, not long before his death,
having altered his mind with regard to
the disposal of his wealth, he made
another will, in which he left the
clergyman only 500l., bequeathing the
.bulk of his large property to his nephew
and heir-at-law, Mr. Eyre. Soon
after the old gentleman’s death, Mr.
Eyre, rummaging over his drawers
found this last will, and percei/ing th
278
\
DISHONESTY PUNISHED.
14]
legacy of 5001. in it for the clergyman,
without any hesitation or scruple of con-
science, he put it into the fire, and took
possession of the whole effects, in con-
sequence of his uncle being supposed
to die intestate. The clergyman coming
to town soon after, and inquiring into
the circumstances ef his old friend’s
death, asked if he had made a will be-
fore he died. On being answered by
Mr. Eyre in the negative, the clergy-
man very coolly put his hand in his
pocket, and pulled out the former will,
which had been committed to his care,
in which Mr. Eyre had bequeathed him
the whole of his fortune, amounting to
several thousand pounds, excepting a
legacy of 200Z. to his nephew.
(c) LOSS OF CHARACTER.—-
Robert Andrews. foreman to a respect-
able nurseryman at some distance from
Philadelphia, who had lived with his
employers ten years, and had a good
character, one Saturday night, after
applying for his wages, claimed pay for
a young man up to that day, whom he
had discharged some days before. His
master said, looking him steadily in the
face, “ Robert, do you want to cheat me,
by asking wages for a man that you
discharged yourself eight days ago ?’_’
He had no sooner said this, than the
miserable conscience-stricken man’s
blood forsook his face, as if he had been
stabbed to the heart. When his master
saw him so much affected, he told him
that he might still labor as he had done,
but that after such a manifestly dishon-
est attempt, his character, and the con-
fidence in it, were gone for ever. On
Monday, Robert made his appearance,
but was utterly an altered man. The
agitation of his mind had reduced his
body to the feebleness of an infant’s.
He took his spade and tried to use it,
but in vain ; and it was with difliculty
that he reached home. He went to bed
immediately; medical aid was procured,
but to no purpose, and the poor fellow
sunk under the sense of his degrada-
tion,and expired on “’cdnesday fore-
noon ! His neighbors who attended him,
say, that a short time befare he died, he
declared, that the agony mnsequent on
the loss of his character as an honest
man, which he had for sq many years

maintained, was the sole cause of his
death.
(d) THE HEIR INGENIOUSLY
DISCOVERED.—A jeweller who car-
ried on an extensive trade, and supplied
the deficiencies of one country by the
superfluities of another, leaving his
home with a valuable assortment of
diamonds, for a distant region, took
with him his son, and a young slave,
whom he had purchased in his infancy,
and had brought up more like an adopt-
ed child, than a servant. They per-
formed their intended journey, and the
merchant disposed of his commodities,
with great advantage; but while pre-
paring to return, he was seized by a
pestilential distemper, and died suddenly
in the metropolis of a foreign country.
This accident inspired the slave with a
wish to possess his master’s treasures,
and relying on the total ignorance of
strangers, and the kindness every where
shown him by the jeweller, he declared
himself the son of the deceased, and
took charge of his property. The true
heir of course denied his pretensions, and
solemnly declared himself to be the only
son of the defunct, who had long be-
fore purchased his opponent as a slave.
This contest produced various results.
It happened that the slave was a young
man of beautiful person, and of polished
manners, while the jeweller’s son was
ill-favored by nature, and said to be in-
jured in his education, by the indul-
gence of his parents. This superiority
operated in the minds of many to sup-
port the claims of the former; but since
no certain evidence could be produced
on either side, it became necessary to
refer the dispute to a court of law.
There, however, from a total want of
proofs, nothing could be done. The
magistrate declared his inability to de-
cide on unsupported assertions, in which
each party was equally positive. This
caused a report of the case to be made
to the prince, who having heard the
particulars, was also confounded, and
at a loss how to decide the question.
At length, a happy thought occurred to
the chief of the judges, and he engaged
to ascertain the real heir. The two
claimants being summoned before him.
he ordered them to stand behind a cur-
279
I43
DISINTERESTEDNESS-—DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS.

ta1n prepared for the occasion, and to 1 short debate, the judge cried out,
project their heads through two open- ‘ “Enough, enough, strike off the vil-
ings, when, after hearing their several lain’s head I” and the officer, who
arguments, he would cut ofl‘ the head
of him who should prove to be the
slave. This‘ they readily assented to;
the one from a reliance on his honesty,
the other from a confidence of the im-
possibility of detection. Accordingly,
each taking his place as ordered, thrust
his head through a hole in the curtain.
An oflicer stood in front with a drawn
cimeter in his hand, and the judge pro-
ceeded to the examination. After a
I
watched the moment, leaped towards
the two youths; the impostor, startled
at the brandished weapon, hastily drew
back his head, while the jeweller’s son,
animated by conscious security, stood
unmoved. The judge immediately
decided for the latter, and ordered the
slave to be taken into custody, to re-
ceive the punishment due to his diabol-
ical ingratitude.
142. DISINTERESTEDNESS.
(a) ADRIAN AND THE BISHOP.
—Terantius, captain to the Emperor
Adrian, presented a petition that the
Christians might have a temple by
themselves, in which to worship God
apart from the Arians. The emperor
tore his petition, and threw it away,
bidding him ask something for himself,
and it should be granted. Terantius
modestly gathered up the fragments of
his petition, and said, with true nobility
of mind, “ If I cannot be heard in God’s
cause, I will never ask any thing for
myself.”
(Z2) CALVlN’S DISINTEREST-
EDNESS.——This celebrated reformer
was remarkable for his disinterested-
ness. His goods, his books, and his
money, were not equal to one hundred
and twenty-five crowns, and yet he re-
fused, during his sickness, twenty-five
crowns, which the Council of Geneva
offered to him, because he was incapa-

ble of fulfilling the appointee rabors of
his office.
(c) WHITEFIELD REJECTING
AN ESTATE.-—It is difficult, in such
a world as this, so to live as that “ our
good ” shall not be “evil spoken of.”
Mr. Whitefield has been charged with
mercenary motives: his whole life
showed the fallacy and weakness of
such a charge. During his stay in
Scotland, in 1759, a young lady, Miss
Hunter, who possessed a considerable
fortune, made a full offer to him of her
estate, both money and lands, amounting
to several thousand pounds, which he
generously refused: and, upon his de-
clining it for himself, she offered it to
him for the benefit of his orphan-house.
This also he absolutely refused. This
incident is given on the authority of his
original biographer, Dr. Gillies, who
received it from unquestionable testi-
mony.
143. DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS.
(a) BEGINNING OF EVIL.-
A young man was sentenced to the
South Carolina penitentiary for four
years. When he was about to be sen-
tenced, he stated publicly that his
downward course began in disobedience
to his parents—that he thought he -

knew as much of the world as his father I
did, and needed not his aid or advice.
but that as soon as he turned his back
upon his home, then temptations came
around him like a drove of hyenas, and
hurried him on to ruin. There is no
place so safe and happy as a good heme.
(b) REASON FOR DISOBEY
IN G.-—The American Sunday School
280
DISTILLERS.
M-_v_~
I43;

Herald, states, that a little girl, six
years old, in a Sunday sch )OI, was re-
Deating the fifth commandment. Her
teacher endeavored to show her in
what way she was to honor her parents,
and said, “ You must honor your parents
by obeying them.” “O, ma’ am,” ex-
claimed the child, “ I cannot keep that
commandment.” “ Why cannot you
, keep it, my dear '2” “ Because, ma’am,
when my mother tells me to do one
thing, my father tells me to do another.
Now, just before I came here, my me-
ther told me to stay up stairs and learn
my lesson, and my father told me to
come down and play: now how could I
obey them both? N o, no,’ ’ closing her
little hands as if in despair, “no, no,
ma’am, it is impossible for me ever to
keep that commandment.” In such a
case, however, a child should obey the
father unless he bade her to commit
some sin. Neither father or mother
should be obeyed then.
(c) PHILIP HENRY’S PROPHE-
CY.—The Rev. Philip Henry, speaking
once of a wicked son in the neighbor-
hood, that was very undutiful to his
mother, charged some of his children to
observe the providence of God concern-
ing him; “Perhaps,” said he, “I may
not live to see it, but do you take notice,


whether God do not come upon him
with some remarkable judgment in this
life, according to the threatening im-
plied in the reason annexed to the fifth
commandment;” but he himself lived
to see it fulfilled not long after, in e
very signal providence.
(rl) THE DISOBEDIENT PUN-
ISI-IED.—-The Rev. Herbert Palmer,
B. D. master of Queen’s College, Cam-
bridge, who died in 1647, and who was
“a burning and shining light” in his
day, was remarkable for his dutiful af-
fection to his parents, not only when he
was a child, but during his whole life.
He was peculiarly attentive to his pious
aged mother ; promoting, to the utmost
of his power, both her temporal and
spiritual comfort, even to the day of her
death, which happened not long before
his own. He used frequently to enforce
this duty in his ministry, observing the
emphasis which God puts upon it
through the whole of the Scriptures.
He used to say that he had noticed the
effects of disobedience to parents, so
that he scarcely ever knew undutiful
childrer. escape some visible judgment
of God in the present life; he also
thought that the mischiefs which occur
in society frequently take their rise in
contempt of parental authority.
144. DISTILLERS.
(a) THE COLPORTEUR AND
DISTILLER.-—One day as Mr. R., a
colporteur, was passing along the road,
a man engaged in making barrels hailed
him, stating that as Mr. R. travelled
considerably, he should be glad to have
him find a purchaser for his distillery;
but the colporteur, in the spirit of his
Master, began to exhort him to attend
to his eternal interests and prepare to
give up his final account at the judg-
men‘. seat. “But what,” said he,
“shall I do with my still-l1ouse'l”
“ Repent, and get your heart right,”
said Mr. R., “ and it shall be shown
you what to do with your. distillery—
you will obtain light on that subject.”
After he left the shop, the man, who
could not read a line, and, as he after-

wards said, had never before been per-
sonally addressed by any Christian on
the subject of his sou.l’s salvation, imme-
diately fell down upon his knees and
cried to God for mercy. Some time
after, he found peace in Christ. He
gave up his distillery which cost $1,000;
and his wife, his brother and wife, and
his mother, were ere long hopefully con-
verted to God.
(b) THE GRAVE-YARD AND
THE DISTILLERY.—-An elder of the
church in , New-York, owned a
distillery, and manufactured ardent
spirits. The elder was an active
Christian, and seemed quite awake to
the benevolent efforts of the day. His
pastor was grieved that so worthy a man
should be engaged in a business which

281
I45
DOUBTS AND FEARS OF CHRISTIANS.
?_——*
brought ruin temporal and eternal upon
his fellow-men: and resolved to give
him faithful warning. While visiting
the elder at his house, the elder looked
to the grave-yard, and said, “I love to
look there—it seems to be the way to

heaven." “Yes,” said the pastor,
“and that,” pointing to the distillerv,
“is the way to hell.” It was a word
in season; and in a few weeks the
distillery was levelled to the ground.
145. DOUBTS AND FEARS OF CHRISTIANS.
(a) THE CHILD’S PRAYER.-—
A girl of twelve years of age, in one
of the S. Schools of Mass., was known
for some time to be very serious, and
anxious to have her teacher converse
with her about her soul. At length, a
beam of joy lighted up her countenance.
She said to her superintendent one day,
“Oh how I love my Savior!” One
Sabbath, soon after this, she came to
him, at the close of the school: as he
took her by the hand, she burst into
tears. “ Elizabeth,” said he, “ do you
love the Savior now '2” “Yes,” said
she, “but I have been tempted this
week. Something seemed to sayl was
not a Christian, and it made me very
unhappy.”
“What did you do then '.l”
“I prayed thatI might be delivered
from temptation, and then I felt
happy-”
She gave most decided evidence of
being a child of God. Her exercise of
mind and her prayers were like those
of mature Christians.
(b) “REMEMBER TORWOOD.”
—Mr. Kidd, when minister of Queens-
ferry, a few miles from Edinburgh,
was one day very much depressed and
discouraged, for want of that comfort
which is produced by the faith of the
gospel alone. He sent a note to Mr.
L., minister of Culross, a few miles off,
informing him of his distress of mind,
and desiring a visit as soon as possible.
Mr. L. told the servant, he was so busy
that he could not wait upon his master,
but desired him to tell Mr. K. to
remember Torwood! I/Vhen the servant
returned, he said to his master, “Mr.
L. could not come, but he desired me
to tell you, to remember Torwood!”
This answer immediately struck Mr.
K., and he cried out, ‘ Yes, Lord! I

will remember Thee, from the hill
Mizar, and from the Hermonites !” All
his troubles and darkness vanished
upon the recollection of a day which
he had formerly spent in prayer, along
with Mr. L. in Torwood, where he had
enjoyed eminent communion with God.
(c) WORLDLY PROFESSOR’S
DEATH-BED.—Sometimes, says the
late Rev. R. Cecil, in his valuable
“ Remains,” we have a painful part to
do with sincere Christians who have
been going too much into the world. I
was called upon to visit such a man.
“I find no comfort,” said he, “ God
veils his face from me. Every thing
round me is dark and uncertain.” I
did not dare to act the flatterer; I said,
“Let us look faithfully into the state of
things. I should have been surprised
if you had not felt thus. I believe you
to be sincere; your state of feeling
evinces your sincerity. Had I found
you exulting in God, I should have
concluded that you were either deceived
or a deceiver; for, while God acts in
his usual order, how could you expect
to feel otherwise on the approach of
death than you do feel? You have
driven hard after the world ; your spirit
has been absorbed in its cares; your
sentiments, your conversation have been
in the spirit of the world. And have
you any reason to expect the repose of
conscience, and the clear evidence that
awaits the man who has walked and
lived in close friendship with God?
You know that what I say is true.”
His wife here interrupted me, by
assuring me that he had been an excel-
lent man. “Silence!” said the dying
penitent, “ it is all true.”
(cl) JOHNSON’S VISIT TO
WETI-IERELL.-—-The late Rev. Ro-
bert Johnson says, “ In Bishop Wilton
282
DRESS.
116
—-_ __--_- ,_n
lived a good man, named Thomas VVe-
therell, much respected, with whom I
was intimately acquainted about twenty
years ago. I heard that he was ill, and
went to Bishop Wilton to see him. On
my arrival, I said, ‘I am an old friend
come to see you. I was afraid you
would make your escape to heaven be-
fore I had an opportunity.’ He replied,
‘ O, dear I fear I shall never get
there. I have lost my way! I have
lost my way! Oh, what a stumbling-
olock am I now, after enjoying confi-
dence for forty years!’ I answered,
‘ I am very sorry that you have turned
out so bady. I imagine my visit will
not be acceptable. I suppose you have
become very wicked, and fond of tri-
fling, vain, worldly company.’ He im-
mediately rejoined, ‘ Oh, no, no! I can-
not hear them. I cannot bear them.’
I said, ‘I am glad of that; and you
may be sure of this, that the Lord will
not send you to hell among them here-
after, when you so much dislike their
ways and company now.’
“ He was particularly struck with
the manner and language in which I ad-
dressed him. ‘Come,’ said I, ‘let me
have the history of your complaint.’
He proceeded, and said, ‘Some time
ago, I had a paralytic stroke. I was
very ill, but very happy in God. Every
one thought I was dying, and I thought
so myself; and was full of peace and
joy. But, contrary to expectation, I
got so far better as to be able to walk
about, though unable to work. I never
was married; and by frugality and in-
dustryl saved about one hundred pounds.
But it occurred to me that I might live
a considerable time in this debilitated
state; my hundred pounds would soon
be gone ; and I should, after all, become
Qt?)
._-__ -_ _
a burden to my friends. I entered into
a hurtful train of perplexing reasoning,
then of doubt, distrust, and fear. I have
grieved the Spirit of God, and he has
hid his face from me, and I am troubles.
I have lost my confidence in God and
am now in darkness and despair.’
“I remarked, ‘My dear brother, I
clearly see your case. Your mind, as
well as your body, is debilitated, and
the enemy has taken advantage of your
weakness to harass and distress you.
In your present circumstances, you are
not capable of reasoning with him, or of
steadfastly resisting him : he is too cun-
ning for you, and too strong. But lift
up your heart to the Lord; venture tr
look unto Jesus, who will soon bruise
him under your feet who is thus pain-
fully bruising your heel. You are just
like a musical instrument when all its
strings are slackened. If you try to
play, there are only discordant sounds ;
not because it is a bad instrument, but
because it is out of tune.’
“He replied with earnestness, ‘Do
you really think so, sir '2’ ‘ Yes, I
know that it is so. Because you are so
unhinged and slackened in your nerv-
ous system, you are ready to imagine
that the Lord is disaffected towards you,
and that his mercy is clean gone for
ever. But, oh, venture to call upon him
in your trouble and distress; looking
unto Jesus who suffered, being tempted,
and who knoweth how to succor them
that are tempted ; and he will most cer-
tainly deliver you, and you shall praise
him.’
“ VVe then prayed together, and he
was greatly encouraged. In a short
time afterwards he was completely set
at liberty from all his fears, and was
filled with joy and peace in believing.”
146. DRESS.
(a) A GOOD CAUSE FOR W EEP-
NG.—A minister calling to visit a
lady, was detained a long time while
she was dressing. At length she made
her appearance, bedizened in all the
frippery of fashion and folly. The min-
ister was in tears She asked the

cause of his grief; when he replied, “I
weep, madam, to think that an immor-
tal being should spend so much of tha;
precious time, which was given her to
prepare for eternity, in thus vainly
adorning that body which must so soon
become a prey to worms.”
283
146
DRESS.
(Z2) A GOOD RULE.-—A lady
asked the Rev. John Newton, what was
the best rule for female dress and be-
havior. “Madam,” said he, “ so dress
and so conduct yourself, that persons
who have been in your company shall
not recollect what you had on.” This
will generally be the case where singu-
larity of dress is avoided, and where in-
telligence of mind and gentleness of
manners are cultivated.
(c) WA Y TO BANKRUPTCY.
—“ It is a lamentable fact,” says the
author of the ‘ Wife and Mother,’ “that
at the present day, there are hun-
dreds of bankrupts or tradesmen on
the very verge of bankruptcy, or per-
sons of limited income in embarrassed
circumstances, whose difficulties have
originated in the fondness of their wives
for dress and display, and some of these
wives, women professing godliness!
Not very long since, a professional man,
with an income, perhaps of from two to
three hundred a year, on which to sup-
port himself, a wife, and one child, was
arrested for debt. The stir thus occa-
sioned brought to light his general cir-
cumstances, when it appeared, that he
owed about twelve hundred pounds,
more than half that sum being due to
mercers, milliners, and jewellers, for
his wife’s finer .”
(d) TWO EXTREMES OF
PRIDE.—-Diogenes being at Olympia,
saw at the celebrated festival some
young men of Rhodes, arrayed most
magnificently. Smiling, he exclaimed,
“ This is pride.” Afterwards meeting
with so.me Lacedemonians in a mean
and sordid dress, he said, “ And this is
also pride.”
Pride is found at the same opposite
extremes in dress at the present day.
(e) LATHROP AND HIS PA-
RISHIONER.—I was once requested,
says Dr. Lathrop, to preach against pre-
vailing fashions. A remote inhabitant
of the parish, apparently in a serious
frame, called upon me one day, and
pressed the necessity of bearing my tes-
timony against this dangerous evil. I
observed to him, that as my people were
generally farmers in middling circum-
stances, I did not think they took a lead
in fashions; if they followed them, it

0-“
was at an humble distance, and rather
to avoid singularity, than to encourage
extravagance; that as long as people
were in the habit of wearing clothes,
they must have some fashion or other,
and a fashion that answered the ends pf
dress, and exceeded not the ability of
the wearer, I considered as innocent,
and not deserving reproof. To this he
agreed, but said, what grieved him was
to see people set their hearts so much on
fashions. I conceded that as modes of
dress were trifles compared with our
eternal concerns, to set our hearts upon
them must be a great sin. But I ad-
vised him to consider, that to set our
hearts against such trifles, was the same
sin, as to set our hearts upon them, and
as his fashion was different from those
of his neighbors, just in proportion as
he set his heart against theirs, he set his
heart upon his own. He was therefore
doubly guilty of the very sin he im-
puted to others.
) DIFFERENT ADVICE OF
TWO MINISTERS.-—.-A couple of
very gayly dressed ladies being in com-
pany with a clergyman, on his being
informed that they were professed Chris-
tians, were kindly, but very solemnly
reproved by him for their extravagance
in dress. He reminded them that God
had commanded that women adorn them-
selves in modest apparel, with shame-
facedness and sobriety ,' not with broider-
ed hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly ar-
ray, but (which becometh women profess-
ing godliness) with good works; whose
adorning let it not he that outward adorn-
ing ofplaiting the hair, and the wearing
Qf gold, or of PUTTING ON OF AP
PAREL ; but let it he the hidden man
of the heart, in that which is not corrupti-
ble, even the ornament of a MEEK
AND QUIET spirit, which in the sight
of God is of great price. They were
somewhat offended, and with the hope
of quieting their consciences, went to
another clergyman, and asked him, if
he thought there was any harm in their
wearing feathers in their hats, with ar-
tificial flowers, &c., &c. He gravely
replied, “ There is no harm in feathers
and flowers. If you have in your
hearts the ridiculous vanity to wish to be
I thought pretty, you may as well hang
284
GUILT AND FOLLY OF DUELING.
146-148
out the SIGN, and let every one know
what is the rulmg passion of your
heart.” _
(g) SWIFT AND 'IHE PRIN-
TER.—Dean Swift was a regular
enemy to extravagance in dress, and
particularly to that destructive osten-
tation in the middling classes, which
led them to make an appearance above
their condition in life. Of his mode of
reproving this folly in those persons for
whom he had an esteem, the following
instance has been recorded. When
George Faulkner, the printer, returned
from London, where he had been solicit-
ing subscriptions for his edition of the
Dean’s works, he went to pay his re-
spects to him, dressed in a laced waist-
coat, a bag wig and other fopperies.
Swift received him with the same cere-
monies as if he had been a stranger.
“And pray, sir,” said he, “ what are
your commands with me '2” “I thought
it was my duty sir,” replied George,

“ to wait on you immediately on my
arrival from London.” “ Pray, sir, who
are you '2” “George Faulkner the
printer, sir.” “ You George Faulkner
the printer! why you are the most im-
pudent barofaced scoundrel of an im-
poster I have ever met With! George
Faulkner is 0. plain sober citizen, and
would never trick himself out in lace
and other fopperies. Get you gone, you
rascal, I will .\ amediately send you to
the house of correction.” Away went
George as fast as he could, and havmg
changed his dress he returned to the
Deanery, where he was received with
the greatest cordiality. "My friend
George,” says the Dean, “.. am giad
to see you returned safe from London.
Why, here has been an impudent fellow
with me just now dressed in lace waist-
coat, and he would fain pass himself
ofi" for you, but I soon sent him away
with a flea in his ear.”
DUE LING.
147. Guilt of Duelinm
(a) ANNIVERSARY OF A'
DUEL.—lt is related of Lieutenant-
Colonel John Blackader, formerly deputy
governor of Stirling castle, that though
in early life he had been unhappily en-
gaged in a duel, and had killed his an-
tagonist, yet being convinced of its sin-
fulness, he observed the anniversary of
the day with penitence and prayer.
(5) GARDINER’S REPLY TO
A CHALLENGE.——Colonel Gardiner
having received a challenge to fight a
duel, made the following truly noble
and Christian reply: “I fear sinning,
though you know, sir, I do not fear
fighting ;” thus showing his conviction
of a fact too often forgotten, that the
most impressive manifestation of cour-
age is to “ obey God rather than man.”
148. Folly of Dueling.
(a) COBBETT’S RECOMMEN-
l)ATION.—-Cobbett, when chal enged
Q fight, recommended the chal enger

to draw a Cobbett in chalk upon the
floor, and if he succeeded in hitting it,
to send him instant word, in order that
he might have an opportunity of ac
knowledging that, had the true Cobbett
been there, he, in all probability, would
have been hit too. But hit or no hit,
the bullets could have no effect what-
ever, he maintained, on the original
causes of the quarrel.
(Z2) OCCASIONS OF DUELS.-—
Colonel Montgomery was shot in a duel
about a dog; Captain Ramsay in one
about a servant ; Mr. Fetherston in one
about a recruit; Sterne’s father in one
about a goose; and another gentleman
in one about “an acre of anchovies.”
One oificer was challenged for merely
asking his opponent to enjoy the second
goblet ; another was compelled to fight
about a pinch of snuff. General Barry
was challenged by a Captain Smith,
for declining a glass of wine with him
at a dinner in a steamboat, although
the General had pleaded as an excuse
that wine invariably made his stomach
sick at sea; and Lieut. Crowther los.f
‘Z85
l 49
DUELING.

-——_,-—-r
his life in a duel, because he was re-
fused admittance to a club of pigeon
shooters! VVhat contemptible folly in
men it is to risk their lives in order to
settle such trivial disputes as these!
And then how does the result of a duel
really settle the dispute any more than
the result of jumping together from a
precipice, or any similar jeopardy of
life and limb’.2
149. Dueling Avoided.
(gt) ANSWERING A CHAL-
LENGE MATHEMATlCALLY.—
The eccentric mathematician, Professor
Vince, of King’s College, Cambridge,
being once engaged in a conversation
with a gentleman who advocated
dueling,” is said to have thrown his
adversary completely hers du combat,
by the following cute and characteristic
reply to his question: But what could
you do, sir, if a man told you to your
face, “ You lie '2” “ What could I do?
why I wouldn’t knock him down, but I’d
tell him to prove it. Prove it, sir, prove
it, I’d say. If he couldn’t, he’d be the
liar, and there I should have him; but,
if he did prove that I lied, I must e’en
pocket the affront; and there [expect
the matter would end.”
(l2) THE DUELIST OUTWITTED.
——The Rev. J . Cooke, of Maidenhead,
many years ago, published a very in-
teresting pamphlet, contalng the dying
confession of a deist, under the title of,
“Reason paying homage to Revela-
tion.” Soon after its publication, a
great commotion was excited in Maid-
enhead and its neighborhood. The
brother of, the deceased gentleman con-
ceived himself injured, and sent a mes-
sage to Mr. Cooke, demanding the satis-
faction of a gentleman. Mr. C. replied,
“ I am quite prepared to give Mr.
the satisfaction of a Christian gentle-
man; and, according to the laws of
honor, as he has sent the challenge, it
rests with me to choose time, place, and
weapons. I do not choose to fight with
pistols; my weapon is a sword; and if
he will meet me in this parlor to-morrow
at noon, with any witnesses he may de-
sire, I shall be prepared to meet him
with ‘the sword of the Spirit, which is

the word of God.’ My character, my
principles, my oifice, forbid my using
any other weapons.” It need not be
added that his opponent did not admire
this method of meeting the challenge,
and Mr. C. heard no more of him.
(0) MR. SCOTT’S SW ORD-.--The
preaching of the Rev. J. Scott, who
had been a captain in the army, having
been instrumental in the conversion of a
young lady, the daughter of a country
gentleman, her father was greatly offend-
ded, because she would not join in the
usual amusements of their circle.
Looking u on Mr. Scott as the sole
cause of w at he regarded as the me-
lancholy of his daughter, he lay in wait
to shoot him. Mr. Scott, being providen
tially apprised of it, was enabled tn
escape the danger. The diabolical
design of the gentleman being thus de-
feated, he sent Mr. Scott a challenge.
Mr. S. might have availed himself of
the law, and prosecuted him; but he
took another method. He waited upon
him at his house, was introduced to him
in his parlor, and, with his character-
istic boldness and intrepidity, thus ad-
dressed him : “ Sir, I hear that you
have designed to shoot me, by which
you would have been guilty of murder;
failing in this, you have sent me a chal-
lenge. And what a coward must you
be, sir, to Wish to engage with a blind
man !” (alluding to his being short-
sighted). “As you have given me the
challenge, it is now my right to choose
the time, the place, and the weapon; I
therefore, sir, appoint the present mo-
ment, the place where we now are, and
the sword for the weapon, to which
I have been the most accustomed." The
gentleman was evidently greatly terri-
fied; when Mr. Scott, having attained
his end, produced a pocket Bible, and
exclaimed, “ This is my sword, sir ; the
only weapon I wish to engage with.”
“Never,” said Mr. Scott to a friend to
whom he related this anecdote, “ never
was a poor careless sinner so delighted
with the sight of a Bible before I”
Mr. Scott reasoned with the gentle-
man on the impropriety of his conduct,
in treating him as he had done, for no
other reason but because he had preached
the truth. The result was, the gentleman
286
DUELING SUPPRESSED.

—--—
149,150
took him by the hand, begged his par-
don, expressed his sorrow for his con-
duct, and became afterwards very
friendly to him.
(cl) THE STAKES UNEQUAL.-—
Two friends happening to quarrel at a
tavern, one of them, a man of hasty
disposition, insisted that the other should
fight him next morning. The chal-
lenge was accepted on condition that
they should breakfast together at the
house of the person challenged, previous
to their going to the field. \Vhen the
challenger came in the morning, ac-
cording to appointment, he found every
preparation made for breakfast, and his
friend with his wife and children ready to
receive him. Their repast being ended,
and the family withdrawn, without the
least intimation of their purpose having
transpired, the challenger asked the
other if he was ready. “ No, sir,”
said he, “not till we are more on a par ;
that amiable woman, and those six
children, who just now breakfasted with
us, depend, under Providence, on my
life for subsistence, and, until you can
stake something equal in my estimation,
to the welfare of seven persons dearer
to me than the apple of my eye, I can-
not think we are matched.” “ VVe are
not indeed I” replied the other, giving'
him his hand. These two persons be-
came firmer friends than ever.
(e) HUMOROUS REPLY TO A
CHALLENGE.—When the question
for the emblems and devices for the
national arms of the United States,
was before the old Congress, a member
from the South warmly opposed the
eagle as a monarchical bird. The
king of birds could not be a suitable
representative of a people whose insti-
tutions were founded in hostility to
kings. Judge Thatcher, then repre-
sentative from Massachusetts, in reply,
proposed the goose, which he said was
a most humble and republican bird, and
would in other respects prove advanta-
geous, inasmuch as the goslings would
do to put on ten cent pieces, dzc. The
laughter which followed at the expense
of the Southerner was more than he
could bear. He construed the good
humored irony into an insult and sent
a challenge. The bearer delivered it

to Mr. Thatcher, who read and returned
it to him, observing that he should not
accept it I “ I/Vhat, Will you be brand-
ed as a coward Cl” “Yes, sir, if he
pleases; Ialways was a coward, and
he knew it, or he would never have
challenged me.” The joke was too good
to be resisted even by the angry party.
It occasioned infinite mirth in the Con-
gressional circles, and the former cor-
dial and gentlemanly intercourse be-
tween the parties was soon restored in a
manner entirely satisfactory.
150. Dueling Suppressed.
(a) GUSTAVUS AND HIS GEN-
ERAL.——It was in one of the Prussian
campaigns, says Harte, in his Life of
Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden,
that the irrational practice of dueling
rose to such a height in the Swedish
army, not only among persons of rank
and fashion, but even between the
common soldiers, that Gustavus pub-
lished a severe edict, denouncing death
against every delinquent. Soon after
there arose a quarrel between two
officers very high in command, and as
they knew the king’s firmness in pre-
serving his word inviolable, they agreed
to request an audience, and besought
his permission to decide the affair like
men of honor. His majesty repressed
his passion, and under the appearance
of pitying brave men who thought their
reputation injured, he told them, that
though he much blamed their mistaken
notions of fame and glory, yet as this
unreasonable determination appeared to
be the result of deliberate reflection, he
would allow them to decide the affair at
a time and place specified: “ And gen-
tlemen,” said he, “ I myself will be a
witness of your extraordinary valor.”
At the hour appointed, Gustavus arrived
accompanied with a small body of in-
fantry, whom he drew up around the
combatants. Having done this, he
desired them to fight on till one of them
should be killed, and calling the execu-
tioner of the army to him. he ordered
him, the momentone of them fell, to
be ready instantly to behead the survi-
vor. Astonished at such inflexible
firmness, the two generals, after pausing
287
150, 151
EDUCATION OF MINISTERS.

a moment, fell upon their knees, and
asked the king’s forgiveness, who made
them embrace each other, and give
their promise to continue faithful friends
to their last moments ; as they both did
with sincerity and thankfulness.
(Z1) TI-IE EMPEROR’S LETTER.
—-T he following letter against dueling,
written by Joseph, late Emperor of
Germany, was publishedin a collection
of his letters, a few years ago at
Leipsic.
“General ;——-I desire you to arrest
Count K—- and Captain W— immedi-
ately. The count is of an imperious
character, proud of his birth, and full
of false ideas of honor. Captain W—,
who is an old soldier, thinks of settling
every thing by the sword or the pistol.
He has done wrong in accepting a
challenge from the young count. I
will not suffer the practice of dueling
in the army; and I despise the argu-
ments of those who seek to justify it.
Ihave a high esteem for officers who
expose themselves courageously to the
enemy, and who, on all occasions, show
themselves intrepid, valiant, and deter-
mined, in attack as well as defence.
But there are men ready to sacrifice
every thing to a spirit of revenge and
hatred. I despise them; such men, in
my opinion, are worse than the Roman
gladiators. Let a council of war be
summoned to try those two oflicers with

all the impartiality which I de mand
151. EDUCATION
(a) THE PLOUGHBOY AND
THE PRESIDENT.—The president
of a well-known college in Kentucky,
was one morning, while sitting in his
study, astonished by the entrance of a
single visitor.
The visitor was a boy of some seven-
teen years, rough and uncouth in his
appearance, dressed in coarse homespun,
with thick clumsy shoes on his feet, an
old tattered felt hat on his head, sur-
mounting a mass of uncombed hair,
which relieved swarthy and sunburnt
features, marked by eyes quick and
sparkling, but vacant and inexpres-

from every judge, and let the most cul-
pable of the two be made an example
by the rigor of the law. I am resolv-
ed that this barbarous custom, which
is worthy of the age of Tamerlane and
Bajazet, and which is so often fatal to
the peace of families, shall be punished
and suppressed, though it should cost
me half my officers. There will be
still left men who can unite bravery
with the duties of a faithful subject. I
wish for none who do not respect the
laws of the country. J ossrn.”
“Vienna August, 1711.”
(0) THE DUELISTS AND THE
GIBBET.-—-Frederic the Great is said
to have taken the following summary
and very successful method of sup-
pressing dueling in his army :
An officer desired his permission to
fight a duel with a fellow-officer. He
gave his consent, with the understanding
that himself would be a spectator of the
conflict. The hour of meeting arrived,
and the parties repaired to the place of
slaughter. But what was their surprise
to find a gibbet erected upon the spot.
The challenger inquired of Frederic
who was present according to agreement,
what this meant. “I intend,” said he,
sternly, “ to hang the survivor !” This
was enough. The duel was not fought ;
and by this simple but effectual means,
it is said dueling was broken up in the
army of Frederic.
OF MINISTERS.
sive from the want of education. The
whole appearance of the youth was that
of an untaught, uncultivated ploughboy.
The president, an affable and vene-
rable man, inquired into the business of
the person who stood before him.
“ If you please, sir,” said the plough-
boy, with all the hesitaney of an unedu-
cated rustic-——“_f you please, sir, I’d
like to get some larnin’. I heard you
had a college in these parts, and I
thought if I would work a spell for you,
you would help me now and then in
gettin’ an edication.”
“Well, my young friend,” replied ,
288
EDUCATION OF MINISTERS.
151
-_-_ t
.he president, I scarcely see any way
in which you might be useful to us.
The request is something singular.”
“ Why, I can bring water, cut wood,
or black boots,” interrupted the boy,
nis eyes brightening with earnestness.
“I want to get an edication——I want to
make something of myself. I don’t
keer how hard I work, only so as to get
an edication. I want——”
He paused, at a loss for words to ex-
press his ideas, but there was a lan-
guage in the expressive lip, and glanc-
ing eye; there was a language in his
manner-—in the tone in which these
words were spoken, that appealed at
once to the president’s feelings. He
determined to try the sincerity of the
youth. “I am afraid, my young friend,
I can do nothing for you. I would like
to assist you, but I see no way in which
you can be useful to us at present.”
The president resumed his book. In
a moment he glanced at the ploughboy,
who sat silent and mute, holding the
handle of the door. He fingered his
rough hat confusedly with one hand,
his eyes were downcast, and his upper
lip quivered and trembled as though he
were endeavoring to repress strong and
sudden feelings of intense disappoint-
ment. The effort was but half success-
ful. A tear, emerging from the down-
cast eyelid, rolled over the sunburnt
cheek, and with a quick, nervous ac-
tion, the ploughboy raised his toil-har-
dened hand and brushed away the sign
of regret. He made a well-meant but
awkward mark of obeisance, and open-
ing the door, had one foot across the
threshold, when the president called him
back. \
The ploughboy was in a few minutes
hired as a man of all work, and boot-
black to the college.
The next scene which we give the
reader, was in a new and magnificent
church, rich with the beauties of archi-
tecture, and thronged by an immense
crowd, who listened in deathlike still-
ness to the burning eloquence of the
minister of heaven, who delivered the
mission of his Master ‘from the altar.-—
The speaker was a man in the full glow
of middle age--of striking and impres-
sive appearance—piercing and intellec-

tual eye, and high intellectual foxe-
head.
, Every eye is fixed on him—-every lip
hushed, and every ear, with nervous in-
tensity, drinks in the eloquent teaching
of the orator.
Who in all that throng would recog-
nize in the famed, the learned, the ele-
quent president of college, Penn-
sylvania, the humble boot-black of
college, in Kentucky !
(6) THE SCI-IOOLMASTER AND
HIS POOR PUPIL.-—The following
anecdote was related by a gentleman
at Utica, at a meeting of the friends of
education :-—-
In the month of December, 1807, Mr.
Maynard was teaching school in the
town of Plainfield, Ma-ss. One cold
blustering morning, on entering his
school-room, he observed a lad that he
had not seen before, sitting on one of
the benches. The lad soon made known
his errand to Mr. M. He was fifteen
years old; his parents lived seven miles
distant ; he wanted an education ; and
had come from home on foot that morn-
ing, to see if Mr. M. could help him to
contrive how to obtain it.
Mr. M. asked him if he was acquaint-
ed with any one in that place. “ N 0.”
“Can your parents help you towards
obtaining an education ?”
“ N 0.” “ Have you any friends that
can give you assistance?” “ No.”
“ VVell, how do you expect to obtain an
education ?” “ I don’t know, but I
thought I would come and see you.”
Mr. M. told him to stay that day, and
he would see what could be done.
He discovered that the boy was possess-
of good sense, but no unomnnon bril-
liancy, and he was particularly struck
with the cool and resolute manner in
which he undertook to conquer dith-
culties which would have intimidated
weaker minds. In the course of the
day, Mr. M. made provision for having
him boarded through the winter ill the
family with himself, the lad paying for
his board by his services out of school.
He gave himself diligently to study, in
which he made good, but not rapid pro-
ficiency, improving every opportunity of
reading and conversation for acquiring


knowledge, and thus spent the winter
19
289
I51, 152
EDUCATION, RELIGIOUS.
_-. ~-_ -—

Wl1en Mr. M. left the place in the
spring, he engaged a minister who resided
about four miles from the boy’s father,
to hear his recitations ; and the boy ac-
cordingly boarded at home, and pur-
sued his studies. It is unnecessary
to pursue the narrative further. Mr.
M. had never seen the lad since; but
this was the early history of the Rev.
Jonas King, whose exertions in the cause
of oriental learning, and in alleviating
the miseries of Greece, have endeared
him alike to the scholar and philan-
thropist, and shed a bright ray of glory
on his native country.
(c) DR. BACON’S ADVICE.—=-“I
received a most useful hint,” says Ce-
cil, “from Dr. Bacon, then father of the
University, when Iwas at college. I
used frequently to visit him at his living,
near Oxford; he would frequently say
to me, ‘ WVhat are you doing’.Z I/V hat
are your studies?’ ‘I am readin so
and so.’ ‘You are quite wrong. W hen
I was young, I could turn any piece of
Hebrew into Greek verse with ease.
But when I came into this parish, and
had to teach ignorant people, I was
wholly at a loss; I had no furniture.
They thought me a great man, but that
was their ignorance, for I knew as little
as they did, of what it was most impor-
tant for them to know. Study chiefly
what you can turn to good account in
your future life.’ ”
(cl) THE UNKNOWN PREACH-
ER.—The spontaneous preference which
all persons, free from prejudice, are
ready to yield, other things being equal,
to a preacher who has had the advan-
vantages of education, may be illustrat-
ed by the following incident :-
In the vicinity of one of our literary
institutions, where several young Bap-


--*
tist ministers were at their studies, a
church, whose members were violently
prejudiced against colleges and college-
learned ministers, had passed a vote that
they would admit no one from the
neighboring institution into their pulpit
Shortly after this they sent to a minis-
ter then residing near the institution,
whom they did not know, but with
whose preaching they supposed from
information they should be pleased.
The minister agreed to attend and
preach for them, on the day named in
their request. Circumstances, how-
ever, prevented his going in person ; he
therefore engaged a young ministering
brother, who had nearly completed his
studies at the institution of which he was
a member, to go in his stead. This
young brother was unknown to any of
the church. He came to the place at
the hour appointed ; and, with a fluent
and ready utterance, with a warm heart
and fervent spirit, and with a well fur-
nished mind, he delivered his Master’s
message. The members of the church,
who supposed all this while that the
preacher was the individual for whom
they had sent, and who had never been
in a literary institution, were delighted.
Their hearts were opened. They press-
ed him to visit them again, to which he
consented. In the meantime, they as-
certained who their preacher was, that
he was a member of the neighboring
institution. But they had committed
themselves ; he had gained their hearts,
and the approbation of their judgment.
It was the end of their prejudice against
learning in a minister. After this they
were ready to admit and act on the
principle, that learning cannot MAKE a
minister, but that it can greatly increase
his power of being useful.
152. EDUCATION, RELIGIOUS.
ta) A PIOUS FATHER AND HIS
REFRACTORY SON.-—A pious, ten-
der father, asked his refractory son, one
Sabbath morning, if he w s going to at-
tend meeting’.2 The chi d answered,
that he was not. “ Why '2" said his fa-
‘her. “ I have a sore foot,” we the

answer. “ But you shall ride and I
will walk.” The child being resolved
not to go, made many objections, which
the father answered in a similar way;
until the son, no longer able to hide the
opposition of his heart, broke out as fol-
lows :—“I will go, but I will not hear
\
290
EDUCATION, RELIGIOUS.
152
-¢
one word.” He then went away in a
passion. But God, who is mighty in
wisdom, and seeth not as man seeth,
had determined that he should hear.
His sins were set in order before him,
in such a manner, that he was unable
to leave the place without assistance.
He remained several days in great dis-
tress, and then found peace in the blood
of Christ. He is now a preacher of the
gospel which he so much despised.
Those parents who think it will do no
good to urge children to attend public
worship, may derive from this anecdote
a Valuable lesson.
(Z2) FIRST IMPRESSIONS.—A
respectable lady died in 184-5, near Ma-
dison, Wisconsin. She was a native of
Kentucky, and educated a Protestant.
All her family were Protestants. For
seven years previous to her death she
had no intercourse with Roman Catho-
lics. But when death was approaching
she sent a hundred miles for a Catholic
bishop, that she might be received into
communion and die in the Romish
Church. And wherefore’.Z Her feel-
ings were the result of early impressions
received while attending a Catholic
school at Nazanath, Kentucky! Yet
how little many parents think of the
depth and permanency of the impres-
sions made on their infant offspring by
the school-teacher’s instructions or their
own I Of all impressions those are
most enduring which are the earliest.
(0) THE FATHER’S PRAYER.
—Of the family of Mr. C , the fol-
lowing account is given by one of the
sons, at the request of a friend :-—My
father was for many years not only a
member, but a living member, of the
church of Christ. He had ten children.
We were all taught to “ fear God and
Keep his commandments.” “ The Sab-
bath day” was “remembered.” Well
do I recollect, with filial gratitude, how
regularly on the Sabbath we were sum-



moned to take our stand around the
arm-chair of my father, to repeat the
catechism and other religious lcsscas,
and his earnest entreaties that we would
“ remember our Creator in the days of
our youth.” His prayers partook much
of a wrestling spirit; his whole soul
appeared to be in the exercise. I neve1
can forget one request which be pressed
with deep and hearty solicitude: “ O
Lord ! give my chilclrea an interest in
Christ: whatever else as clemiecl them,
deny them not this greatest of all bless.
ings!” In all my profligate wander~
ings that prayer would ring in my ears,
and the image of my praying father
would appear to my imagination; and
now, with deep emotions of gratitude
for God’s abounding grace,I can say,
every one of their children hope in the
mercy of Christ. Two of the sons are
ofiicers of churches 5 and all of us have
as many responsibilities as we can
faithfully discharge both of a civil and
religious character.
(0) NO SCOTCH YVOMAN
THERE.—The Rev. Dr. VVaugh was
enlarging one evening, at a public Sab-
bath school meeting, on the blessings of
education; and, turning to his native
country, Scotland, for proof, told his
auditors the following anecdote :—“At
board-day at the Penitentiary at Mill-
bank, the food of the prisoners was dis-
cussed, and it _was proposed to give
Scotch broth thrice a week. Some of
the governors were not aware what sort
of broth the barley made, and desired to
taste some before they sanctioned the
measure. One of the officers was ac_
cordingly directed to go to the wards
and bring a Scotch woman, competent
to the culinary task, to perform it in the
kitchen. After long delay, the board
supposing the broth was preparing all
the while, the ofiicer returned, and told
their honors that there was no Scotch
woman in the house.”
I53
ELOQUEN CE, SACRED.

153. ELOQUENCE, SACRED.
ta) INDIANS JUDGING MIN-
ISTERS.-—Some years ago, three
American ministers went to preach to
the Cherokee Indians. One preached
very deliberately and coolly; and the
chiefs held a council to know whether
the Great Spirit spoke to them through
that man; and they declared he did
not, because he was not so much en-
gaged as their head men were in their
national concerns. Another spoke to
them in a most vehement manner ; and
they again determined in council that
the Great Spirit did not speak to them
through that man, because he was mad.
The third preached to them in an earn-
est and fervent manner; and they
agreed that the Great Spirit might speak
to them through him, because he was
both earnest and affectionate. The
last was ever after kindly received.
(b) TWO W'AYS OF TELLING
A STORY.——The late Dr. Lathrop, of
VV est Springfield, Mass., related to Mr.
Whitefield a fact which the Dr. had
personally witnessed ; and be related it
without much feeling. The same day
Mr. Vlhitefield introduced the story in-
to his sermon, and Dr. Lathrop as he
heard it found himself drowned in
tears.
(c) ELOQUENCE OF STAUGI-L
TON.—The Rev. Dr. Staughton, of
Philadelphia, was remarkable for the
energy of his delivery, and for the origi-
nality of many of his remarks. On
one occasion, he was preaching from
the words, “God be merciful to me a
sinner.” His soul kindled, as he pro-
ceeded, with intense ardor for the sal-
vation of his assembly. He presented,
in a strain of vivid and powerful elo-
quence, the joy of the angelic hosts on
the repentance of one sinner. Perfect
silence reigned through the vast audi-
ence. There was a moment’s pause,
and it was obvious, f "om his counte-
nance and nis attitude, that his mind
was preparing for some powerful and
overwhelming flood of feeling. He
proceeded! “Shall I retire with the

desponding reflection, that, in all this
congregation, there is not one soul
humbled before God '.l Shall angels
prepare their wings for flight, and the
voice of contrition be unheard '.l It
cannot be. I, will cherish the hope
that there is, at least, one sinner here
whose heart is melted down before the
Lord, and trembling at the prospect of
future retribution ; that there is, even
now, one whose agony is on the point
of extorting from his lips the cry of the
publican. ” Suddenly throwing up
his arm, with a voice full, loud, and
rapid, he exclaimed, “Hark !” The
effect it is impossible to describe. His
arm remained for a time elevated, dur-
ing which the most awful stillness
reigned, interrupted only by an appar-
ently delicate and indescribable breath-
ing, that seemed to pass over the con-
gregation, midway in the edifice.
Then, with a grace and energy pecu-
liar to himself, he brought down his hand
upon his breast, and repeated the pray-
er, “ God be merciful to me a sinner.”
The feelings of the assembly were
wrought to the highest point, and some
time elapsed before they were enabled
to breathe freely.
(fl) MASSlLLON’S PREACHING.
——-When Massillon preached the first
Advent sermon at Marseilles, Louis the
XlVth paid a most expressive tribute
to his eloquence :—“ Father, when I
hear others reach, I am very well
pleased with ham; when I hear you, I
am dissatisfied with myself.”
The first time this great preacher de-
livered his sermon on the small number
of the elect, the whole audience were, in
one part of it, in so violent a stale of
emotion, that almost every person half
rose from his seat, as if to shake ofl‘
the horror of being one of those that
would be cast out into everlasting dark-
ness. So remarkably were all his
strokes aimed at the heart.
YVhen Baron, the actor, came from
hearing one of Massillon’s sermons, he
said to a person of the same profession,
292
ELOQUENCE, SACRED.
153
—-
who accompanied him, “Here is an
orator ; we are oily actors.”
(e) QUITE DIFFERENT
PREACI-IERS.-—The different effects
produced by pulpit eloquence are well
described by the following anecdote of
two French preachers. Le Pere Arrius
said, “When Le Pere Bourdaloue
preached at Rouen, the tradesmen for-
sook their shops, lawyers their clients,
physicians their sick, and tavern-keepers
their bars; but, when I preached the fol-
lowing year, I set all thing to rights—-
every man minded his own business!”
PREACHING AS IN THE
PRESENCE OF GOD.—The emi-
nence of the Rev. Mr. Brown, of Had-
dington, both as a preacher and a writer,
is well known.’ On a public occasion,
where a man whorprofessed the princi-
ples of infidelity was present, two ser-
mons were delivered: the first of them
by an ambitious young man, who de-
livered a very eloquent and florid
address; Mr. Brown followed, in one
equally remarkable for its simplicity
and earnestness. “ The first preacher,”
said the skeptic to one of his friends,
“spoke as if he did not believe what
he said; the latter, as if he was con-
scious that the Son of God stood at his
elbow.” '
) NEWTON’S TRIBUTE TO
WHITEFIELD.——In a company of
noblemen and gentlemen, at breakfast,
Mr. VI/‘hitefield having become the sub-
ject of conversation, one of the company
asked the Rev. John Newton, who was
present, if he knew Mr. VVhitefield.
He answered in the affirmative, and ob-
served, that as a preacher, Mr. White-
field far exceeded every other man of
his time. Mr. Newton added, “I bless
God that I lived in his time; many
were the winter mornings I got up at
four, to attend his tabernacle discourses
at five; and I have seen Moorfields as
full of lanterns at these times, as I sup-
pose the Maymarket is full of flam-
beaux 011 an opera night.” As a proof
of the power of Mr. \V.’s preaching,
Mr. Newton mentioned, that an officer
at Glasgow, who had heard him preach,
laid a wager with another, that at a cer-
tain charity sermon, though he went
with prejudice, he would be compelled

to give something; the other to make
sure that he would not, laid all the
money out of his pockets; but, before
he left the church, he was glad to bor-
row some, and lose his bet. Mr. New
ton mentioned, as another striking ex-
ample of Mr. \Vhitefield’s persuasive
oratory, his collecting at one sermon
£600 for the inhabitants of an obscure
village in Germany, that had been
burned down. After sermon, Mr
Whitefield said, IVe shall sing a
hymn, during which those who do not
choose to give their mite on this awful
occasion, may sneak off.” Not one
moved; he got down from the pulpit,
ordered all the doors to be shut but one,
at which he held the plate himself, and
collected the above large sum. Mr.
Newton related what he knew to be a
fact, that at the time of VVlntefleld’s
greatest persecution, when obliged to
preach in the streets, in one week he
received not fewer than a thousand let-
ters from persons distressed in their
consciences by the energy of his preach-
1110".
‘°(h) HUME’S TRIBUTE TO
WHITEFI ELD. —- An extraordinary
attestation to the excellence of Mr.
I/Vhitefield, as a preacher, was furnish-
ed by Hume. the historian, well known
for his infidelity. An intimate friend
having asked him what he thought of
Mr. I/Vhitefield’s preaching, “ He is,
sir,” said Mr. Hume, “the most ingenious
preacher I ever heard : it is worth while
to go twenty miles to hear him.” He
then repeated the following passage,
which occurred towards the close of the
discourse he had been hearing: “ After
a solemn pause, Mr. \Vhitefield thus
addressed his numerous audience :——-
‘The attendant angel is just about to
leave the threshold, and ascend to hea-
ven. And shall he ascend, and not
bear with him the news of one sinner,
among all this multitude, reclaimed
from the error of his ways ‘Z’ To give
the greater effect to this exclamation,
he stamped with his foot, lifted up his eyes
and hands to heaven, and with gushing
tears, cried aloud, ‘Stop, Gabriel!
Stop, Gabriel ! Stop, ere you enter the
sacred portals, and yet carry with you
the news of one sinner converted to
293
153
ELOQUENCE, SACRED.

God.’ He then, in the most simple,
but energetic language, described what
he called a Savior’s dying love to sin-
ful man, so that almost the whole as-
sembly melted into tears. This address
was accompanied with such animated,
yet natural action, that it surpassed
any thingl ever saw or heard in any
other preacher.”
Happy had it been for Mr. Hume, if,
in addition to his admiration of the
preacher, he had received the doctrine
which he taught, and afforded an in-
stance of that conversion to God which
Mr. Vi/hitefield so ardently longed for
on behalf of his hearers.
(i) FRANKLlN’S TRIBUTE TO
\VHITEFlELD.—The following anec-
dote, related by Dr. Franklin, which is
equally characteristic of the preacher
and himself; further illustrates the
power of Mr. WVhitefield’s eloquence :-
“I happened,” says the doctor, “to at-
tend one of his sermons, in the course
of which I perceived he intended to
finish with a collection, and I silently
resolved he should get nothing from me.
I had in my pocket a handful of copper
money, three or four silver dollars, and
five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded,
I began to soften, and concluded to give
the copper. Another stroke of his
oratory made me ashamed of that, and
determined me to give the silver; and
he finished so admirably, thatl emptied
my pocket wholly into the collector’s
dish,—gold and all. At this sermon
there was also one of our club; who,
being of my sentiments respecting the
building in Georgia, and suspecting a col-
lection might be intended, had, by pre-
caution, emptied his pockets before he
came from home. Towards the conclu-
sion of the discourse, however, he felt a
strong inclination to give, and applied to a
neighbor, who stood near him, to lend
him some money for the purpose. The
request was made to, perhaps, the only
man in the company who had the cold-
ness not to be affected by the preacher.
His answer was, “At any other time,
friend I-Iodgkinson, I would lend to thee
freely; but not now, for thee seems to
be out of thy right senses.”
( SCULPTOR’S OPINION OF
WHITEFIELD.—-A baronet was one

M
day examining some works of the cele-
brated sculptor, Mr. Bacon, and observul
a bust of Mr. Whitefield among them,
which led him to remark, “After al‘
that has been said, this was truly a great
man ; he was the founder of a new reh-
gion.” “A new religion, sir I” replied
Mr. B. “ Yes,” said the baronet ;
“ what do you call it '2” “ Nothing,”
was the reply, “ but the old religion re-
vived with new energy, and treated as
if the preacher meant what he said.”
(It) THE BROKEN HEART.-—
When Whitefield was preaching at Ex-
eter, a man was present who had loaded
his pockets with stones, in order to fling
them at that precious ambassador of
Christ. He heard his prayer, however,
with patience ; but no sooner had he
named his text, than the man pulled a
stone out of his pocket and held it in his
hand waiting for a fair opportunity to
throw. But God sent a sword to his
heart, and the stone dropped from his
hand. After sermon he went to Mr. W.
and told him, “ Sir, I came to hear you
this day with a view to break your head,
but the spirit of the Lord, through your
ministry, has given me a broken heart.”
The man proved to be a sound convert,
and lived to be an ornament to the Gos-
el.
P (Z) THE SHIPBUILDER’S OPIN.
ION OF WHITEFIELD.-— A ship.
builder was once asked what he thought
of Mr. Whitefield. “Think!” he re-
plied; “I tell you, sir, every Sunday
that I go to my parish church, I can
build a ship from stem to stern under
the sermon ; but were I to save my soul,
under Mr. VV. I could not lay a single
lank.”
(m) THE BLIND MINISTER.-—
“I was one Sunday travelling through
the county of Orange, on the eastern
side of the Blue Ridge,” says Wirt, in
his British Spy, “ when my eye was
caught by a cluster of horses tied near
a ruinous wooden house, in the forest,
not far from the roadside. Having fre-
quently seen such objects before, I has
no difficulty in understanding that this
was a place of religious worship. Curi-
osity to hear the preacher of such a wil-
derness induced me to jom the congre-
gatior On my entrance, I Was struck
294
NATURE OF LOVE TO ENEMIES.
153, 154

with his supernatural appearance. He
was a tall and very spare old man; his
head, which was covered with a white
linen cap, his shrivelled hands, and his
voice, were all shaking under the influ-
ence of palsy; and a few moments as-
certained to me that he was perfectly
blind. It was the day of the sacrament
--—his subject was the passion of our Sa-
vior; and he gave it a new and more
sublime pathos than I had ever before
witnessed. When he descended from
the pulpit to distribute the mystic sym-
bols, there was a peculiar, a more than
human solemnity in his voice and man-
ner, which made my blood run cold, and
my whole frame shiver. His peculiar
phrases had that force of description,
that the original scene seemed acting
before our eyes. ‘We saw the very
faces of the Jews ; the staring, frightful
distortions of malice and of rage. But
When he came to touch on the patience,
me forgiving meekness of our Savior;
when he drew to the life his blessed eyes
streaming with tears, his voice breathing
to God the gentle prayer, ‘ Father, for-
give them, for they know not what they
do,’--the voice of the preacher, which
had all along f-altered, grew fainter and
fainter, until his voice being entirely
obstructed by the force of his feelings,
he raised his handkerchief to his eyes,
and burst into a loud and irrepressible
flood of grief. The effect was incon-
ceivable. The whole house resounded
with mingled groans, and sobs, and
shrieks. I could not imagine how the
speaker could let his audience down
from the height to which he had wound
them, without impairing the solemnity
of his subject, or shocking them by the
EN EMIES,
154. Nature of Love to Ellemies.
(a) THE HAND OF THE AVEN-
GER STAYED.-—The following inci-
dent is taken from the diary of Hans
Egede Saabye, a grandson of the cele-
brated Hans Egede, first missionaryto
Greenland.

abruptness of his fall. But the descent
was as beautiful and sublime as the ele
vation had been rapid and enthusiastic.
The tumult of feeling subsided, and a
death-like stillness reigned throughout
the house, when the aged man removed
his handkerchief from his eyes, still wet
with the torrent of his tears, and slowly
stretching forth his palsied hand, he ex-
claimed, ‘Socrates died like a philoso-
pher,’—-then pausing, clasping his hands
with fervor to his heart, lifting his ‘ sight-
less balls’ to heaven, and pouring his
whole soul into his tremulous voice, he
continued—-‘ but Jesus Christ died like
a God.’ Had he teen an angel of light,
the effect could have scarcely been more
divine.”
(n) FLETCHER’S APPEAL. ——-
When the Rev. J. \/V. Fletcher, of
Madeley, was once preaching on Noah
as a type of Christ, and while in the
midst of a most animated description of
the terrible day of the Lord, he suddenly
paused. Every feature of his expres-
sive countenance was marked with pain-
ful feeling; and, striking his forehead
with the palm of his hand, he exclaimed,
“ Wretched man that I am! Beloved
brethren, it often cuts me to the soul, as
it does at this moment, to reflect, tha.
while I have been endeavoring, by the
force of truth, by the beauty of holiness,
and even by the terrors of the Lord, to
bring you to walk in the peaceable paths
of righteousness, I am, with respect to
many of you who reject the gospel, only
tying mill-stones round your neck, to
sink you deeper in perdition!” The
whole church was electrified, and it
was some time before he could resume
his discourse.
LOVE TO.
\ It has ever been a fixed law in Green-
land, that murder, and particularly the
murder of a father, must be avenged.
About twenty years before the arrival
of Saabye, a father had been murdered
in the presence of his son, a lad of
thirteen, in a most atrocious manner.
The boy was not able then to avenge the
295
15-1
LOVE TC .
ENEMIES,
“-4-, -—-

crime, but the murderer was not for-
gotten. He left that part of the coun-
try, and kept the flame burning in his
bosom, no suitable opportunity offering
for revenge, as the man was high in in-
fluence, and many near to defend him.
At length his plan was laid, and with
some of his relations to assist him, he
returned to the province of the murder-
er, who lived near the house of Saa-
bye; there being no house unoccupied
where they might remain, but one owned
by Saabye, they requested it, and it
was granted, without any remark, al-
though he knew the object of their
coming. '
The son soon became interested in the
kind missionary, and often visited his
cabin, giving as his reason, “You are
so arniable I cannot keep away from
you.” Two or three weeks after, he
requested to know more of “ the great
Lord of Heaven,” of whom Saabye had
spoken. His request was cheerfully
granted. Soon it appeared that himself
and all his relatives, were desirous of
instruction, and ere long, the son re-
quested baptism. To this request the
missionary answered : “ Kunnuk”—for
that was his name-—-“ you know God :
you know that he is good, that he loves
you, and desires to make you happy:
but he desires also that you should obey
him.”
Kunnuk answered ; “I love him, I
will obey him.”
“His command is, ‘ Thou shalt not
murder.’ ” The poor Greenlander was
much affected, and silent. “I know,”
said the missionary. “ why you have
come here WIII1 your relations, but this
you must not do, if you wish to become
a believer.”
Agitated, he answered, “ But he mur-
dered my father I’ ’
For a long time the missionary press-
ed this point, the poor awakened heathen
promising to “kill only one.” But this
was not enough. “Thou shalt do no
murder,” Saabye insisted was the com-
mand of the Great Lord of heaven.
I-Ie exhorted him to leave the murderer
in the hand of God to be punished in
another world: but this was waiting too
long for revenge. The missionary re-
fused him baptism, without obedience to


He retired to consult
They urged him to re-
the command.
his friends.
venge.
Saabye visited him, and without refer-
ring to the subject, read those portions
of Scripture and hymns teaching a quiet
and forgiving temper. Some days after
Kunnuk came again to the cabin oi
Saabye. “I will,” said he, “and
will not ; I hear, and I do not hear. 1
never felt so before ; I will forgive him,
and I will not forgive him.” The mis-
sionary told him, “ VVhen he would for-
give, then his better spirit spoke ; when
he would not forgive, then his uncon-
verted heart spoke.” He then repeated
to him the latter part of the life of
Jesus, and his prayer for his murderers.
A tear stood in his eye. “ But he was
better than I,” said Kunnuk. “But
God will give us strength,” Saabye
answered. He then read the martyr-
dom of Stephen, and his dying prayer
for his enemies. Kunnuk dried his
eyes and said, “ The wicked men I-—He
is happy; he is certainly with God in
heaven. My heart is so moved; but
give me a little time; when I have
brought the other heart to silence, I will
come again.” He soon returned with
a smiling countenance, saying, “ N owI
am happy; I hate no more ; I have for-
given; my wicked heart shall be
silent.” He and his wife, having made
a clear profession of faith in Christ,
were baptized and received into the
church. Soon after, he sent the follow-
ing note to the murderer of his father :
“I am now a believer, and you have
nothing to fear,” and invited him to
his house. The man came, and in-
vited Kunnuk in his turn to visit him.
Contrary to the advice of friends,
Kunnuk went, and, as he was returning
home, he found a hole had been cut in
his kajak (or boat) in order that he
might be drowned. Kunnuk stepped
out of the water, saying, “He is still
afraid, though I will not harm him I”
What a noble example of self-con-
questl What an illustrious exhibition
of the power of the gospel I
(b) THE MISSIONARY ASSAIL-
ED.-Not many years ago, a missionary
was preaching in a chapel to a crowd
of idol-loving Hindoos. He had not
/
296
BLESSIN G ENEMIES.
I54, 155

proceeded far in his sermon, when he was
interrupted by a strong native, who went
behind the desk, intending to knock him
down with his stick. Happily, the blow
aimed at the minister fell on his shoulder
and did him little, if any, injury. The
congregation of hearers was, however,
very angry with the offender; and they
seized him at the very moment he was
attempting his escape. “ Now, what
shall I do with him '2” said the mission-
ary to the people. “What shall I do
to him '2” “ Give him a good beating,”
answered some. “I cannot do that,”
said he. “Send him to the Judge,”
cried others ; “ and he will receive two
years’ hard labor on the road.” “ I
cannot follow your advice,” said the
missionary again ; “ and I will tell you
why. My religion commands me to
love my enemies, and to do good to
them who treat me inj uriously.” Then,
turning to the culprit, he addressed him
in these words : “ I forgive you from my
heart; but never forget that you owe
your escape from punishment to that
Jesus whom you persecuted in me.”
The effect of this scene on the Hin-
doos was most impressive. They saw
it and marvelled; and, unable any
longer to keep silence, they sprang on
their feet, and shouted, “ Victory to
Jesus Christ l” “ Victory to Jesus
Christ I”
(c) LINKS AND THE MURDER-
ER.—Peter Links, a Namacqua, was
the brother of Jacob Links, who was
murdered when on a journey into the
country with Mr. Threlfall, the Wes-
leyan missionary. After we heard of
his brother J acob’s murder, Peter, when
speaking on the subject, said, “ Oh that
I could find the murderer who took away
my brother’s life! I would not care
what distance I might have to travel ; I
would not mind any exposure, fatigue,
or danger; I would not care what ex-
pense I might incur, if I could only lay
mid of that man.” Being aware that
men in their savage state cherish an in-
domitable spirit of revenge, but believing
Peter to be a decidedly pious character,
I was a little astonished at his language,
and rather hastily inquired, “ I/Vell, sup-
posing you could find the man, what
\\ ould you do to him ?” “ Do to him '2”


said Peter; “Mynheer, I would bring
him to this station, that he might hear
the gospel, and that his soul might be
converted to God.”
EXHIBITIONS OF LOVE TO ENEMIES.
lit. Blessing Enemies
(a, MUNMOTH AND THE PA-
PlST.—-Bishop Latimer tells us, in his
seventh sermon on the Lord’s prayer, of
a rich man* who had a poor neighbor,
whom he treated verv kindly. But the
alderman became a Protestant and his
poor friend became his enemy. Indeed,
the poor man would not vouchsafe to
speak to him: if he met the rich man
in the street, he would 0 out of his way.
“ One time it happene that he met him
in so narrow a street that he could not
shun him, but must come near him ; yet
for all this, this poor man was minded to
go forward, and not to speak with him.
he rich man perceiving that, caught
him by the hand, and asked him, say-
ing, ‘ Neighbor, what is come into your
heart, to take such displeasure with me ".3
what have I done against you? tell me, ‘
and I will be ready at all times to make
you amends.’
“ Finally, he spoke so gently, so chart-
tably, and friendly, that it wrought in
the poor man’s heart, so that by and by
he fell down upon his knees, and asked
his forgiveness. The rich man forgave
him, and took him again into his favor,
and they loved each other as well as
ever they did before. Many a one would
have said, Set him in the stocks, let him
have bread of afliiction, and water of
tribulation; but this man did not so.
And here you see an example of the
practice of God’s words ; so that the
poor man, bearing great hatred and
malice against the rich man, was
brought, through the lenity and meek-
ness of the rich man, from his error
and wickedness, to the knowledge of
God’s word. I would that you would
consider this example well, and fol-
low it.”
(Z2) NARDIN AND HIS ENEMIES.
—-This excellent pastor of the church
* The rich man here spoken of was Humphrey
Munmoth, sheriff and alderman of London.
297
I55, 156
LOVE T0.
EN EMIES,

of Blamont, was so little affected by the
unjust proceedings and outrageous con-
duct to which he was exposed, that the
remembrance of it was soon effaced
from his mind. If he ever felt any
thing like a desire to be avenged, no-
thing of the kind appeared in the case
about to be related. Some time after
he had been restored to the ministry,
and re-established at Blamont, the in-
tendant of Besancon repaired to_ the
town, and immediately requested to see
Mr. N ardin. The latter having com-
plied with his invitation, the other said
to him, among several complimentary
speeches, “ Well, Mr. Nardin, you see
yourself well avenged. You ought to
be satisfied that your two adversa-
ries, who labored to make you end your
days in the dungeons of the mighty
Grison, have been shut up there them-
selves, whilst you have been pronounced
innocent.” The two persons, indeed,
who were most cruelly bent on his de-
struction, were for some time under con-
finement in the prisons of Besancon;
one as a dealer in contraband commodi-
ties, and the other for disturbing certain
rights claimed by the Roman Catholics.
Mr. Nardin, feeling himself but little
flattered by this compliment, replied, in
a soft but unhesitating tone, “ My reli-
gion, my lord, does not permit me to
rejoice in the misfortunes of my ene-
mies. I pity them; and wish that a
wiser conduct may shelter them from
such punishments.”
(c) BRUEN AND HIS ENEMY.—-
A gentleman once sent his servant to
John Bruen, Esq., of Bruen, requesting
him never to set a foot upon his ground ;
to whom he sent this reply: “If it
please your master to walk upon my
grounds, he shall be very welcome;
but if he please to come to my house,
he shall be still more welcome.” By
thus heaping coals of fire upon his head,
he melted him down into love and ten-
derness, and made him his cordial
friend.
1663 Doing Good to Enemies.
(a) THE UNRULY CATTLE.-
The horse of a pious man living in Mas-
sachusetts, happening to stray into the

'-__“
road, a neighbor of the man who owned
the horse put him into the pound. Meet-
ing the owner soon after, he told hirr
what he had done; “ and ifl catch him
in the road again,” said he, “ I’ll do it
again.” “ Neighbor,” replied the other,
“ not long since, I looked out of my
window in the night, and saw your cat-
tle in my meadow, and I drove them
out and shut them in your yard; and
I’ll do it again.” Struck with the re-
ply, the man liberated the horse from
the pound, and paid the charges him-
self. “A soft answer turneth away
wrath.”
(Z2) THE PRINCESS AND THE
WARRIOR.—-The Bechuanas of South
Africa are divided into many different
nations or tribes. Two of these nations
carried on war for some years, each
side trying to kill every man, woman
and child of the other nation, and pracf
ticing cruelties too horrid for children
to hear. The name of the one nation
was Barolong, and that of the other
Bakueni, or People of the Crocodile.
One day the daughter of the Chief
of the Bakueni was gathering berries by
the river side; she was some way from
her father’s village, and all alone ; she
did not think that any enemy was near,
but there was a wicked old warrior of
the Barolong nation, creeping along the
borders as a spy, and he saw her. She
had never done him any harm, but he
hated her because she was one of the
Bakueni. He crept like a coward upon
his hands and knees, and when he was
within a few steps of her, he sprang
upon her like a tiger, and with his as-
segai cut off both her hands above the
wrists. He mocked at her sufferings,
and tauntingly asked, “U tla ’mpona
kai'2 Rumela!” “V_Vhere shall you
see me again’.2 I salute you.” The
cries of the poor bleeding girl soon
brought her friends from the village,
but the wicked old man made off with
all speed, and he was far enough away
before they reached her. There was
no surgeon at hand to dress her wound-
ed arms,'so whether she died from pain
and loss of blood or not, remains to be
told.
At length both nations suffered so
dreadfully from war and famine, the
' 298
156 DOING GOOD
TO ENEMIES.

fney Wished to make peace. They
killed some cattle, and sat down to eat
together, and thus made a treaty of
peace. Next season the Bakueni had
an abundant crop of corn, but the Baro-
longs were in great distress. Swarms
of locusts ate up the produce of their
fields and gardens, and they were ob-
liged to beg food from the people they
once meant to destroy.
Among others the old warrior suffer-
ed extremely, and he set out on a
journey to the Bakueni, in order to save
his life. He had a little bag containing
a little meal, made from pounded lo-
custs. It was all he could get to eat on
his way. He took a pipe and tobacco
also, and a walking-stick in his hand,
but he was nearly starved, and so weak
and thin, that he could not get on fast.
He reached the village of the Chief of
the Bakueni, and entered the enclosure
before the door of the Chief ’s house.
A young woman was sitting near the
door. She was dressed in a tiger-skin
kaross, which none but the mcfiunagari,
or “royal mistress,” may wear. The
old man addressed his petition to her in
the most humble words, and begged her
to give him, a poor dog, a little food, as
he was dying of hunger. She answer-‘
ed him, “E! U tla ’mpona kai’.2 Ru-
mela !” The old man was stupified
by hunger, and did not remember the
words.
A servant was cooking food while this
was going on. Her mistress turned to
her and told her to put some into a dish ;
then throwing back her kaross, she un-
covered her arms. There were no
hands, only stumps left. She was the
very girl whose hands this same wicked
old man had cut off so long before!
She said to her servant, “ Give the
food to that man ; he does not deserve
it. It was he who cut off my hands
when I was a girl; but I will not re-
venge myself; he is now starving. He
little thought that we should thus meet
each other.” Then speaking to the old
warrior, she said, “There; take and
eat! U tla ’mpona kai? Rumela!”
What the old man felt, it would be dif-
ficult to say. The generous conduct
of the Chief ’s daughter has never been
forgotten by the Ba.rolong nation. To

this day, one of them may be kept from
an unkind action by the oppressed
party exclaiming, “ U tla ’mpona ka1?
Rumela!”
(0) SOUTHEY AND THE
BLACK BOY.-—Acts of kindness and
soft words have an irresistible power,
even over an enemy. “When Iwas
a small boy,” says Southey, “there
was a black boy in the neighborhood-,
by the name of Jim Dick. I and a num-
ber of my playfellows were one even-
ing collected together at our sports, and
began tormenting the poor black, by
calling him ‘negro, blackamoor,’ and
other degrading epithets: the poor fel-
low appeared excessively grieved at our
conduct, and soon left us. We soon
after made an appointment to go a skat-
ing in the neighborhood, and on the day
of the appointmentl had the misfortune
to break my skates, and I could not go
without borrowing J in1’s skates. I went
to him and asked him for them. ‘O
yes, John, you may have them, and
welcome,7 was his answer. VV hen I
went to return them, I found Jim sitting
by the fire in the kitchen, reading the
Bible. I told him I had returned his
sk .xl.€S, and was under great obligations
to nim for his kindness. He looked at
me as he took his skates, and, with
tears in his eyes, said to me, ‘John,
don’ t never call me blackamoor again,’
and immediately left the room. The
words pierced my heart, and I burst
into tears, and from that time resolved
never again to abuse a poor black.”
(at) THE SLAVE’S CONDUCT
EXPLAlNED.——A slave in one of the
West India Islands, originally from
Africa, having been brought under the
influence of religious instruction, be-
came so valuable to his owner on ac-
count of his integrity and general good
conduct, that his master employed him
to assist in the management of nis
plantation. On one occasion, his owner
wishing to purchase twenty additional
slaves, employed him to make the se-
lection from those who were offered for
sale. Soon after commencing his ex-
amination of those who were in the
market, he fixed his eye intently on an
old decrepit slave, and told his master
he must take him for one. The maste~
299
ENEMIES,
IOVE 'IO. [56
-.-_--~u¢-as

was greatly surprised, and objected, but
the slave entreated so earnestly, for this
indulgence, that the offer of the seller
to add the old man to the twenty, with-
out increasing the price, Was accepted.
The newly purchased slaves were con-
ducted to the plantation and placed under
the charge of the slave, who had made
the selection. On the poor old decrepit
African he bestowed uncommon care.
He took him to his own habitation, and
laid him down on his own bed ; he fed
him at his own table, and _gave him
drink out of his own cup ; when he was
cold he carried him into the sunshine ;
and when he was hot he placed him
under the shade of the cocoanut trees.
The master, astonished at the careful
attention bestowed by him upon his fel-
low slave, interrogated him on the sub-
ject. “Is that old man,” said he,
“ your father, that you take so much
interest in him ?” “No, massa,” an-
swered the poor fellow, “he no my
fader.” “Perhaps then, he is your
elder brother?” “No, massa, he no
my broder.” “ Then he must be your
uncle or some other relation.” “ No,
massa, he be no of my kindred at all;
he be no my friend.”
“ Why then do you bestow on him so
much care and attention?” “Oh,
massa,” replied the slave, “he be my
old enemy; he sold me to the slave-
dealer, and my Bible tell me to love
my enemy ; when he hunger, feed him,
when he thirst, give him drink, and so
me only do what my Bible tell me.”
(e) THE CHEROKEE WOMEN
AND THE OSAGES.—-A few poor
Cherokee women, who had been con-
verted to Christianity, formed them-
selves into a society for the propagation
of the gospel, which was now become
so dear to them. The produce of the
first year was about ten dollars, and
the question was-——to what immediate
object this should be applied? At
length, a poor woman proposed that it
should be given to promote the circu-
lation of the gospel in the Osage nation ;
‘For,” said she, “the Bible tells us
to do good ts our enemies, Matt. 5: 44 ;
and I believe the Osages are the great-
est enemies the Cherokees have.”
THE SHIPWVRECKED SPAN.
.ARDS.—After the dispersion of the
Spanish Armada in 1588, Joan Lomes
de Medina, whe had been general of
twenty hulks, was, with about two
hundred and sixty men, driven in a
vessel to Anstruther in Scotland, after
suffering great hunger and cold for six
or seven days. Notwithstanding the
object for which this fleet had been sent,
and the oppressive conduct of the Span-
iards to the Scottish merchants who
traded with them, these men were hu-
manely treated. Mr. James Melvil,
the minister, told the Spanish officer
first sent on shore, that they would find
nothing among them but Christie. ity
and works of mercy. The laird of An-
struther, and a great number of the
neighboring gentlemen, entertained the
officers; and the inhabitants gave the
. . . /
soldiers and manners ka1l, pottage,
and fish ;--the minister having ad-
dressed his flock, as Elisha did the
King of Israel in Samaria, “ Give them
bread and water.”
IF THINE ENEMY HUN.
GER FEED HIM.—During the per-
secuting times in England, two persons
from Bedford went early one morning
to the house of a pious man, who rented
a farm in the parish of Keysoe, with the
intention of apprehending and imprison-
ing him in Bedford jail for non-confor-
mity. The good man knew their in-
tention, and desired his wife to prepare
breakfast, at the same time kindly in-
viting his visitors to partake with them.
In asking a blessing or in returning
thanks for the food, he pronounced em
phatically these words, “ If thine enem)
hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give
him drink ;” by which means the hearts
of his persecutors were so far softened
that they went away without taking him
into custody.
(h) PROFITING BY READING
THE BlBLE.——A very little girl, who
often read her Bible, gave proof that
she understood her obligation to obey
its precepts. One day, she came to
her mother, much pleased, to show her
some fruit which had been given to her.
The mother said the friend was very
kind, and had given her a great many.
“Yes,” said the child, “very indeed;
300
PRAYING FOR ENEMIES.
156» 157

and she gave me more than these, but
I have given some away.” The mother
inquired to whom she had given them ;
When she answered, “I gave them to a
girl who pushes me off the path, and
makes faces at me.” On being asked
whv she gave them to her, she replied,
“ Because I thought it would make her
know that I wish to be kind to her, and
she will not, herhaps, be rude and un-
kind to me again.” How admirably
did she thus obey -the command to
“ nvercome evil with good I”
(2') DR. MATI-IER’S AMBITION.
—It was the laudable ambition of Cot-
ton Mather to say, “He did not know
of any person in the world who had
done him any ill office but he had done
him a good one for it.” ‘
(j) EXAMPLE OF REV. JOHN
BRO‘/VN.——The Rev. Mr. Brown of
Haddington manifested a singular readi-
ness to forgive his enemies. Notwith-
standing the abuse he received from
some ministers, when a student, it was
remarked, that he was never heard to
speak evil of them, nor so much as to
mention the affair. A dissenting cler-
gyman, who had used him rudely, be-
ing reduced to poverty, he sent him
money, and in a way which concealed
the benefactor.
decease, he offered to take one of his
destitute orphans, and bring him up
with his own children. To certain
writers who reviled him from the press,
he meekly replied, “But now that the
fact is committed, instead of intending
to resent the injury these reverend
brethren have done me, I reckon my-
self, on account thereof, so much the
more effectually obliged, by the Chris-
tian law, to contribute my utmost en-
deavors towards the advancement of
their welfare, spiritual or temporal, and
am resolved, through grace, to discharge
these obligations, as Providence gives
me opportunity, for the same. Let
them do to, or with me, what they w.‘l.
may their portion be redemption through
the blood of Jesus, even the forgiveness
of sins according to the riches of his
grace; and call me what they please,
may the Lord call them, “The holy
people, the redeemed of the Lord.”
After the clergyman’s'

167. Praying for Enemies.
(a) JAMES THE LESS AND THE
PI-IARISEES.—About the year A. D.
63, when F estus was dead and Albinus
had not come to succeed him, the Jews,
being exceedingly enraged at the suc-
cess of the gospel, Annanus, son of An-
nas, it is said, ordered James to ascend
one of the galleries of the temple, and
inform the people that they had, with-
out ground, believed Jesus of Nazareth
to be the Messiah. He got up and cried
with a loud voice that Jesus was the
Son of God, and would quickly appear
in the clouds to judge the world. Many
glorified God and believed ; but the
Pharisees threw him over the battle-
ment. He was sorely bruised, but got
upon his knees and prayed for his mur-
derers amid a shower of stones which
they cast at him, till one of them beat
out his brains with a fuller’s club. To
the death of this just man some Jews
ascribe the ruin of their nation.
(11) ADVICE OF MR. LAXV-
RENCE.—Mr. Lawrence once going,
with some of his sons, by the house of a
gentleman that had been injurious to
him, gave a charge to his sons to this
purpose: “That they should never
think or speak amiss of that gentleman
for the sake of any thing he had done
against him; but, whenever they went
by his house, should lift up their hearts
in prayer to God for him and his fami-
ly.” This good man had learned to
practise that admirable precept of our
Lord, “ Pray for them which despitefully
use you and persecute you.”
(c) REV. W. HERRING AND
DR. LAMB.——Mr. Herring, one of the
puritan ministers, was eminently dis-
tinguished for Christian meekness. and
for love to his greatest enemies. Dr.
Lamb, a violent persecutor of the Puri-
tans, and especially of this good man,
being on a journey, unhappily broke his
leg, and was carried to the inn where
Mr. Herring happened to be staying for
the night. Mr. H. was called on to
pray that evening in the family, when
he prayed with so much fervor and
afi‘ec‘ion for the doctor as to surprise
all who heard him. Being afterwards
asked why he manifested such respect
301
1 57 EN EMIES,
LOVE TO.

to a man who was so utterly unworthy
of it, he replied, “The greater enemy
he is, the more need he hath of our
prayers. We must prove ourselves to
be the disciples of Christ by loving our
enemies, and praying for our persecu-
tors.”
(d) MR. BURKITT AND HIS
INJURIES.—-Mr. Burkitt observes in
his journa‘, that some persons would
never have had a particular share in
his prayers but for the injuries they had
done him.
(e) OLD GABRIEL AND THE
PATROL.—At an anti-slavery meet-
ing, held at Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania,
the Rev. Mr. Dickey, of Ohio, related
the following a cdote.
I will relate ?case that occurred with-
in the circle of my acquaintance. A
slave who could neither read nor write,
heard the gospel, and the Spirit of God
made it effectual to his conversion.
Like all true converts, he felt a mis-
sionary spirit. He was anxious for the
conversion of his brethren. And, at
length, it became his uniform practice,
frequently after the toils of the day were
over, to walk two or three miles, and
hold a meeting among the slaves. On
one occasion, this meeting was dis-
covered by the patrol, who are author-
ized to inflict summary punishment of
ten lashes upon all slaves they find
assembled together, for any reason.
This was done immediately with all
present, but Old Gabriel. As he was
the ringleader, they thought he must
be punished more severely; so they
took him to the magistrate. As they
were tying up his hands, he exclaimed,
“Oh this is just the way Pontius Pilate
did to my Massa !” Here his persecu-
tors relented. One of them afterwards
Was troubled in his conscience for what
he had done; and after a long time,
finding no peace, he went to Old Ga-
briel, and asked him if he would forgive
him. “Forgive you!” said Old Ga-
briel; “why massa, me have been
praying for you ever since you tied me
u !’7
THE DYING NEGRO BOY.
--A poor little African negro, only ten
years of age, went to hear the preach-
ing of one of the missionaries, and be-

came, through his instrumentality, a
convert, to the Christian religion. His
master, (an inveterate enemy to mis-
sions,) hearing of it, commanded him
never to go again, and declared he
would have him whipped to death if he
did. The poor little boy, in consequence
of this mandate, was very miserable
He could scarcely refrain from going,
yet he knew his death was inevitable if
he did. In this critical situation, he
sought direction and assistance at the
throne of grace, and after having done
this, he felt convinced that it was still
his duty to attend, but to be careful that
he should never interfere with his mas-
ter’s business, and, for the rest, to leave
himself in the hands of God. He
therefore went, and on his return, was
summoned to his master’s presence;
and after much violent and abusive
language, received five-and-twenty lash!
es, and then in a sarcastic tone of blas
phemous ridicule, his master exclaimed
“What can Jesus Christ do for you
now?” “He enables me to bear it
patiently,” said the poor child. “ Give
him five-and-twenty-lashes more,” said
the inhuman wretch. He was obeyed.
“And what can Jesus Christ do for
you now '2” asked the unfeeling mon-
ster. “He helps me to look forward
to a future reward,” replied the little
sufferer. “Give him five-and-twenty
lashes more,” vociferated the cruel
tyrant, in a transport of rage. They
complied; and while he listened with
savage delight to the extorted groans ot ‘
his dying victim, be again demanded,
“ VVhat can Jesus Christ do for you
now '2” The youthful martyr, with the
last effort of expiring nature, meekly
answered, “He enables me to pray for
you, massa.” And instantly breathed
his last!
(g) SLAVE’S PRAYER OVER-
HEARD.-—A wealthy planter in the
South who had a great number of slaves,
found one of them reading the Bible,
and reproved him for the neglect of his
work, saying there was time enough on
Sundays for reading the Bible, and that
on other days he ought to be in the tobac-
co house. The slave repeating the of-
fence, he ordered him to be whipped.
Going near the place of punishment, soon
302
EXAMPLES AMONG THE HEATHEN.
158
after its infliction, curiosity led him to
listen to a voice engaged in prayer;
and he heard the poor black implore
the Almighty to forgive the injustice of
his master, to touch his heart with a
sense of his sin and to make him a good
Christian. Struck with remorse, he
made an immediate change in his life,
which had been careless and dissipated,
burnt his profane books and cards, lib-
erated all his slaves, and appeared now
to study how to render his wealth and
talents useful to others.
168. Examples among the Heathen.
(a) PERICLES AND THE RAIL-
ER.—-Pericles was_of so patient a spirit,
that he was hardly ever troubled with
any thing that crossed him. There was
a man who did nothing all the day but
rail at him in the marketplace, before all
the people, notwithstanding Pericles was
a magistrate. Pericles, however, took no
notice of it, but, despatching sundry
cases of importance till night came, he
went home with a sober pace. The
man followed him all the way, defam-
ing him as he went. Pericles, when he
came home, it being dark, called his
man, and desired him to get a torch and
light the fellow home. '
(Z2) EXAMPLE OF C./iESAR.—It is
said of Julius Caesar, that upon any pro-
vocation, he would repeat the Roman
alphabet before he suffered himself to
speak, that he might be more just and
calm in his resentments ; and, further,
that he could forget nothing but wrongs
and remember nothing but benefits.
(0) EXAMPLE OF ADRIAN .—It
is commonly said, that “Revenge is
sweet ;” but it can only be so to those
weak minds that are incapable of bear-
mg an injury. An elevated mind is
superior to injuries, and pardons them.
The Emperor Adrian, meeting a man
who had insulted him before he came to
the government, said to him, “Approach,
you have nothing to fear ; I am an em-
peror.” This is an example well
worthy of being imitated by those who
are called to return good for evil.
(cl) EXAMPLE OF EUCLID.-—
Euclid, a disciple of Socrates, having
offended his brother, the brother cried

_ ' ' ‘a I\.'_.
out in a rage, “Let me die, ifI am not
revengcd on you one time or other :” to
whom Euclid replied, “ And let me die,
if I do not soften you by my kindnesses,
and make you love me as well as
ever.” Vl/hat a reproof to unforgiving
professors of Christianity!
(e) THE SAYING OF SOCRA.
TES.—Socrates, who was as pure 8
teacher of morals and as near like a
true Christian as any of the ancient
heathen, says, “The person who has
received an injury must not return it,
as is the opinion of the vulgar.”
(f) PHOCION’S DYING CHARGE
TO HIS SON .-—Phocion was an Athen-
ian, born some four hundred years B. c.,
and one of the most upright and benev-
olent heathen that ever lived. Yet he
was condemned to die as a criminal,
and denied even a grave in the country
to which he had devoted his life. What
could be more unjust in the Athenians,
than putting their public benefactor to
death in such a way as this’.2 They
sadly repented their madness afterwards,
put the accuser to death, and erected a
statue to Phocion’s memory. But when
Phocion had taken the poison which he
was condemned to drink, and was about
to die, “he charged his son, with his Zast
breath, that he should show no resentment
against his persecutors. ’ ’
What taught him to feel such forbear-
ance and kindness towards those who
had so wickedly wronged him? The
voice of conscience—the law God hath
written on the heart.
THE INDIAN AND THE
ENGLlSHi\iAN.—-A short time before
the war between the English and the
Indians in Pennsylvania broke out, an
English gentleman, who lived on the
borders of the province, was standing
one evening at his door, when an Indian
came and desired a little food. He an-
swered, he had none for him; he then
asked for a little beer, and received the
same answer. N ot yet discouraged, he
begged for a little water; but the gen-
tleman only answered, “Get ye gone
for an Indian dog.” The Indian fixed
his eye for a little time on the English-
man, and then went away.
Some time after, tins gentleman, who
was fond of shooting, pursued his game
303
158
ENEMI ES, LOVE TO.
till he was lost in the woods. After
wandering a while, he saw an Indian hut,
and went to it to inquire his way to some
plantation. The Indian said, “It is a
great way off, and the sun is near going
down ; you cannot reach it to-night, and
if you stay in the woods the wolves will
eat you up; but if you have a mind to
lodge with me, you may.” The gen-
tleman gladly accepted the invitation,
and went in. The Indian boiled a lit-
tle venison for him, gave him some rum
and water, and then spread some deer
skins for him to lie upon ; having done
this, himself and another Indian went
and lay at the other side of the hut.
He called the gentlemai in the morn-
ing, telling him that the sun was up,
and that he had a great way to go to the
plantation, but that he would show him
the way. Taking their guns, the two
Indians went forward, and he followed.
When they had gone several miles, the
Indian told him he was within two miles
of the plantation he wanted: he then
stepped before him, and said, “Do you
know me ?” In great confusion, the
gentleman answered, “ I have seen you.”
The Indian replied, “ Yes, you have
seen me at your own door ; and I will
give you a piece of advice: when a
poor Indiar, that is hungry, and dry,
and faint, again asks you for a little
meat, or drink, do not bid him get him
gone for an Indian dog.” So he turned
and went away.
Which of these two was to be com-
mended, or which acted most agreeably.
to the Saivor’s golden rule in Matt.
vfi.12?
(it) THE SLAVE’S REVENGE.—
VVhen the Romans besieged Grumen-
tum in Lucania, and the city was re-
duced to the last extremity, two slaves
escaped into the camp of the besiegers.
The place was soon afterwards taken
by storm, and plundered. The two
slaves then ran to the house of their
mistress, whom they seized with a kind
of violence, and carried off. When
they were asked who she was, they
answered, she was their mistress, and a
most cruel mistress; upon whom they
were going to take revenge for all the
barbarous treatment they had suffered
from her. In this way they compelled


---_ I‘
her to quit the city, and conveyed her to
a safe retreat, where they concealed her
with great care; and when the fury of
the soldiers was abated, and tranquillity
was restored in the city, they brought
her back to her house, and obeyed her
as before. She gave them their liberty,
which was the greatest reward in her
power to bestow ; but certainly far short
of the services the had rendered her.
(i) LIVIA’S ADVICE TO AUGUS.
TUS.—-T he Emperor Augustus being
informed of a conspiracy against his
life, headed by Lucius Cinna, was at
first moved by resentment to resolve
upon the cruelest punishment. But re-
flecting afterwards that Cinna was a
young man of an illustrious family, and
nephew to the great Pompey, he broke
out into bitter fits of passion. “ Why
live I, if it be for the god of mercy that
I should die’.2
my cruelties ’.l Is my life of so great a
value, that oceans of blood must be shed
to preserve it '2” His wife I ivia, find-
ing him in this perplexity, “Will you
take a woman’s counsel ?” said she.
“ Imitate the physicians, who, when or-
dinary remedies fail, make trial of what
are extraordinary. By severity you
have prevailed nothing. Lepidus has
followed Savidienus ; Murena, Lepidus ;
Ccepio, Murena; and Egnatius, Ccapio.
Begin now, and try whether sweetness
and clemency may not succeed. Cinna
is detected. Forgive him; he will
never henceforth have the heart to hurt
thee, and it will be an act of glory.”
Augustus was a man of sense ; and
calling Cinna to a private conference,
he spoke as follows: “Thou knowest,
Cinna, that having joined my enemies,
I gave thee thy life, restored thee all thy
goods, and advanced thy fortune equally
with the best of those who had always
been my friends. The sacerdotal office
I conferred upon thee, after having
denied it to others who had borne arms
in my service. And yet after so many
obligations, thou hast undertaken to
murder me.” Seeing Cinna astonishel
and silent with the consciousness ofguilt,
Augustus went on as follows: “ Well,
Cinna, go thy way; I again give thee
that life as a traitor, which I gave thee
before as an enemy. Let friendship
Must there be no end of
304
IT OFTEN CHECKS AND REFORMS THEM.
.__~__-
159
from this time forward commence be-
twixt us; and let us make it appear
whether thou hast received thy life, or
I have given it, with the better faith.”
Some time after, he preferred Cinna to
the cosular dignity, complaining of him
that he had not resolution to solicit it.
Their friendship continued uninterrupt-
ed till the death of Cinna ; who, in token
of his gratitude, appointed Augustus to
be his sole heir. And it is remarkable,
that Augustus reaped the due reward
of a clemency so generous and ex-
emplary ; for from that time there never
was the slightest conspiracy or attempt
against him.
MOTIVES FOR LOVE TO ENEMIES.
159. It otton checks and reforms them.
(a) A KISS FOR A BLOW.-'-I
once lived in Boston, says Mr. lVright,
and was one of the city school com-
mittee.
One day I visited one of the primary
schools. There were about fifty chil-
dren in it, between four and eight years
old.
“Children,” said I, “have any of
you a question to ask to-day ?”
“Please tell us,” said a little boy,
“what is meant by ‘overcoming evil
with good ?’ ”
“I am glad,” said I, “ you have ask-
ed that question; for I love to talk
to you about peace, and show you how
to settle all difficulties without fighting.”
I went on, and tried to show them
what the precept meant, and how to ap-
ply it, and carry it out. I was trying
to think of something to make it plain
to the children, when the following in-
cident occurred.
A boy about seven, and his sister
about five years old, sat near me. As
I was talking, George doubled up his
fist, and struck his sister on her head,
as unkind and cruel brothers often do.
She was angry in a moment, and
raised her hand to strike him back.
The teacher saw her, and'said, “Mary,
you had better kiss your brother.” Mary
dropped her hand, and looked up at the
teacher as if she did not fully under-
stand her. She had never been taught

to return good for evil. She thought if
her brother struck her, she, of course,
must strike him back. She had always
been taught to act on this savage maxim,
as most children are. Her teacher
looked very kindly at her, and at
George, and said again, " My dear
Mary, you had better kiss your brother.
See how angry and unhappy he looks !”
Mary looked at her brother. He look-
ed very sullen and wretched. Soon
her resentment was gone, and love for
her brother returned to her heart. She
threw both her arms about his neck,
and kissed him! The pour boy was
wholly unprepared for such a kind re-
turn for his blow. He could not en-
dure the generous aifection of his sister.
It broke his heart, and he burst out cry-
ing. The gentle sister took the corner
of her apron and wiped away his tears,
and sought to comfort him, by saying,
with most endearing sweetness and ge-
nerous aflection, “Don/t cry,George ;
you did not hurt me much.” But he
only cried the harder. No wonder.
It was enough to make any body cry.
(b) PLEDGE OF THE HINDOO
BOYS.-—Mr. Abbot, a missionary of
the American Board of Commissioners
for Foreign Missions, had under his
care three schools in the villages around
Ahmednugger, a city on the peninsula
between the Arabian Sea and the bay
of Bengal. These schools contained
about a hundred Hindoo boys. In one
of these, the following scene occurred.
The reading lesson on this occasion
contained the instructions of our Savior
in regard to the manner we should treat
those who injure us.
Mr. Abbot says, I asked the boys
what their practice was. They said,
“We strike those who strike us, and
abuse those who abuse us.” I asked
them what they thought would be the
consequence, if, instead of this, they
should bless those who curse them.
They replied, “ Among our people, we
should only be abused the more.” I
told them I thought differently; but as
Hindoos were somewhat different from
my people, I should like to see the ex-
periment tried. I then explained to
them, that however much they were in
suited, they must not retaliate; and if
20
305
159
LOVE TO.
ENEMIES,
>“_._ -____.-_-_ __—_ -__._--.-_

they thought they could not endure this,
hey might sit down. Two or three
sat down. After talking a while longer,
all got up and said, they would try it
one month, and would let any one beat
them “till their life began to go,” be-
fore they would resist. At the next ex-
amination, every one declared that they
had kept their promise. It was after-
wards found that three had failed. I
then asked those who had been faithful,
if they had suffered in consequence of
it. “ N o,’ ’ said they, “ why should
they abuse us now ?”
But, said I, what do you do when
they abuse you’.Z
One boy said, “When they curse
me, I say to them, ‘ A blessing attend
37011.7 77
Well, what then '2
“ Then I laugh, and they laugh too.”
Another boy said, he “shut his lips
tight, and said nothing.”
Well, what did the other party do to
you “I
“ O, they turned up their noses, and
walked off ?”
(0) TWO NEIGHBORS AND
THE HENS.—A man in New Jersey
told me the following circumstances
respecting himself and one of his neigh-
bors :—
“ I once owned a large flock of hens.
I generally kept them shut up. But,
one spring, I concluded to let them run
in my yard, after I had clipped their
wings, so they could not fly. One day,
when I came home to dinner, I learned
that one of my neighbors had been
there, full of wrath, to let me know my
hens had been in his garden, and that
he had killed several of them, and thrown
them over into my yard. I was great-
.y enraged because he had killed my
beautiful hens, that I valued so much.
Idetermined, at once, to be revenged,
to sue him. or in some way get redress.
I sat down and ate my dinner, as calmly
as I could. By the time I had finished
my meal, I became more cool, and
thought that perhaps it was not best to
fight with my neighbor about hens, and
thereby make him my bitter, lasting
enemy. I concluded to try another
way, being sure that it would do better.
“ After dmner, I went to my neigh

*-
bor’s. He was in his garden. I went
out, and found him in pursuit of one of
my hens with a club, trying to kill it.
Iaccosted him. He turned upon me,
his face inflamed with wrath, and broke
out in a great f ury—
“ ‘ You have abused me. I will kill
all your hens, if I can get at them. I
never was so abused. My garden is
ruined.’
“ ‘ I am very sorry for it,’ said I. ‘ I
did not wish to injure you, and now see
that I have made a great mistake in
letting out my hens. I ask your for-
giveness, and am willing to pay you six
times the damage.’
“ The man seemed confounded. He
did not know what to make of it. He
looked up to the sky—-then down to the
earth—-then at his neighbor—then at
his club-and then at the poor hen he
had been pursuing, and said nothing./
“ ‘ Tell me, now,’ said I, ‘ what is
the damage, and I will pay you six-
fold ; and my hens shall trouble you no
more. Iwill leave it entirely to you
to say what I shall do. I cannot afford
to lose the love and good will of my
neighbors, and quarrel with them, for
hens, or any thing else.’
“ ‘ I am a great fool,’ said the neigh-
bor. ‘ The damage is not worth talk-
ing about; and I have more need to
compensate you than you me, and to
ask your forgiveness than you mine.’ ”
(oi) CRUELTY KILLED BY
KIN DNESS.-—A young woman in Ver-
mont married a poor, but worthy man,
against her father’s wish. He drove
them from his house, and closed his
door and heart against them. They
came down near Boston, went to work,
and prospered. After many years, the
father had occasion to come to Boston.
He concluded to go and see his daugh-
ter, expecting a cold reception. His
daughter and her husband received him
most kindly and lovingly. After stay-
ing with them awhile, he went back to
Vermont.
One of his neighbors, hearing where
he had been, Iisked him how his daugh-
ter and her husband had treated him.
“I never was so treated before in my
life,” said the Weeping and broken-
hearted father. “ They have broken
IT OFTEN CHECKS AND REFORMS THEM.
.-
159'.
my heart—-they have killed me-—I don’t
feel as though I could live under it.”
“ What did they do to you '2” asked
the neighbor. “ Did they abuse you Cl”
“ They loved me to death, and killed
me with kindness,” said he. I can
never forgive myself for treating so
cruelly my own darling daughter, who
loved me 30 affectionately. I feel as if
I should die to think how I grieved the
precious child when I spurned her from
my door. Heaven bless them, and
forgive me my cruelty ani injustice to
them.”
Who does not see in this an infallible
cure for difiiculties between man and
man’.Z There is not a child nor man on
earth, who would not feel and say, that
that daughter, though so deeply wrong-
ed and outraged by her angry father,
Iid right in treating him as she did.
That father was her enemy, but she
was not his. He hated her, while she
loved him.
(6) THE REVENGEFUL TEN-
ANT .—-A gentleman had a garden,
in which he took great delight. It was
surrounded by the cottages of his tenants
and laborers, to whom he justly looked
as the protectors of his property, and
felt secure, inasmuch as no person could
approach his premises but through theirs.
He had for some days watched the pro-
gress of a fine bed of tulips. “ To-mor-
row,’ ’ said he, “they will be in full per-
fection,” and he invited a company of
friends to witness the display of their
beauties. In the morning he hastened
to the spot; but to his utter astonish-
ment, the Whole bed was a scene of
shnvelled desolation. Some unaccount-
able influence had withered every stem,
and each flower lay prostrate and fa-
ding on the ground.
A short time afterwards, a bed of
ranunculuses shared the same fate ; and
in succession several other choice and
favorite productions. At length, the
gentleman became persuaded that the
destruction did not proceed from any
natural cause, such as blight or light-
I1ing,hut that it must have been occa-
sioned by the intentional mischief of
some ’reacherous and malignant in-
dividual who had access to the grounds.
He resolved therefore to watch, and en-

gaged a friend to accompany him for'
that purpose. After remaining in their
station some time, they saw a person
come out of one of the cottages, and ap-
ply some destructive preparation to the
roots of such flowers as were advancing
to blossom. The gentleman at once
recognized him as a workman whom a
few weeks before he had had occasion
to reprove, and who thus malignantly
gratified his resentment. :Iis frieno
strongly urged that the offender should
be prosecuted, and oflered to bear wit-
ness against him. But the ~roprie‘or re-
plied, “ N o ; I am much obliged by your
kindness in remaining with me; I have
ascertained the author of the mischief,
and am satisfied; I must use another
method of dealing with him.”
In the morning, the gentleman or-
dered his servant to purchase a fine
joint of meat, and carry it to the cot-
tage of this man, desiring he would en-
joy it with his family. This treatment,
so contrary to his deserts and expecta-
tions, proved the means of effectually
humbling and softening his stubborn
and malignant heart. The offender
presented himself before his injured
master, freely confessed his guilt, im-
plored forgiveness, and proved, from
that day forward, a most faithful, dili-
gent, and devoted servant. “If thine
enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst,
give him drink; for in so doing thou
shalt heap coals of fire on his head.
Be not overcome of evil, but overcome
evil with ood.”
\VILLIAM LADD AND HIS
NEIGHBOR.—“I had,” the Apostle
of Peace used to say, in relating the
anecdote, “ a fine field of grain, grow-
ing upon an out-farm at some distance
from the homestead. \Vl1ei1e\'er I
rode byl saw my neighbor Pulcifer’s
sheep in the lot, destroying my hopes
of a harvest. These sheep were of the
gaunt, long-legged kind, active as span-
iels; they would spring over the high-
est fence, and no partition wall could
keep them out. I complained to neigh-
bor Pulsifer about them, sent him fre-
quent messages, but all without avail.
Perhaps they would be kept out for a
day or tW: ; but the legs of his sheep
were long *€ 1;:'\,' gram more erupting
"J. 1
l-‘$9 ENEMIES,
LOVE TO.



than the adjoining pasture. I rode by
again——the sheep were still there; I
became angry, and told rry men to set
the dogs on them ; and if that would not
do, I would pay them if they would
shoot the sheep.
“I rode away much agitated; for I
was not so much of a peace man then
as I am now, and I felt literally full of
fight. All at once a light flashed in
upon me. I asked myself, ‘Would it
not be well for you to try in your own
conduct the peace principle you are
teaching to others '2’ I thought it all
over, and settled down in my mind as
to the best course to be pursued.
“The next day I rode over to see
neighbor Pulsifer. I found him chop-
ping wood at his door. ‘ Good morning,
neighbor!’ No answer. ‘ Good morn-
ing!’ I repeated. He gave a kind of
grunt without looking up. ‘I came,’
continued I, ‘to see about the sheep.’
At this, he threw down his axe and ex-
claimed, in an angry manner: ‘Now
aren’t you a pretty neighbor, to tell your
men to kill my sheep '2 I heard of it;
a rich man, like you, to shoot a poor
man’s sheep !’
“‘I was wrong neighbor,’ said I;
‘ but it won’t do to let your sheep eat up
all that grain; so I came over to say
that I would take your sheep to my
homestead pasture and put them in with
mine ; and in the fall you may take
them back, and if any one is missing
you may take your pick out of hny
whole flock.’
“ Pulsifer looked confounded ; he did
not know how to take me. At last he
stammered out: ‘ Now, ’ Squire, are you
in earnest '2’ ‘Certainly I am,’ I an-
swered; ‘it is better for me to feed
your sheep in my pasture on grass, than
.0 feed them here on grain ; and I see
the fence can’t keep them out.’
“After a moment’s silence, ‘The
sheep shan’t trouble you any more,’ ex-
claimed Pulsifer. ‘I will fetter them
all. But I’ll let you know that, when
any man talks of shooting, I can shoot,
too ; and when they are kind and neigh-
borly, I can be kind, too.’ The sheep
never again trespassed on my lot. And,
my friends,” he would continue, address-
ing the audience, “ remember that when

\-
you talk of injuring your neighmra,
they will talk of injuring you. When
nations hreaten to fight, other nations
will be ready, too. Love will beget
love; a wish to be at peace will keep
you in peace. You can overcome evil
with ood. There is no other way.”
(g) SUBDUED PRIDE AND
SCORN.——A lady in one of the towns
of Mass. had repeatedly treated a well
disposed young man with marked con-
tempt and unkindness. Neither of them
moved in the upper circles of society;
but the lady, without cause, took numer-
ous occasions to cast reproachful reflec-
tions on the young man as beneath her
notice, and unfit to be treated with com-
mon respect. This lady had the mis-
fortune to meet with a considerable loss
in the destruction of a valuable chaise.
occasioned by the running away of an
untied horse. She had borrowed the
horse and vehicle, and was required to
make good the damage. This was a
serious draft on her pecuniary resour-
ces, and she felt much distressed by her
ill fortune. The young man, being of a
kind and generous disposition, and de-
termined to return good for evil, instant-
ly set himself about collecting money
for her relief. Subscribing liberally
himself, and actively soliciting others,
he soon made up a generous sum, and
before she became aware of his move-
ment, appeared before her and placed
his collection modestly at her disposal.
She was thunderstruck. He left her
without waiting for thanks or commen-
dation. She was entirely o"ercome,
wept like a child, and declared she
would never be guilty again of showing
contempt, speaking reproachfully of, or
treating with unkindness, him or any
other fellow-creature. Was there any
thing in all this contrary to nature'2
(h) MR. POWELL AND THE
OFF ICER.—Mr. Powell, a minister of
the gospel, being informed that an 0ffi-
cer was come to apprehend him fo
preaching the gospel, quietly resigned
himself into his hands, requesting only
that he might be permitted to join with
his wife and children in prayer before
he was dragged to prison. With this
request the oflieer complied ; and the
famil;r being together, the officer was
\
308
IT OFTEN CHANGES THEM INTO FRIENDS.
160

,-—
so struck M is .he ardent and tender
prayers of this suffering servant of God
for his family, for the church, and for
his persecutors in particular, that be de-
clared he would die rather than have a
band in apprehending such a man.
160. It often changes them into friends.
(a) PHILIP AND THE ARGIVE.
—Arcadius, an Argive, was incessantly
railing at Philip of Macedon. Ventur-
ing once into the dominions of Philip,
the courtiers reminded their prince that
he had now an opportunity to punish
Arcadius for his past insolences, and to
put it out of his power to repeat them.
The king, however, instead of seizing
the hostile stranger and putting him to
death, dismissed him loaded with cour-
tesies and kindnesses. Some time after
Arcadius’s departure from Macedon,
word was brought that the king’s old
enemy was become one of his warmest
t"riends, and did nothing but diffuse his
praises wherever he went. On hearing
this, Philip turned to his courtiers and
aslud, with a smile: “ Am not I a bet-
ter physician than you ?”
(Z2) ALEXANDER,’S VICTORIES.
—-Alexander the Great being asked how
he had been able, at so early an age
and in so short a period, to conquer such
vast regions and establish so great a
name, replied: “I used my enemies so
well that I compelled them to be my
friends ; and I treated my friends with
such constant regard that they became
unalterably attached to me.”
(0) SIGISMOND AND HIS ENE-
MIES. --Some courtiers reproached the
Emperor Sigismond, that instead of de-
stroying his conquered foes he admitted
them to favor. “ Do I not,” replied this
illustrious monarch, “effectually destroy
my enemies when I make them my
friends '2”
(d) THE CHINESE MONARCH
AND THE REBELS.—-A Chinese em-
ceror being told that his enemies had
raised an insurrection in one of the dis-
tant provinces —- “ Come, then, my
friends,” said he, “ follow me, and I
promise you that we shall quickly de-
stroy them.” He marched forward,
and the rebels submitted upon his ap-
there came up a storm of rain.

an.-¢
proach. All new thought that he would
take the most signal revenge; but were
surprised to see the captives treated with
mildness and humanity. “ How,’ ’ cried
the first minister, “ is this the manner in
which you fulfil your promise? Your
royal word was given that you enemies
should be destroyed; and behold you
have pardoned them all, and even ca-
ressed some of them I” “I promised,”
replied the emperor, with a generous
air, “to destroy my enemies. I have
fulfilled my word; for, see, they are
enemies no longer ; I have made friends
of them.” Let every Christian imitate
so noble an example, and learn “to
vercome evil with ood.”
fe) TAKING CARE OF AN ENE-
MY’S HAY.—--A college professor once
related the following fact to his class,
in order to show the power of kindness
in effecting a change in the disposition
and conduct of our enemies towards us.
There were two farmers who lived
near neighbors, and whose farms laid
side by side. One of these farmers was
a pious, good man, of gentle, inoffensive
character. The character of the other
was just the reverse. His temper was
like a tinder, taking fire at every spark
that came in his way. He hated hi-
pious neighbor ; but more, probably. or
account of his piety than any thing else.
He was always vexing and tormenting
the good man, quarreling about mere
trifies, as much as one can quarrel who
has no one to quarrel with him.
One summer he had mowed down a
good deal of grass; and he had gone
away from home, leaving it out in the
field to dry. But while he was absent
While
the clouds were gathering the pious man
saw the exposed condition of his neigh
bor’s hay, and it struck him that there
was now a fine chance to show a goon
man’s revenge—that is, to return good
for evil. So he took with him his hired
men, and got his neighbor’s hay all
safely into the barn. What was the
result ?
WVhen the quarrelsome man came
home, expecting to see his hay all soaked
by the rain, and found it had been taken
care 0" by the man he had so much In-
jured, ' gut him to the very core. From
309
4&0
ENEMIES, LOVE TO.


that hour the evil spirit was cast out of | home. The next winter, when we came
him. No more abuse did he give the
good man after that ; but he became as
obliging and kind to his pious neighbor
as the latter had been to him.
(f) HO‘/V TO OVERCOME EVIL.
--“I once had a neighbor,” says Mr.
White, “ who, though a clever man,
came to me one hay-day, and said:
‘Esquire VVhite,I want you to come
and get your geese away.’ ‘ I/Vhy,’
said I, ‘what are my geese doing ?’
‘ They pick my pigs’ ears when they
are eating, and drive them away, and I
will not have it.’ ‘What can I do?’
said I. ‘ You must yoke them.’ ‘That
I have not time to do now,’ said I ; ‘ I do
not see but they must run.’ ‘ If you do
not take care of them I shall,’ said the
clever shoemaker, in anger. ‘ What do
you say, Esquire White ?’ ‘I cannot
take care of them now ; but I will pay
you for all damages.’ ‘ Well,’ said he,
‘ you will find that a hard thing, I guess.’
“ So off he went, and I heard a terrible
squalling among the geese. The next
news from the geese was, that three of
them were missing. My children went
and found them terribly mangled and
dead, and thrown into the bushes.
“‘Now,’ said I, ‘all keep still, and
let me punish him.’ In a few days the
shoemaker’s hogs broke into my corn.
I saw them, but let them remain a long
time. At last I drove them all out, and
picked up the corn which they had torn
down and fed them with it in the road.
By this time the shoemaker came in
great haste after them.
“‘Have you seen any thing of my
hogs '2’ said he. ‘Yes, sir; you will
find them yonder, eating some corn
which they tore down in my field.’ ‘ In
your field ?’ ‘ Yes, sir,’ said I; ‘hogs
love corn, you know-—they were made
to eat.’ ‘ How much mischief have they
done ’Z’ ‘O, not much,’ said I.
“ Well, off he went to look, and esti-
mated the damage to be equal to a
bushel and a-half of corn.
“ ‘ Oh, no,’ said I, ‘ it can’t be.’
‘ Yes,’ said the shoemaker; ‘ and I will
pay you every cent of damage.’ ‘No,’
said I, ‘ you shall pay me nothing. My
geese have been a great trouble to you.’
" The shoemaker blushed, and went

to settle, the shoemaker determined to
pay me for my corn. ‘ No,’ said I ; ‘ I
shall take nothing.’
“After some talk we parted; but in
a. day or two I met him in the road, and
fell into conversation in the most friend-
ly manner. But when I started on he
seemed loth to move, and I paused.
For a moment both of us were silent.
At last he said: ‘I have something la-
boring on my mind.’ ‘Well, what is
it ?’ ‘Those geese. Ikilled three of
your geese, and shall never rest until
you know how I feel. Iam sorry.’
And the tears came in his eyes. ‘Oh
well,’ said I, ‘never mind; I suppose
my geese were provoking.’
“I never took any thing of him for
it ; but whenever my cattle broke into
his field after this, he seemed glad ; be
cause he could show how patient he
could be.
“ Now,” said the narrator, “ conquer
yourself, and you can conquer with
kindness where you can conquer in no
other way.” '
(g) LIVING SWINE FOR DEAD
ONE .——There was a Christian in
New Jersey, that had a neighbor of
such a malevolent and savage charac.
ter, as made him a plague and terror ta
those with whom he became offended
Forgiveness, or mercy, nobody expectec.
from him.
One day he found the hogs of his
good neighbor in his corn-field. He
drove them out, and came to their own-
er in a storm of passion, making a
great bluster, about the damage done to
his crop. “IfI ever see them in my
corn again,” said he, “ I’ll kill them-—
that I will.”
On he went, raving and scolding, his
eyes flashing fire every word he spoke.
But the good man kept calm as a
summer’s evening, and said nothing but
what was kind and good-natured in
reply.
Mr. Wrath, after he had spent all
his fury, went off very much vexed to
see that none of it took effect.
The good man shut up his swine at
once. But, impatient for their favorite
and new-found food, they soon made
their escape; and got into the same
\
310
IT CFTEN CHANGES THEM INTO FRIENDS.
1 U
'60
com-field again, without the knowledge
of their owner.
Mr. Wrath discovered them, and at
once attacked them with might and
main ; as much as to say (like a duel-
ist), “ Nothing but your blood will give
me satisfaction!” He did, indeed,
slaughter three or four of them, before
they could make their retreat. Then,
to cap the climax, and aggravate his
neighbor’s feelings to the utmost, he put
the dead bodies on a sled, or cart, and
drew them over to his neighbor’s house.
He threw them down before the door,
saying with sarcastic bitterness, “ Your
hogs got into my corn again, and I
thought I would bring them home I”
The owner of the swine kept per-
fectly cool, giving no look or word of
resentment at the injury done to him.
He might have gone to law with Mr.
Wrath, and, perhaps, made him smart
severely for destroying his property and
insulting him as he did. But he
thought it best to keep out of the law ;
and every man should think so, except
when driven to it by a sense of duty.
The next year he himself had a
corn-field situated in a similar way be-
side the road. Now it so happened that
neighbor Wrath had some unruly swine
running in the street, which got into the
good man’s corn-field, and committed a
depredation similar to that which his
had done in Mr. Wrath’s corn-field the
year before. He went to Mr. Wrath,
and told him what mischief his vagrant
swine had done, and requested him to
shut them up. But he paid no atten-
tion to the request.
Soon after they got into the same
field again. The Christian discovered
them; and he hit on a good-natured
and witty expedient of contrasting his
own temper and conduct with those of
his neighbor under similar circumstan-
ces. Instead of killing them, and car-
rying them home dead, he caught them,
tied their legs carefully, and drew them
with his team to their owner’s door.
“Neighbor,” said he, kindly, “ I found
your hogs in my corn again, and I
thought I would bring them home !”
Never was a man more completely
confounded ! He saw the wide differ-
ence between his neighbor’s conduct

_—_~__ - -__ -—-__—
and his own; he looked on the living
swine, but he thought of the dead ones !
It was too much. He told his neigh-
bor that he was very sorry, and that he
would pay all damages the hogs had
done. He offered to pay him, too, for
the hogs he had killed the year before I
“ N 0,” replied the other, “I shall make
no account of the damages your hogs
have done; and I shall take nothing for
what you did to mine. I let that pass.”
Mr. Wrath was completely over-
come. He concluded at once to yield,
and retreat from a contest where such
unequal odds were against him. He
was as kind and generous to his Chris-
tian neighbor afterwards, as he was
mischievous and cruel before.
Thus evil was overcome with good ;
and wrath made over into friendship.
(It) A CHRISTIAN COLONY.—-
One of thirty or forty New Englanders,
who went out to settle in the \Vestern
wilderness, related to Mrs. Child the
following particulars. They were
mostly neighbors, and had been drawn
to unite together in emigration from a
general unity of opinion on various
subjects. For some years previous,
they had been in the habit of meeting
occasionally at each others’ houses, to
talk over -their duties to God and man,
in all simplicity of heart. Their libra-
ry was the Gospel, their priesthood the
inward light. There were then no an-
ti-slavery societies; but thus taught,
and reverently willing to learn, they
had no need of such agency, to discover
their duties to the enslaved. The
efforts of peace societies had reached
this secluded band only in broken
echoes ; and non-resistance societies
had no existence. But with the vol-
ume of the Prince of Peace, and hearts
open to his influence, what need had
they of preambles and resolutions ‘.1
“ Rich in God-culture, this little band
started for the far West. Their inward
homes were blooming gardens; they
made their outward in a wilderness.
They were industrious and frugal, and
all things prospered under their hands.
But soon wolves came near the fold, in
the shape of reckless unprincipled ad-
venturers; believers in force and cun-
ning, who acted according to their
311
I60
Luv 1:. 10.
EN EMlEb,

_-_ ._.‘

creed. The colony of practical Chris-
tians spoke of their depredations in
terms of gentlest remonstrance, and re-
paid them with unvarying kindness.
They went farther—-they openly an-
nounced, “You may do us what evil
you choose; we will return nothing but
good.” Lawyers came into the neigh-
borhood, a11d offered their services to
settle disputes. They answered, “ VVe
have no need )f you. As neighbors we
receive you 11 the most friendly spirit;
hm for us your occupation has ceased
to exist.” “What will you do, if
rascals burn your barns, and steal your
harvests ?” “ VVe will return good for
evil. We believe this is the highest
truth, and therefore the best expedi-
ency.”
“When the rascals heard this, they
considered it a marvellous good joke, and
said and did many provoking things,
which to them seemed witty. Bars were
taken down in the night, and cows let
into the corn-fields. The Christians
repaired the damage as well as they
could, put the cows in the barn, and at
twilight drove them gently home 5 say-
ing, “Neighbor, your cows have been
in my field. 1 have fed them well
during the day, but I would not keep
them all night, lest the children should
suffer for their milk.”
“ If this was fun, those who planned
the joke found no heart to laugh at it.
By degrees a visible change came over
these troublesome neighbors. They
ceased to cut offhorscs’ tails, and break
the legs of poultry. Rude boys would
say to a younger brother, “ Don’t
throw that stone, Bill! When I killed
the chicken last week, did’nt they send
it to mother, because they thought
chicken-broth would be good for poor
Mary ? I should think you’d be
ashamed to throw stones at their chick-
ens.” Thus was evil overcome with
good ; till not one was found to do them
wilful injury.
“ Years passed on, and saw them
thriving in worldly substance, beyond
their neighbors, yet beloved by all.
From them the lawyer and the consta-
ole obtained no fees. The shenff stam-
mered and apologized, when he took their
hard earned goods in payment for the war

Ma
tax. They mildly replied, ‘ ’Tis a bad
trade, friend. Examine it in the light
of conscience and see if it be not so.’
But while they refused to pay such fees
and taxes, they were liberal to a pro
verb in their contributions for all useful
and benevolent purposes.
“ At the end of ten years, the public
lands, which they had chosen for their
farms, were advertised for sale at auc-
tion. According to custom, those who
had settled and cultivated the soil, were
considered to have a right to bid it in at
the government price; which at that
time was $1 25 per acre. But the
fever of land speculation then chanced
to run unusually high. Adventurers
from all parts of the country were
flocking to the auction 5 and capitalists
in Baltimore, Philadelphia, New-York,
and Boston, were sending agents to buy
up western lands. No one supposed
that custom, or equity, would be regard-
ed. The first day’s sale showed that
speculation ran to the verge of insanity.
Land was eagerly bought in at seven-
teen, twentydive, and forty dollars an
acre. The Christian colony had small
hope of retaining their farms. As first
settlers, thcy had chosen the best land;
and pcrsevering industry had brought it
into the highest cultivation. Its market
value was much greater than the acres
already sold at exorbitant prices. In
view of these facts, they had prepared
their minds for another remove into the
wilderness, perhaps to be again ejected
by a similar process. But the morning
their lot was offered for sale, they ob-
served with grateful surprise, that their
neighbors were everywhere busy among
the crowd, begging and expostulatingz
“ Don’t bid on these l-andsl, These men
have been working hard on them for ten
years. During all that time, they
never did harm to man or brutc. They
are always ready to do good for evil.
They are a blessing to any neighbor-
hood. It would be a sin and a shame
to bid on their land. Let them go at
the government price.”
“ The sale came on ; the cultivators
of the soil offered $1 25 5 intending to
bid higher if necessary. But among
all that crowd of selfish, reckless spec-.
ulators, not one hid aver them .' With
312
IT OFTEN LEADS T HEM TO BECOME CHRISTIANS.
16!
out one opposing voice, the fair acres
returned to them! Ido not know a
more remarkable instance of evil over-
come with good. The wisest political
economy lies folded up in the maxims
of Christ.”
161. It often leads them to become Chris-
tians.
(a) RAVENCROSS AND HIS
SLAVE. —-Mr. Ravencross was a slave-
holder in Virginia, and reputed a hard
master. His poor distressed slaves were
in the habit of meeting at night in a
distant hut, for the purpose of worship-
ping God. He was informed of this,
and at the same time put on his guard,
as it was suspected their motives for
meeting were different from what they
held out, and that an insurrection might
be the consequence. Under this im-
pression, he determined to prevent their
assembling in future, chastised the pro-
moters of this work, and gave positive
orders, under the most serious penalty,
that they should never assemble again
under any pretence whatever, A short
time after he was told they had been
seen going in a body into the hut. Much
displeased at their disobedience, and re-
solving that night to put a stop to their
proceedings, he approached the hut with
all the feelings of an offended master.
When he reached the door, it was partly
open. He looked in; they were on
their knees. He listened ; there was a
venerable old man, who had been long
in his service, pouring out his soul in
prayer to God. The first words which
caught his ear were, “ Merciful God, turn
my poor massa’s heart ; make him mer-
ciful, that he may obtain mercy ; make
him good, that he may inherit the king-
dom of heaven.” He heard no more, but
fainted. Upon coming to himself, he
wept; went into the sacred hut, knelt
by the side of his old slave, and prayed
also! From this period he became a
true penitent, studied the Scriptures,
ook orders, and became a shining light.
He preached at the General Convention
of the Episcopal Church, in the city of
Philadelphia, before more than two hun-
dred of the clergy, in the year 1820.
(I2) THE CRUEL SLAVE-IiIOLD-
ER CONVERTED.——A slave holder

in the South. extremely irascible and
severe, found at length a slave as bad-
tempered as himself. No severity of
punishment could subdue or bow his
stern, indomitable spirit; and, even
when smarting under the lash, and
reeking with blood from head to foot, he
would still defy that master to his face,
and pour upon him a torrent of bold,
fierce, withering imprecations. It was
Turk meeting Turk. But the gospel
came ere long to that negro’s heart; it
tamed the tiger into a lamb; and then
did that very slave, once so full only of
wrath and revenge, make it the burden
of his daily prayers, that God would
have mercy on his cruel, relentless op-
pressor. His infidel master, doubting
his sincerity, and an utter stranger to
his present spirit, treated him with great-
er severity than ever, and fiercely swore
“ he’d whip the devil out of the villain ,"
but the poor slave, even while smarting
and writhing, and bleeding under the
lash, would fall on his knees, and pray
so much the more, “God bless massa!
God bless my massa!” This was too
much even for depravity like his to bear
long; and that very master, under the
blessing of God upon such an exhibition
of the Christian spirit, good returned for
evil, love for hatred, prayers for bloody
stripes, at length came himself to pray,
and weep, and rejoice in Christ with
his much abused, yet still afl’ectionate
and devoted, solely because regenerated
slave. And when the time came for a
pubhc profession of their faith in their
common Savior, you might have seen
that master and his slave going hand in
hand down into the water, there to seal
the consecration of themselves to Him
whose matchless love it is, rather than
his almighty wrath, that subdues rebel-
lious hearts to his sceptre.
(c) THE SAILOR CONVERTED.
—-Kindness and forgiveness to those
who insult and abuse us, is often the
means, in the hands of God, of making
them Christians. You exhibit religion
before them in a most attractive and en-
gaging form, if you are known as one
of its professors. Besides, when by
treating an enemy in this way you have
roused his conscience, and led him ‘.3
feel shame and contrition for what he
313
l62
EN EMIES, LO YE TO.
II‘ ~. -‘

has done to you, it is natural at such a
time that his excited conscience should
turn on his sins towards God, and lead
him to repentance.
The Holy Spirit,I doubt not, often
avails itself of this softened state of the
heart, to break it down into penitence
before God.
As some rude and irreligious sailors
were at work calking a vessel in a
certain harbor, they noticed, at a little
distance, a very aged and exemplary
Christian quietly engaged in his busi-
ness. He was noted for his generous,
peaceful, forgiving disposition.
One sailor says to another, “ You
can’t make that old man angry by any
offence you can offer him.”
The sailor who was addressed, at once
accepted the challenge. He snatched
up the bucket of tar that stood by him,
ran up to the old man, and very un-
expectedly dashed its contents upon
him.
He looked up at the sailor with sur-
prise at this wanton and unprovoked act
of malignity, and said to him in a mild
voice, “Youn man, the Savior says,
‘ Whose shall offend one of these little
ones that believe in me, it were better
for him that a millstone were hanged
about his neck and that he were cast
into the depths of the sea.’ Now if I
am one of these little ones, you have
very much offended me.”
The young sailor turned away per-
plexed and chagrined at the spirit the
injured saint exhibited. He felt con-
vinced that the man’s religion was of a
more sublime, noble and vital character
than he had usually thought the Chris-
tian religion to be. He came back to
his companions confessing that the old
man had triumphed.
The image of the old man bearing
the marks of his abuse, and looking with
so much mingled pity and displeasure
at him, was painted indelibly upon his
memory. He was gone, but the sailor
seemed to see him still I And that mild,
but terrible reproof, too, the language
still rung in his ear. The more he
thought of the old man, the more he
thought of the power and beauty of re-
.igion. The more he thought of himself,
the more ashamed and miserable did he
I feel.

_ The entire wickedness of his
heart and life seemed to come under the
review of conscience also. His distress
became insupportable.
Some time afterwards he went to see
the old man whom he had so wickedly
treated ; he asked him to forgive him,
and to pray for him too. He was very
ready to do both ; and not long after, if
I remember right, the shilor became a
hopeful Christian.
There is reason to believe that many
sinners might be converted from the
error of their ways, if they should meet
such a spirit as the sailor did in every
professed Christian whom they might
insult or abuse.
16%. Miscellaneous
(a) LOVE TO ENEMIES OB-
TAINED BY PRAYER.—There was
aman of middle age, of cold, slow,
doubting tendency of soul, who obtained,
at last a Christian’s hope. He hoped
his name was in the book of life, but
he was a weakly infant. He seemed
to grow a little in the course of six or
eight years, but slowly. He dreaded
his deficiency in one feature of Christian
character. The apprehension gave
him pain. He read in one section of
his Master’s letter, “Love your en-
emies.” For a long time, like thousands
of others, he concluded he would not
hurt them, or fight them, or return evil
for evil, and he hoped this was love.
He could hear others say of injuries re-
ceived, “I can forgive, but I will not for-
get it ; ” and he could see in their case
clearly, that this was Satan’s kind of
forgiveness. It made him fear in his
own case that he did not love his enemies.
He remembered that Christ would not
accept of a false love. He knew that
it did not mean a love of approbation
for their sins, but the love of compas-
sion. He tried to feel it, tried again,
and for a year, but did not succeed.
He read, thought, prayed over the sub-
ject. He did not love his enemies.
He continued trying for several years.
He thought, at times, that his feelings
were softer; but he soon found it was
not love. At length he found that by
mere effect of will he could not move
314
Eh
' Y . 162, 163

his affections. He became alarmed.
He fasted and prayed in earnest; and
at an hour when he Was not looking for
it, at a moment when he was least ex-
pecting, he loved his enemies. It was a
real love. He knew it in the same way,
reader, that you know mirth from we,
when you feel it yourself.
When he afterwards forgot the need
of this heavenly help, he would some-
times fall again into his former feelings,
and be almost as far from loving his
enemies as before. But when he threw
himself on his knees again, and re-
ceived the dew of heavenly influence,
the drooping grace of love to his en-
emies was quickened into new life, and
bloomed with its wonted beauty and
fragance.
(1)) EXAMPLE OF THE EARLY
CI-IRISTIANS.—-Justin Martyr, one of
the earliest writers, in his “ Apology ”
to the heathen in behalf of the Chris-
tians, says: “ VVe who once hated and
murdered one another, we who would
not enjoy the hearth in common with
strangers, on account of the difference
of our customs, now live in common
with them, since the appearance of
Christ ; we pray for our enemies; we
seek to persuade those who hate us un-
justly, that they may direct their lives
according to the glorious doctrines of
Christ, and may share with us the joy-
ful hope of enjoying the same privileges
from God the Lord of all things.”
(0) EXAMPLE OF ORlGEN.—-
Origen, one of the greatest scholars and
theologians of the Christian church in
the third century, when he was cruelly
persecuted by Demetrius, and through
his efforts excommunicated by the Sy-
nod, beautifully exhibited the same mild
and forgiving spirit. Speaking, in his
defence against the Synod, he mentions
wicked priests and rulers thus: “We
must pity them rather than hate them,
pray for them rather than curse them,
for we are created for blessing rather
than cursing.”
(d) THE CARTHAGENIAN
CHRISTIANS.——In the time of a great
pestilence, Cyprian, Bishop of the cnurch
in Carthage, in the third century, ex-
horts~ his flock to take care of the sick
and dying, not only among their friends,
but their foes. “ If,” says he, “ we only
do good to our own people we do no
more than publicans and heathens. But
if we are the children of God, who
makes his sun to shine and his rain to
descend upon the just and upon the im-
just, who sheds abroad his blessings, not
upon his friends alone, but upon those
whose thoughts are far from him, we
must show this by our actions, blessing
those who curse us and doing good to
those who persecute us.”
Stimulated by their bishop’s admoni-
tion, the members of the church ad-
dressed themselves to the work, the rich
contributing their money and the poor
their labor. Thus the sick were at-
tended to, the streets soon cleared of the
corpses that filled them, and the city
saved from the dangers of a universal
jpestilence.

163. ENVY.
(a) ENVY OF DIONYSIUS.--
“ Dionysius the tyrant,” says Plutarch,
“ out of envy, punished Philoxenius the
musician because he could sing, and
Plato the philosopher because he could
dispute, better than himself.”
(1)) SADNESS OF MUTIUS.-—
Mutius, a citizen of Rome, was noted to
be of so envious and malevolent a dis-
posinon, that Publius one day observing
him to be very sad, said, “ Either some
great evil is happened to Mutius, or
some great good to another.”
(c) CAMBYSES AND CALIGU-
LA.——Cambyses, king of Persia, slew
his brother Smerdis, out of envy, be-
cause he could draw a stronger bow
than himself or any of his followers;
and the monster Caligula slew his bro-
ther because he was a beautiful young
man.
“ Base envy withers at anotl:er‘s joy,
And hates that excellence it cannot reach ”
((2) CONVERSION HINDERED.
—-Mary was one of the first youzhs

315
l64, 165
ETERNITY-ETIQUETTE. IINDUE REGARD TO.
(says a correspondent of the New-York
Evangelist) who were awakened dur-
ing an interesting revival. When many
of her con panions submitted, she linger-
ed. Her convictions were powerful,
her anguish was severe. At length
she felt that she must and would sub-
mi-t, and said that she was willing to be
in the hands of God. Still all was
darkness a.d trouble within. She re-
mained awhile in this wretched state,
and then became calm and joyful.
Her evidences of regeneration were
bright, and she well adorned the profes-
sion which she subsequently made.
When her spiritual teacher beheld the

.. -K-_.- _ -___--_ \ —--\r--_---:¢~ I
smile of joy kindled upon her grief-
worn coumenance, he said to her,
“ Mary, what was it that kept you back
from Christ?” She replied, “I was
unwilling that any of my companions
should rejoice in hope, until I did my-
self. I knew this was wrong, but felt
unwilling to mention it, because I
thought no other person ever felt so.
But I was brought to feel willing, and
even anxious, that they should have
comfort, if I did not. I felt thatl could
not claim it, and if I should receive
comfort, even at the close of life, it
would be a mercy that I did not de-
serve.”
164. ETERNIT 1.
(aj\I DUMB BOY’S EXPLANA-
T IO .-—-The following question was
put in writing to a boy in the deaf and
dumb school at Paris : “What is eter-
nity ?” He wrote as an answer, “ It is
the lifetime of the Almighty.”
(2')) THE TROUBLESOME WORD.
-——A lady, having spent the afternoon
and evening at cards and in gay com-
pany, when she came home, found her
servant-maid reading a pious book.
She looked over her shoulders and said,
“ Poor melancholy soul! what pleasure
canst thou find in poring so long over
that book ’l” That night the lady could
not sleep, but lay sighing and weeping
very much. Her servant asked her
once and again what was the matter.
At length she burst out into a flood of
tears, and said, “ Oh I it is one word I
saw in your book that troubles me:
there I saw that word eternity. Oh how
happy should I be if I were prepared

for eternity I” The consequence of this
impression was, that she laid aside ner
cards, forsook her gay company, and
set herself seriously to prepare for
another world.
(e) A GOD——A MOMENT-AN
ETERNITY.—How sad it is that an
eternity so solemn and so near us should
impress us so slightly and should be so
much forgotten! A Christian travel-
ler tells us, that he saw the following
religious admonition on the subject of
eternity printed on a folio sheet, and
hanging in a public room of an inn in
Savoy; and it was placed, he under-
stood, in every house in the parish :—-
“ Understand well the force of the words
—-a God, a moment, an eternity. A
God who sees thee, a moment which
flies from thee, an eternity which awaits
thee. A God whom you serve so ill, a
moment of which you so little profit, an
eternity which you hazard so rashly."
I65. ETIQUETTE, UNDUE REGARD TO.
(a) SPANISH ETIQUETTE.-—
Philip the Third was gravely seated by
the fireside; the firemaker of the court
had kindled so great a quantity of wood
that the monarch was nearly suffocated
with heat, and his grandeur would not
suffer him to rise from tl chair; the
domestics could not presume to enter the

apartment, because it was against the
etzquette. At length the Marquis de
Pota appeared, and the king ordered
him to damp the fires; but he excused
himself, alleging that he was forbidden
by the etiquette to perform such a func-
tion, for which tle Duke d’Usseda
ought to be called upon, as it was his
316
EXAMPLE, CHRISTIAN.
165, 166

1—__ -——-
business. The duke was gone out, the
fire burned fiercer, and the king en-
dwed it rather than derogate from his
dignity ,' but his blood was heated to
such a degree ; that an erysipelas of the
head appeared the next day, which, suc-
ceeded by a violent fever, carried him
off in 1621, in the twenty-fourth year
of his age.
The palace was once on fire; a sol-
dier, who knew the king’s sister was in
her apartment, and must inevitably have
been consumed in a few moments by
the flames, at the risk of his life rushed
in, and brought her highness safe out
in his arms; but the Spanish etiquette
was here wofully broken into! The
loyal soldier was brought to trial, and
as it was impossible to deny that he had
entered her apartment, the judges con-
demned him to die l The Spanish
princess, however. condescended, in con-
sideration of the circumstances, to par-
don the soldier, and very benevolently
saved his life!
(Z1) VICTIM OF ETIQUETTE.
—-The preposterous degree of etiquette
for which the court of Spain has always
been remarkable proved the ruin of one
166. EXAMPLE
(a) THE MINISTER AND THE
INF IDEL. The Rev. Mr. R. resided
in a house where an apprentice lived,
who was compelled to hear him preach
every Sabbath day, but who always re-
joiced when the services of the day were
over. He had been drawn into the
paths of infidelity, and cherished a ma-
lignant hatred to religion and its profes-
sors. He considered Mr. R. either as
a superior spirit in human form, or a

consummate hypocrite, whose exhibitions '
in the pulpit, and in private life, were
alike intended to deceive the spectators
for his own purposes. Our young
skeptic resolved, however, very close-
ly to watch his conduct. “ For several
years,” said he to the writer of this pa-
oer, “I watched him with incessant
Vigilance. My opportunities of know-
mg his character were such as occur
in the variety and minutiae of domestic

of the most illustrious of Spaniards, in
the person of the Duke of Qssuna. He
was viceroy of Naples, and greatly re-
nowned for his talents as a soldier and
a statesman. In consequence of some
calumnious reports, he was called to
court to give an account of his admi-
nistration; and on presenting himself
to the king, being troubled with the
gout and of short stature, he carried,
for matter of convenience, his sword in
his hand. His majesty, it seems. did
not like this sword-in-hand style of ap-
proaching him, and, turning his back
on Ossuna, left the room without speak-
ing. The duke, probably HIICOIISCIOLL:
of the cause of the king’s displeasure,
was much incensed at this treatment,
and was overheard to mutter, " This
comes of serving boys.” The words
being reported to his majesty, an order
was given for Ossuna’s arrest. He
was committed prisoner to a monastery
not far from Madrid, and there he con-
tinued till his beard reached his girdle.
Growing then very ill, he was per-
mitted to go to his house at Madrid,
where he died about the year 1622.
, CHRISTIAN.
life and family transactions; but his
temper, and conduct, and speech, and
devotion, were only beautiful represen-
tations of the same object——all having
one character, and that stamped upon
them by Heaven. I began to admire,
rather than love him, until a circum-
stance occurred that produced an in-
delible impression upon my mind. My
apprenticeship was just out, and in a
few days I was to set off to a situation
in London. He seized an occasion of
calling me into his room, warned me of
the dangers which I should meet in the
metropolis, told me of the duty of pray.
er, and the pleasures of piety, put into
my hands as a parting present, “Dod-
ridge’s Rise and Progress,” and, kneel-
ing down, commended me fervently to
the grace of God, and the guidance of
infinite wisdom. This united me to
the man for ever. I went to London
317
I66
EXAMPLE, CHRIS FIAN .

under the impressions he had made on
my mind; did not give way to compa-
ny, nor launch out into dissipation, but
attended the house of God with some-
thing like regularity. And a sermon,
which I heard Mr. S. preach when he
had been recently brought back from
the gates of death, was the means of
awakening me to a sense of my danger,
and of directing me to the cross.”
Many persons, whom we do not suspect,
are watching our temper and general
conversation, and the convictions which
they receive will tell on their future
principles and final destiny. Our Lord
knew the power of example was far be-
yond precept, when he said to his dis-
ciples, “Ye are the salt of the earth,”
—“ ye are the light of the world.”
Happy are those ministers who can use
the same reference as the apostle: “Be
ye followers of me, even as I also am
of Christ,” 1 Cor. xi. 1.
(la) PETERBOROUGH AND
FENELON.—When Lord Peterbo-
rough lodged for a season with F enelon,
Archbishop of Cambray, he was so de-
lighted with his piety and virtue, that
he exclaimed at parting, “If I stay
here any longer, I shall become a
Christian in spite of myself.”
(0) IRREFUTABLE ARGUMENT.
-Mr. Inncs, in his work on Domestic
Religion, mentions a fact strikingly il-
lustrative of the power of consistent con-
duct. A young man, when about to be
ordained as a Christian minister, stated,
that at one period of his life he had been
nearly betrayed into the principles of
infidelity; “ but,” he added, “ there
was one argument in favor of Christian-
ity, which I could never refute-—the
consistent conduct of my own father!”
(cl) THE MOTHER’S CONFES-
SlON.——Children, says the Rev. W.
Jay, have conveyed religion to those
from whom they ought to have derived
it. "Well,” said a mother one day,
weepmg, her daughter being about to
make a public profession of religion by
going to the Lord’s table, “I will resist
no longer How can I bear to see my
dear child love and read the Scriptures,
While I never look into the Bible-to
_.'--.._ -_-¢---p w n~ "
see her retire and seek God, while i
never pray——to see her going to the
Lord’s table, while his death is nothing
to me !” “ Ah,” said she to the minis-
ter who called to inform her of her
daughter’s intention, wiping her eyes ;
“ yes, sir, I know she is right, and I ane
wrong—I ha\ e seen her firm under re
preach, and patien. -mder provocation,
and cheerful in all her sufferings. VVhen.
in her late illness, she was looking for
dissolution, heaven stood in her face.
Oh that I was as fit to die! I ought to
have taught her, but I am sure she has
taught me. How can I bear to see her
joining the church of G00, and leaving
me behind—-perhaps for ever!”
From that hour she prayed in earnest,
that the God of her child would be her
God, and was soon seen walking with
her in the way everlasting.
(6) success WITH THE IM 2
PEN ITEN T.-—It is said of a folkwer
of Christ who lived many years ago rn
I/Vestern N ew-York, that she had prob-
ably been instrumental in the conver-
sion of more sinners /than any minister
in the same region of country. She
was once asked how it was that she,
while she was in the habit of speaking
to every class of individuals, always
spoke with effect without giving offence.
Her reply was this : “ Whenever
such an individual comes within the
circle of my influence, I at once set
my heart upon saying and doing
what I can to secure his salvation.
As soon as a fit opportunity presents,
my plan is to converse with him on the
‘things which concern his peace.’ As
preparatory to such an event, my aim
is to order my entire deportment in his
presence so that what I say shall be im-
pressed upon his heart and conscience
by all that he has previously seen I1
me.” Here was the secret of her pow
er. VVhat was spoken was always in
time, and rendered like “ apples of gold
in pictures of silver,” by its correspond-
ence with her entire character. It is in
place for the truly good to urge the
practice of goodness upon all around
them. Nor is it fitting in any others to
engage in this hallowed employment.
3'8
EXPERIENCE, CHRISTIAN.
I67, 168

EXPERIENCE, CHRISTIAN.
157. Effect of relating, rte
(a) THE CAPTAIN AND THE
INFIDEL.-—A few years ago, on a
voyage to the west of America, a
young man sauntering on deck ob-
serving one of the sailors more sedate
than his companions, stepped up to him,
and abruptly asked him: “ George, are
you not a Christian?” His counte-
nance brightened up as he replied : “ I
trust that I am; I think I can testify to
the goodness of God in giving his Son
to die for me.” The manner in which
he uttered this sentence interested his
companion, who requested to know his
history. His reply in substance was as
follows‘
“I have always been a sailor. My
father was a sailor before me. My
mother was a pious woman; and when-
ever I went on shore to see her she used
to say a great many things to me about
my soul. I paid no attention to them;
but lived as though I had no soul. I
was a fool, as I said in my heart,
‘ There is no God.’ Boldly did I pro-
fane his name. Thus I went on from
year to year, till I entered a ship that
was under a pious captain. He was a
good man, and did much for the good of
his crew. He read the Scriptures to
us, and prayed with us. After some
time, however, I began to tremble. The
word of God convinced me of sin, and of
righteousness, and of judgment to come.
I saw my danger, and felt it, too. My
sins came up before me, and appeared
as mountains that must for ever separate
me from peace and happiness. I was a
miserable man, and thought I must al-
ways he so. At last I opened my heart
to the captain. He felt for me, and told
me of the mercy of God in Christ Jesus.
With tears in his eyes he directed me
to behold the Lamb of God which taketh
away the sin of the world. My heart
broke. Tears of penitence ran down
my cheeks ; my faith took hold on the
Son of God.”

At this time the young man who hid
elicited the narrative was not truly re-
ligious. The narrative of the sailor,
given with simplicity and deep emotion,
went to his heart and brought him to
the feet of the Savior. He soon after
publicly professed his faith in Christ.
(1)) THE LAWYER AT THE
LOVE-FEAST.--The simple relation
of Christian experience always produces
a powerful effect upon the hearers.
Revivals of religion are often greatly
promoted by this means. Some years
ago, a young lawyer in Vermont, found
his way into a Methodist love-feast.
Supposing that he should hear some
strange things there, he went prepared
to take notes. At the close of the meet
ing, he arose, and addressed the asser -
bly as follows: “ My friends, I hold in
my hands the testimony of no less than
sixty persons, who have spoken here,
this morning, who all testify with one
consent, that there is a divine reality '
in religion, they having experienced its
power in their own hearts. Many of
these persons I know. Their word would
be received in any court of justice. Lie,
they would not, I know; and mistaken
they cannot all be. Ihave heretofore
been skeptical in relation to these mat-
ters. I now tell you that I am fully
convinced of the truth, and that I intend
to lead a new life. Will you pray for
me '2” Thus while we “ speak that which
we do know, and testify to that which
we have seen,” some will receive “ our
witness,” even if others do not.
168. Every where similar.
(a) GOD’S WVORK UNIVERSAL.
LY THE SAME.—The eminently pi-
ous and learned theologian, Dr. Living-
ston, related to me, (says, Dr. Alexan-
der,) not many years before his decease
a pleasing anecdote, which will serve to
illustrate the point under consideration,
and which I communicate to the public
more willingly, because I do not know
319
N3, [69
FAITH.
that he has left any reco d of it behind
him. VVhile a student at he University
of Utrecht, a number of pious persons,
from the town and among the students,
were accustomed to meet for free con-
versation on experimental religion, and
for prayer and praise, in a social capa-
city. On one of these occasions, when
the similarity of the exercises of the
pious, in all countries and ages, was the
subject of conversation, it was remarked
by one of the company, that there was
then present a representative from each
of the four quarters of the world. These
were Dr. Livingston, from America, a
young man from the Cape of Good Hope
in Africa, another student from one of
the Dutch possessions in the East Indies,
and many natives of Europe, of course.
It was therefore proposed, that at the
next meeting, the three young gentle-
men first referred to, together with an
eminently pious young nobleman of
Hohand, should each give a particular
narrative of the rise and progress of the
work of grace in his soul. The pro-

posal was universally acceptable; and
accordingly, a narrative was heard from
a native of each of the four quarters of
the globe—of their views and feel-
ings, of their trials and temptations, &c.
The result was highly gratifying to all
present; and I think Dr. Livingston
said, that it was generally admitted bv
those present, that they had never before
witnessed so interesting a scene.
(I2) JOHN NE‘/VTON AND MR
OCCAM.—VVhen Mr. Occam, the In
dian preacher, was in England, he
visited Mr. Newton of London, and
they compared experiences. “ Mr.
Occam,” says Mr. Newton, “in des-
cribing to me the state of his heart,
when he was a blind idolater, gave me,
in general, a striking picture of what
my own was in the early part of my
life ; and his subsequent views corres-
pond with mine, as face answers to face
in a glass, though I dare say, when he
received them, he had never heard of
Calvin’s name.”
FAITH.
169. Nature of Faith.
(a) WHAT W'E ARE TO BE-
LIEVE.—-Rev. Mr. P., of New-York,
when settled in B , N. Y., was
called to see a young lady on the brink
of the grave. In the course of the con-
versation he says, “I inquired, ‘ Do you
not feel that you are a great sinner be-
fore God ?’ Bursting into an agony of
tears and raising her attenuated hands,
she cried, ‘ Oh ! yes, that is all that
pains me. Oh, I have been such a sin-
ner, and God has been so good to me—-
Christ so good, and I have sinned so
much!’
“ Being satisfied that she was sincere-
ly penitent for sin, I spoke of the atone-
ment of Christ——its necessity and nature
and terms, and ask"1 her if she could see
in that plan to save, . at there was room
for her. ‘No, not for me, Iam such
a sinner,’ she said, and the fresh tor-
rents of tears attested the sincerity of
her confession. Then I told her of the


love of Jesus, and besought her by the
dying compassion of the Son of God, to
believe in his name. But still she re-
fused to trust herself in his hands.
Making one more effort, said I, ‘Per-
haps you do not understand precisely
what you are to believe. You say,
that you think that Christ is willing to
save unto the uttermost all that come
unto God, repenting of their sins. You
say that you repent. Now, trusting
with all your heart in the premises
which he has made, believe that he is
willing to save you.’
“A smile as from heaven played on
her pale cheek, as she exclaimed, ‘Is
that it '2’ and trusting in Christ, she
found joy. Lingering for many weeks
afterwards, her faith never wavered;
her views of divine things grew brighter
and brighter; her confidence in God,
deeper and stronger ; and as death ap
proached, she welcomed his coming '4
of a friend.
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NECESSITY OF FAITH.
169, 1'70

—_q_-—
(l)) THE SAILOR’S EXPLANA-
TlON.—-Mr. Stewart, in his Journal
of a Residence in the Sandwich Islands,
relates that whilst on board a ship sail-
ing from America to those islands, he
felt it his duty to instruct the sailors;
and he had seve ral proofs that his labors
were not in vain. One sailor, named
R , had been brought to trust in
Christ ft * salvation ; and, shortly after,
meeting with another who was anxious-
ly inquiring the way of salvation, he
thus addressed him: “It was just so
with myself once ; I did not know what
faith Was, or how to obtain it; but I
know now what it is, and I believe I
possess it. But I do not know thatl
can tell you what it is, or how to get it.
I can tell you what it is not : it is not
knocking off swearing, and drinking,
and such like ; and it is not reading the
Bible, nor praying, nor being good: it
is none of these ; for even if they would
answer for the time to come, there is
the old score still, and how are you to
get clear of that ? It is not any thing
you have done or can do : it is only be-
lieving and trusting to what Christ has
done; it is forsaking your sins, and
looking for their pardon and the salva-
tion of your soul, because he died and
shed his blood for sin; and it is nothing
else.” The most learned divine could
not have given a more simple or scrip-
tural exposition of this important
subject, or one better adapted to carry
conviction to the heart. The simplest
terms are the most difficult of explana-
tion, While the unsophisticated feelings
of genuine piety find a ready response
in every awakened mind.
(0) A VENTURESOME BELIEV-
IN G.—-The Rev. John Butterworth, a
minister of England, speaking of his
religious experiences, says, “ One day
as I was reading in a book called the
‘Marrow of Modern Divinity,’ a sen-
tence from Luther was quoted, which
was this, ‘I would run into the arms
of Christ, if he stood with a drawn sword
in his hand.’ This thought came bolt-
ing into my mind——-‘ so will I too 2’ and
those words of Job occurred-—‘ Though
he slay me, yet will I trust him.’ My
burden dropped ofi'; my soul was filled
with joy and peace through believing


in Christ; a venturesome believing, as
Mr. Belcher calls it, was the means of
setting me at liberty; nor have I ever
been in such perplexity, respecting my
interest in Christ, since that time ; though
I have had various trials in other re-
s ects.”
P (d) NOTHING BUT TRUE
FAITH.——A good man was consider-
ably harassed as to the nature of true
faith, and very properly resolved to ask
the assistance of his minister. Going
to his house, he stated that his fears had
been great, that he had sinned beyond
the reach of mercy; but that while he
was thinking on the subject that portion
of Scripture was suggested to his mind,
“ The blood of Jesus Christ his Son
cleanseth us from all sin,” and that
resting on this truth, he had lost all his
anxiety. The minister very properly
told him that this was nothing else than
true faith.
170. Necessity of Faith.
(a) LUTHER ON PILATE’S
STAIRCASE.—For some time after
the light of truth began to dawn on the
mind of Luther, he submitted to all the
vain practices which the Romish church
enjoins in order to purchase the remis-
sion of sins. One day during his visit
to Rome, wishing to obtain an indul-
gence promised by the pope to any one
who should ascend on his knees what
is called Pilate’s Staircase, the poor
Saxon monk was slowly climbing those
steps, which they told him had been
miraculously transported from Jerusa-
lem to Rome. But while he was going
through with his meritorious work he
thought he heard a voice like thunder
speaking from the depth of his heart,
“the just shall live by fa\ith.” He
started up in terror on the steps up
which he had been crawling; he was
horrified at himself; and struck with
shame for the degradation to which su-
perstition had bebased him, he fled from
the scene of his folly. This was the
decisive epoch in the inward life of Lu-
ther.
(b) THE FARMER’S FAlTH.—-
A king of Sweden was under great im-
pressions of spiritual religion for some
time before his death. A peasant being
21
321
170,171
FAITH.
once, on a particular occasion, admitted
to his presence, the king, knowing him
to be a person of singular piety, asked
him, “ What he took to be the tr ue na-
ture of faith ?” The peasant entered
deeply into the subject, and much to
the king’s comfort and satisfaction. The
king, at last, lymg on his death-bed, had
a return of his doubts and fears as to
the safety of his soul ; and still the same
question was perpetually in his mouth,
to those about him, “ “ What is real
faith ?” His attendants advised him to
send for the Archbishop of Upsall : who,
coming to the king’s bedside, began in
a learned, logical manner, to enter into
the scholastic definition of faith. The
prelate’s disquisition lasted an hour.
When he had done the king said with
much energy, “All this is ingenious,
but not comfortable; it is not what I
want. Nothing, after all, but the far-
mer’s faith will do for me.”
(0) RIDDLE’S DYING TESTI-
ll/IONY.—-Mr. Edward Riddle, an aged
Christian in Hull, remarked, a few days
before his death. to one present, “ Some
may suppose, that a person at my time
of life, and after so long making a pro-
fession of religion, has nothing to do but
to die and go to heaven ; but I find that
I have as much need to go to God,
through Christ, as a sinner, at the last
hour as at the beginning. The blood
of Christ, the death of Christ, his victory
and fulness, are my only ground of
faith, hope, and confidence; there is
the same need of him to be the Finisher
of my faith, as there was to be the
Author of it.”
(d) DODDRIDGE’S RIGHTEOUS-
NESS.-—“ My confidence is,” said the
pious Dr. Doddridge shortly before his
death, “not that I have lived such or
such a life, or served God in this or the
other manner; I know of no prayer I
ever offered, no service I ever perform-
ed, but there has been such a mix-
ture of what was wrong in it, that
instead of recommending me to the
favor of God, I needed his pardon,
through Christ, for the same. Yetl am
full of confidence ; and this is my con-
fidence-there is a hope set before me:
I have fled, I still fly, for refuge. to that
bone.”

(e) MRS. JUDSON’S EXPERI-
ENCE.—“ It is just a year this day,"
says Mrs. Judson, “since I enter-
tained hope in Christ. About this
time in the evening, when reflecting on
the words of the lepers, ‘If we enter
into the city, then the famine is in the
city, and we shall die there; and if we
sit still here, we die also ;’ and felt
that if I returned to the world, I should
surely perish; if I staid where I then
was, I should perish ; and I could
but perish, if Ithrew myself on the
mercy of Christ. Then came light,
and relief, and comfort, such as I never
knew before.”
(f) PAYSON’S HAPPlNESS.—-
“Christians might avoid much trouble
and inconvenience,” says Dr. Payson,
“if they would only believe what they
profess—that God is able to make them
happy without any thing else. They
imagine, if such a dear friend were to
die, or such and such blessings to be
removed, they should be miserable;
whereas God can make them a thousand
times happier without them. To men-
tion my own case,-—God has been de-
priving me of one blessing after another;
but as every one was removed, he has
come in, and filled up its place; and
now, when I am a cripple, and not able
to move, I am happier than everl was in
my life before, or ever expected to be ;
and if I had believed this twenty years
ago, I might have been spared much
anxiety.”
(g) I AM ON THE ROCK.-—
One day a female friend called on the
Rev. William Evans, a pious minister
in England, and asked how he felt him-
self. “I am weakness itself,” he re-
plied; “ but I am on the Rock. Ido
not experience these transports which
some have expressed in the view of
death; but my dependence is on the
mercy of God in Christ. Here my re.
ligion began, and here it must end.”
171. Example of Faith.
(a) CHALLENGING THE PROM.
ISES.—Mr. John Avery, a minister,
having been driven from his native
country by the persecution of Arch-
bishop Laud, fled to New England
322
TRIUMPHS OF FAITH.
l‘2'9
Upon his arrival, he settled for a short
time at Newbury; but, receiving an
invitation to Marblehead, he determined
upon a removal to that place. Having
embarked in a small vessel, together
with Mr. Anthony Thacker, another
worthy minister, there arose a tremen-
dous storm, by which the vessel struck
against a rock, and was dashed to
pieces. The whole company, consist-
mg of twenty-three persons, got upon
the rock, but were successively washed
r>ff and drowned, except Mr. Thacker
and his wife. Mr. Thacker and Mr.
Avery held each other by the hand a
long time, resolving to die together, till,
by a tremendous wave, the latter was
washed away, and drowned. The mo-
ment before this happened, he lifted up
his eyes to heaven, saying, “We know
not what the pleasure of God may be.
I fear we have been too unmindful of
former deliverances. Lord, I cannot
challenge a promise of the preservation
of my life; but thou hast promised to
deliver us from sin and condemnation,
and to bring us safe to heaven, through
the all-sufl-icient satisfaction of Jesus
Christ. This, therefore, I do challenge
of thee.” He had no sooner uttered
these words, than he was swept into the
mighty deep, and no more seen. Mr.
Thacker and his wife were also washed
off the rock; but, after being tossed in
the waves for some time. the former
was cast on shore, where he found his
wife a sharer in the deliverance.
17%. Triumphs of Faith.
(6!) CASE or REV. DR. AIL-
MER.—This excellent man was rector
of Much Hadham, Herts., and died in
I625, heroically closing his own eye-
lids, and with these words on his lips ;
“ Let my people know that their pastor
died undaunted, and not afraid of death I I
bless my God, I have no fear, no doubt, no
reluctance, but a sure confidence in the
sin-overcoming merits of Jesus Christ.”
(12) CASE OF BISHOP BUTLER.
—When this eminent prelate lay on his
dying bed, he called for his chaplain,
and said, “ Though I have endeavored
to avoid sin and please God to the ut-
most of my power, yet, from the con-

sciousness of perpetual infirmities, I am
still afraid to die.’ ’
“ My lord,” said the chaplain, “ you
have forgotten that Jesus Christ is a
Savior.”
“ True,” was the answer, “ but
how shall I know that he is a Savior for
me '2”
“ My lord, it is written, ‘ Him that
cometh to me I will in no wise cast
out.’ ”
“ True,” said the bishop, “ and I am
surprised that, though I have read that
Scripture a thousand times over, I never
felt its virtue till this moment ; and now
I die happy i”
(c) A ROCK TO REST ON.-—
The Rev. John Rees, of Crown-Street,
Soho, London, was visited on his death-
bed by the Rev. John Leifchild, who
very seriously asked him to describe
the state of his mind. This appeal to
the honor of his religion roused him ; it
freshened his dying lamp, and raising
himself up in his bed he looked his
friend in the face, and with great de-
liberation, energy, and dignity, uttered
the following words :—“ Christ in his
person, Christ in the love of his heart,
and Christ in the power of his arm is the
Rock on which I rest; and now (re-
clining his head gently on the pillow)
death, strike I”
(ti) VENTURING ON CHRIST.
—-The Rev. Dr. Simpson was for many
years tutor in the college at Hoxton,
and while he stood very low in his own
esteem, be ranked high in that of others.
After a long life spent in the service of
Christ, he approached his latter end with
holy joy. Among other expressions
which indicated his love to the Re-
deemer, and his interest in the favor of
God, he spoke with disapprobation of a
phrase often used by some pious people,
“ Venturing on Christ.” “ VVhen,”
said he, “ I consider the infinite dignity
and all-sufliciency of Christ, I am
ashamed to talk of venturing on him.
Oh, had I ten thousand souls. I would,
at this moment, cast them all into his
hands with the utmost confidence.” A
few hours before his dissolution, he ad-
dressed himself to the last enemy, in a
strain like that of the apostle, when he
exclaimed, “ O death, where is thy
O
323
172
FAIT
sting?’ Displaying his characteristic
fervor, as though he saw the tyrant ap-
proaching, he said, “What art then’?
I am not afraid of thee. Thou art a
vanquished enemy through the blood of
the cross.”
(e) ACKNOVVLEDGMENT OF
STAUPIClUS.——Luther relates con-
cerning one Staupicius, a German di-
vine, that he acknowledged that before
he came to understand the free and
powerful grace of Christ, he resolved,
and vowed a hundred times against a
particular sin; yet could never get
power over it, nor his heart purified
from it, till he came to see that he trust-
ed too much to his own resolutions, and
too little to Jesus Christ; but when his
faith had engaged against his sin, he ob-
tained the victory.
f) I HAVE SO LEARNED
CHRIST.-——Of Mr. Stephen Marshall,
an eminent divine of the 17th century,
Mr. Giles Firman, who knew him in
life, and attended him in death, says,
“ That he left behind him few preachers
like himself; that he was a Christian in
practice as well as profession; that he
lived by faith, and died by faith, and
was an example to the believers, in
word, in conversation, in charity, in
faith, and in purity. And when he,
together with some others, conversed
with him about his death, he replied, ‘I
cannot say as one did, I have not so
lived that I should now be afraid to die ;
but this I can say, I have so learned
Christ, that I am not afraid to die.’ ”
(g) COVVPER’S VIEI/V OF
DEATI-I.--“I have not time to add
more,” says Cowper the poet, in a let-
ter,’ “ except just to add, that if I am
ever enabled to look forward to death
with comfort, which I thank God is
sometimes the case with me, I do not
take my view of it from the top of my
own works and deservings, though God
is witness that the labor of my life is to
keep a conscience void of offence to-
ward him. Death is always formidable
to me except when see him disarm-
ad of his sting by having sheathed it
in the body of Jesus Christ.”
(h) VVATTS AND THE PRO-
MISES.--The faith of Dr. Watts in the
nromises of God was lively and un-

shaken. “I believe them enough,”
said he, “to venture an eternity on
them.” To a religious friend, at ano-
ther time he thus expressed himself : “ I
remember an aged minister used to say,
that the most learned and knowing
Christians, when they come to die, have
only the same plain promises for their
support, as the common and unlearned ,
and so,” continued he, “I find it. It
is the plain promises of the gospel that
are my support: and I bless God, they
are plain premises, which do not re-
quire much labor and pains to under-
stand them; for I can do nothing new
but look into my Bible for some pro-
mise to support me, and live upon that.”
(2') DEATH OF JOHN HUSS.—-
When John Huss, the Bohemian martyr,
was brought out to be burnt, they put
on his head a triple crown of paper,
with painted devils on it. On seeing
it, he said, “ My Lord Jesus Christ, for
my sake, wore a crown of thorns ; why
should not I then, for his sake, wear
this light crown, be it ever so ignomi-
nious’.Z Truly I will do it, and that
willingly.” When it was set upon his
head, the bishops said, “ Now, we com-
mend thy soul to the devil.” “ But I,’ ’
said Huss, lifting up his eys to heaven.
“ do commit my spirit into thy hands,
O Lord Jesus Christ; to thee I com-
mend my spirit, which thou hast redeem-
ed.” When the fagots were piled up
to his very neck, the Duke of Bavaria
was oificious enough to desire him to
abjure. “No,” said Huss, “I never
preached any doctrine of an evil ten-
dency ; and what I taught with my lips
I now seal with my blood.”
A NOBLE REPLY.-—In the
reign of Charles II, Margaret Wilson,
a girl of eighteen, along with an aged
widow of sixty-three, was adjudged to
die, because she refused to acknowledge
the supremacy of any other than Christ
in the church. The sentence pronounc-
ed against them was, that they should
be fastened to stakes driven deep into
tae oozy sand that covers the beach,
and left to perish in the rising tide.
The stake to which the aged female was
fastened was further down the beach
than that of the young woman, in order
that, being soonest destroyed, her ex-
324
FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN.

‘---—-
piring sufferings might shake the firm-
ness of faith of Margaret Wilson. The
tide began to flow—the waters swelled ;
they mounted from the knee to the
waist, and from the waist to the chin,
and from the chin to the lip of the
venerable matron, and when she was
almost stifled by the rising tide, when
the bubbling groan of her last agony
was reaching her fellow-sufferer further


1'73
up the beach, one heartless ruffian
put to Margaret Wilson the question,
“ What think you of your friend now ?”
And what was the calm and noble re-
ply’.Z “What do I see but Christ in
one of his members wrestling there?
Think you that we are the sufferers.Z
N o, it is Christ in us—He who sendeth
us not a warfare upon our own charges.”
173. FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN.
(a) DEATH PREFERRED TO LY-
ING.—.Ierome writes of a brave woman,
who being upon the rack, bade her per-
secutors do their worst, for she was re-
solved to die rather than lie.
(b) FIRMNESS OF ARETHUSUS.
-—In the reign of Constantine7 there
was one Marcus Arethusus, an eminent
servant of God, who had been the cause
of overthrowing an idol temple; but
Julian coming to be Emperor, com-
manded the people of that place to build
it up again. All were ready to do so,
only he refused it; whereupon his own
people, to whom he had preached, fell
upon him, stript off his clothes, then
abused his naked body, and gave it up
to children and school-boys to be lanced
with their penknives; but when all this
would not do, they caused him to be set
in the sun, his naked body anointed all
over with honey, so that he might be
bitten and stung to death by flies and
wasps. All this cruelty they exercised
upon him because he would not do any
thing towards rebuilding that idol tem-
ple. Nay, they came so far, that if he
would give but one half-penny towards
the charge they would release him. But
with a noble Christian disdain, he refused
the offer, tnough the advancing of one
half penny might have saved his life. In
so doing he only lived up to that prin-
ciple so much commended and so little
practised ; that Christians should en-
dure the greatest sufi'erings, rather than
commit the least sins.
(C) PRINCE OF conmt AND
CHARLES IX.--The prince of Condé
being taken prisoner by Charles IX,
king of France, and put to his choice

whether he would go to mass or .e put
to death, or suffer perpetual imprison-
ment, his noble answer was, that. by
God’s help he would never do t'-e nrst,
and for either of the latter he left it to
the king’s pleasure and God’s provi-
dence.
(d) KAPIOLANPS CONTEHPT
OF THE GODDESS.—Owyhee is an
island very remarkable for its volcanoes.
One of these, named Peli, was long the
object of religious worship by the na-
tives, who believed it to be the residence
of their gods. This worship has ceased.
It has been abolished by the Christian
courage of a female of rank, named
Kapiolani. She proceeded fearlessly to
Peli, accompanied by many friends and
dependents. At the first precipice a
number of them became alarmed and
turned back. At the second, the rest
earnestly entreated her to desist from
her dangerous enterprise, and to tempt
no further the powerful gods of the
fires. But she proceeded, saying, “I
will descend into the crater, and if I do
not return safe, then continue to worship
Peli; but if I come back unhurt, you
must learn to adore the God that created
Peli.” With unhesitating step she
reached the gloomy abyss, stirred the
fiery lake, and completed an achieve-
ment seldom equalled in the annals of
magnanimity. VVhen she pushed the
stick into the glowing lava, the idolatrous
natives expected to see her instantly fall
a sacrifice to their insulted goddess. Her
safety effectually convinced them of
their folly.
(e) FIRMNESS OF VARIOUS
MAR'l‘YRS.—-Cyprian, when on his
325
173
FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN.

road to sufl'er martyrdom, was told by
the emperor, that he would give him
time to consider whether he had not
better cast a grain of incense mto the
fire, in honor of idols, than die so de-
graded a death. The martyr nobly
answered, “ There needs no deliberation
in the case.”
John Hues was offered a pardon when
at the stake, about to suffer for his at-
tachment to Christ, if he would recant;
his reply was, “I am here ready to suf-
fer death.”
Anne Askew, when asked under simi-
lar circumstances to avoid the flames,
answered, “I came not here to deny my
God and Master.”
Mr. Thomas Hawkes, an Essex gen-
tleman, said, on a like occasion, “If I
had a hundred bodies, I would suffer
them all to be torn in pieces, rather than
recant.” '
When the cruel Bonner told John
Ardly of the pain connected with burn-
ing, and how hard it must be to endure
it, with a view of leading the martyr to
recant, he replied, “ If I had as many
lives as I have hairs on my head, I
would lose them all in the fire, before I
would lose Christ.”
Galeazius, a gentleman of great
wealth, who suflfered martyrdom at St.
Angelo, in Italy, being much entreated
by his friends to recent, replied, “ Death
is much sweeter to me with the testimo-
ny of truth, than life with its least de-
nial.”
THE POTTER AND HENRY
III.—Bernard de Palissy, a native of
Agen, in France, was a maker of earthen-
ware, at Saintes, and distinguished him-
self by his knowledge and talents. He
was a Calvinist, and the French king,
Henry III, said to him one day, that he
should be compelled to give him up to
his enemies, unless he changed his re-
ligion. “You have often said to me,
, sire,” was the undaunted reply of De
Palissy, “ that you pitied me ; but as for
me, I pity you, who have given utterance
to such words as, ‘ I shall be compelled.’
These are unkingly words ; and I say
to you in royal phrase, that neither the
Guises, nor all your people, nor your-
self, are able to compel an humble
manufacturer of earthenware to bend

~---vp~'
his knee before statues.” Bernard
was a man of humor, as well as of cour-
age ; and he would sometimes say, al-
luding to his trade, and his trust in
Providence, “ My only property is
heaven and earth.”
(g) THE PRAYING NEGRO.—-
Mr. Knibb relates the following cir-
cumstances relative to David, a deacon
of his church :-—-A few years ago, one
of the slave members belonging to the
Baptist church, at Montego Bay, was
banished from his home, and sent to the
estate where David lived, to be cured of
his praying. By the pious conversation
of this exiled Christian negro, David
was brought under serious concern for
his soul, which ended in his conversion
to God. David spoke to his fellow
slaves about Jesus, and his love in
dying for poor sinners. God, Who de
spises not the humblest instruments,
blessed the efforts of this poor negro,
and, in a short time, about thirty on the
estate began to pray, and at length
built a small hut, in which, after the
labors of the day, they might assem-
ble and worship God. Tidings of these
things reached the ears of the white
persons employed on the estate, and
David was summoned before his attor-
ney, and asked whether he was teach-
ing the slaves to pray. On replying in
the affirmative, the hut Was demolished
and burnt, and David was stretched
upon the earth, and flogged with the
cart-whip till his flesh was covered with
blood. Next Lord’s day I missed my
faithful deacon at the house of God.
His afliicted wife came, and told me the
sad tale of his sufferings, and informed
me that his hands were bound, and his
feet made fast in the stocks. Often did
I inquire after him, and for him, and the
same answered was returned, “ Massa,
him in the stocks :” till one morning,
as I sat in my piazza, he appeared be-
fore the window. There he stood——I
have his image now before me—-he was
handcuffed, barefoot, unable to wear
his clothes from his yet unhealed back;
his wife had fastened some of her gar-
ments round his lacerated body. I
called him in, and said,
“ David. David, what have you
done '2”
326
FIRMNESS, CHRISTIAN.
"I M
v1
VVith a look of resignation I shall
never forget, he replied,
“ Don’t ask me ; ask him that bring
me, massa.”
Turning to the negro who had him
in charge, I said,
“Well, what has this poor man
done '2”
“ Him pray, massa,” was the reply ;
“and buckra send him to the work-
house for punishment.”
I gave him some refreshment, (for in
the state I have described he had walk-
ed thirteen miles under a burning sun,)
and followed him to the work-house.
He was chained to a fellow-slave by the
neck, and sent to work on the public
roads. The next dayl went to visit
him again, when I was informed by the
supervisor of the work-house, that he
had received orders to have him flogged
again, as soon as his back was well
enough to bear it. In these chains
David remained for months ; frequently
I saw him, but never did I hear one
murmur or one complaint except When
he heard that the partner of his joys and
sorrows was ill on the estate, and he
was forbidden to go and see her.
At the end of three months he was
liberated, and, returning to the estate,
was asked,
“ N ow, sir, will you pray again '2”
“Massa,” said the persecuted disciple,
“ you know me is a good slave ; but, if
trouble come for dis, me must pray, and
me must teach me broder to pray too.”
Again he was immured in a dungeon
and his feet made fast in the stocks.
(It) NOT FOR HIS KINGDOM.-
The circumstances of the appointment
of Dr. Ken as Bishop of Bath and
Wells, were remarkable. King Charles
the Second was engaged in erecting
a palace at Winchester, and went down
with his usual a.tendants to that city.
One of the harbingers employed to ar-
range lodgings for the party, marked
out the doctor’s house, which he had in
right of nis prebend, for the temporary
residence of Mrs. Eleanor Gwynne.
The doctor, however, absolutely refused
her admittance, declaring that “ a
woman of ill repute was not to be en-
dured for a moment in the house of a
clergyman ;” and Mrs. G. was, in con-

173
sequence, compelled to seek an abode
elsewhere, to her own great inconven-
ience, and tne indignation of those who
urged the doctor to a compliance in the
king’s name; who, however, could ob-
tain no other reply than the short sen-
tence, “ N ot for his kingdom.” N 0
sooner, however, was application made
to King Charles on behalf of another,
for the bishopric of Bath and Wells,
which became vacant immediately after,
than the king promptly replied, “ VVho
shall have Bath and Wells, but the little
fellow who would not give poor Nelly a
lodging?” Dr. Ken was, in conse-
quence, appointed to the vacant see in
the commencement of 1684.
(2') CALVIN AND ECKIUS.-
Eckius being sent by the Pope, legate
into France, upon his return took Ge-
neva in his way, on purpose to see Cal-
vin ; and if occasion presented, to
attempt reducing him to the Romish
church. Eckius went privately to Cal-
vin’s house and introduced himself as a
stranger who had heard much of his
fame, and was come to wait upon him.
Calvin invited him to come in, and he
entered the house with him; where,
discoursing of many things concerning
religion, Eckius perceived Calvin to be
an ingenuous and learned man, and
desired to know if he had not a garden
to walk in. To which Calvin replying
he had, they both went into it; and
there Eckius began to inquire of him,
why he left the Roman church, and
offered some arguments to persuade
him to return; but Calvin could by no
means be inclined to think of it. At
last Eckius told him that he would put
his life in his hands; and then said, he
was Eckius the Pope’s legate. At this
discovery Calvin was not a little sur-
prised, and begged his pardon that he had
not treated him with that respect which
was due to his quality. Eckius re-
turned the compliment, and told him if
he would come back to the Roman
church, he would certainly procure for
him a Cardinal’s cap. But Calvin was
not to be moved by such an offer.
Eckius then asked him what revenue he
had. He told the Cardinal he had that
house and garden, and fifty livres per‘
‘annum, besides an annual present of
327
I74, 175
F LATTERY—-FORBEARANCE.
_-_—_. _


some wine and corn ; on which he lived
very contentedly. Eckius told him,
that a man of his parts deserved a
greater revenue ; and then renewed his
invitation to come over to the Romish
church, promising him a better stipend
if he would. But Calvin, giving him
thanks, assured lnm ne was well satis-
fied with his condition.
Eckius accepted Calvir;1’s invitation to
dine with him ; and after dinner, at the
request of Eckius, they visited the
church which anciently was the cathe-
dral. On their way Eckius pressed upon

Calvin the present of a hundred pistoles
to buy him books and to express his re-
spect for him. But as they were coming
out of the church, Calvin stopped him a
little, and having explained to the per-
sons who accompanied tnem how he had
been presented by me stranger with a
purse of gold, he said he would give
it to the poor, and so deposited it in the
poor-box that was kept there I Eckius
was now convinced that all efforts to
secure the apostacy of Calvin would be
in vain, and made no further attemnt.
1'74. FLATTERY.
ta) BEAUTY AND VANITY.-
“ I once knew,” says Mr. Abbott,
“a little boy of unusually bright and
animated countenance. Every one who
entered the house noticed the child, and
spoke of his beauty. One day a gen-
tleman called upon business, and being
engaged in conversation, did not pay
that attention to the child to which he
was accustomed, and which he now
began to expect as his due. The vain
little fellow made many efiforts to at-
tract notice, but not succeeding, he
at last placed himself full in front of
the gentleman, and asked, ‘ Why don’t
you see how beautiful I be 9

(I2) THE MONARCH’S PROHIBI-
TION.—One of the first acts performed
by George III after his accession to
the throne, was to issue an order, pro-
hibiting any of the clergy who should
be called to preach before him, from
paying him any compliment in their
discourses. His majesty was led to
this from the fulsome adulation which
Dr. Thomas Wilson, Prebendary of
Westminster, thought proper to deliver
in the chapel royal; and for which, in-
stead of thanks, he received from his
royal auditor a pointed reprimand, his
majesty observing, “that he came to
chapel to hear the praises of God, and
not his own.”
1'75 FORBEARANCE.
(a) DR. W'ALL’S IN.IURERS.——
Dr. Wall, sometime Bishop of Nor-
more than a man who can manage them
with justice and innocence.”
wich, who was as humble and courteous ' (b) MAKING A DIFFERENCE.-
as he was learned and devout, used to Rev. Legh Richmond was once con-
say, “I would suffer a thousand wrongs . versing with a brother clergyman on
rather than do one; Iwould suffer a I the case of a poor man who had acted
hundred rather than return one; and I inconsistently with his religious pro-
endure many rather than complain of I fession. After some angry and severe
one, or obtain my right by contending: I remarks on the conduct of such per-
for I have always observed, that con- j sons, the gentleman with whom he was
tending with one’s superiors is foolish; discussing the case concluded by say-
with one’s equals, is dubious ; and with 2 ing, “I have no notion of such pre-
¢ne’s inferiors, is mean-spirited and I ;ences; I will have nothing to do with
sordid. Suits at law may be some- I him.” “Nay, brother, let us be hum-
times necessary, but he had need be jble and moderate. Remember who has
328
FORBEARANCE.
175
said, ‘ making a difference :’ with oppor-
tunity on the one hand, and Satan at the
other, and the grace of God at neither,
Where should you and I be Cl”
(0) ELIOT AND HIS BRETHREN.
—-The attachment of the Rev. John
Eliot, usually called “ the apostle to the
Indians,” to peace and union among
Christians was exceedingly great.
When he heard ministers complain that
some in their congregations were too
difficult for them, the substance of his
advice would be, “ Brother, compass
them i” “ Brother, learn the meaning of
those three little words-—-bear, forbear,
forgive.” His love of peace, indeed,
almost led him to sacrifice right itself.
(d) SOUTH SEA ISLANDERS.
—On February 2, 1817, Mr. Ellis, a
Christian missionary, and his compan-
ions, on their voyage to Tahiti, touched
at the island of Tubooi, to obtain pro-
visions. Two Europeans, who were on
the island, informed them that a canoe,
bound for Anaa, one of the Paumotu
islands, had recently touched at Tubooi,
being driven out of its course by the
northerly winds. The people on board
the canoe, forty in number, had been to
Tahiti, to receive instruction in Chris-
tianity, and were returning to their own
country. They were intelligent, peace-
able, and strict in their observance of
the Sabbath. They exerted their in-
fluence to persuade the natives of Tu-
booi to castaway their idols, telling them
of the one true God, and the Lord Jesus.
The natives, however, treated them as
enemies, destroyed their canoe, and for-
cibly took from them a musket. The
Christians, on being asked why they did
not resent these injuries, replied, that
had they been heathens, they would im-
mediately havc fought: but having be-
come Christians, they had embraced a
religion opposed to war, and they were
afraid of incurring the displeasure of
Jehovah by unnecessarily engaging in
it. Happy would it he were the inhab-
itants of the more civilized parts of the
world, who profess the Christian religion,
to imitate the conduct of the South Sea
lsl anders .
(e) EXAMPLE OF KILPIN.—-Mr.
Kilpin, of Bedford, father of the Rev.
S. Kilpin, of Exeter, was distinguished

for many Christian excellences. The
following anecdote is related in the
life of his son, in reference to his
Christian forbearance.
Passing up the street one evening, a
drunken man knocked Mr. Kilpin down,
and rolled him into the gutter, exclaim-
ing, “That’s the place for you, John
Bunyan !” The good man arose calmly,
and returning to his family, related the
circumstance; adding, that the honor
of bearing such a name had outweighed
the insult.
(f) CLAUDE AND THE PRI-
SON ER.—In the early part of the last
century, when a violent spirit of oppo-
sition to true piety raged in France, M.
de St. Claude, a man of eminent piety,
was imprisoned in the Bastile. At the
same time there was a man confined,
of so ferocious and brutal a disposition,
that no one dared to approach him.
He seldom spoke without a volley of
oaths and blasphemies, and struck every
one who approached him with the ut-
most violence. Every expedient to
humanize this monster had proved in
vain, when the governor entreated
Claude to undertake the work. His
humility would have induced him to de-
cline it, but persuasion prevailed.
Accordingly, the humble Christian
was shut up with this human brute,
who exhausted his ferocity in revilings,
blows, and yet more savage tokens of
the barbarity of his disposition. Whilst
this treatment continued, silence, pa-
tience, and mildness, were the only re-
ply of the man of God. His prayers
achieved the rest. The monster, at
length, looked on the face of his com-
panion; suddenly threw himself at his
feet, and embracing them, burst 111to a
flood of tears; entreating his forgive-
ness, and besought him to give him in-
struction in the religion which thus in-
fluenced his conduct. He became en-
tirely changed ; pious, meek, and cheer-
ful; and, even when his liberty was
given him, he could scarcely be pre-
vailed on to leave his Christian friend.
(gt THE couvnarso PRIZE.
FIGHTER.—-The Rev. Mr. Symes, a
Christian missionary in India, baptized
a soldier who had been a noted prize-
fighter, eminent in the ring in England,
329
175
FORBEARANCE.
a
a powerful, lion-looking, lion-hearted
man. With one blow he could level a
strong man to the ground. He was the
terror of many in the regiment. That
man, to use his own phrase, “saunter-
ed mto Mr. Symes’s chapel,” andl
heard the gospel, and was alarmed.|
He returned again and again, and a.
last light broke in upon his mind, and
he became a new creature. The
change in such a character was, of
course, marked and decisive: the lion
was changed into a lamb. Two months
after that, in the mess-room, some of
those who stood in awe of him before,
began to ridicule him. One of them
said, “ I’ll put it to the test whether he
is a Christian or not;” and taking a
basin of hot soup, he threw it into his
breast. The whole company gazed, in
breathless silence, expecting that the
lion would have started up, and mur-
dered him on the spot; but, after he
had torn open his waistcoat, and wiped
his scalded breast, he calmly turned
.ound, and said, “ This is what I must
expect : if I become a Christian, I must
suffer persecution.” His comrades
were filled with astonishment.
(h) BISHOP COWPER AND
HIS WIFE.—-Bishop Cowper’s wife, it
is said, was much afraid that her hus-
oand would prejudice his health by an
excess of study. \/Vhen he was com-
piling his celebrated dictionary, she got
into his study, during his absence, and
collected all the notes he had been
writing for eight years, and burned
them; and when she had acquainted
him with the fact, assured of the feeling
of kindness in which even this impro-
per act originated, he only remarked,
“ Woman, thou hast put me to eight
years’ study more.”
(i) COTTON MATHER’S LI-
BELS.—--Dr. Cotton Mather was re-
markable for the sweetness of his tem-

per. He took some interest in the poli-
lica concerns of his country ‘Inc 0.1.
this account, as well as because he
faithfully reproved iniquity, he had
many enemies. Many abusive letters
were sent him, all of which he tied up
in a packet, and wrote upon the cover,
“ Libels ;———Father forgive them.”
THE TWO STUDENTS.-—
Two students of one of our Universities
had a slight misunderstanding. One of
them was a warm-blooded Southron.
He conceived himself insulted, and be-
gan to demand satisfaction, according
to his perverse notions of honor. He
was met with a Christian firmness and
gentleness. The other calmly told his
excited fellow-student he could give
only Christian satisfaction in any case ;
that he was not conscious of having in-
tended him either injury or insult, and
that if he could be convinced he had
wronged him at all, he was willing to
make ample reparation. Fired with
chivalrous indignation for a few mo-
ments, he discharged a volley of re-
proachful epithets, and threatened to
chastise his cowardly insolence. But
nothing could move the other’s equani-
mity. Without the slightest indication
of fear or servility, he met his oppo-
nent’s violence with true heroism, de-
clared that they had hitherto been
friends, and he meant to maintain his
friendly attitude, however he might be
treated, and conjured the threatener to
consider how unworthy of himself his
present temper, language and conduct
were. His manner, look, words, tone,
had their effect. The flush of anger
turned to a blush of shame and com-
punction. The subdued Southron step-
ped frankly forward, reached forth his
trembling hand, and exclaimed-—“1
have 8 olsen and acted like a fool; can
you flrgive me ?” “With all my
heart,” was the cordial response. In-
stantly they were locked in each other’s
embrace ; reconciliation was complete ;
and they were evermore fast friends.
330
F ORGIVENESS OF INJURIES.
176
176. FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES.
(a) PHILIP AND THE AMBAS-
SADOR.—Philip, king of Macedon, dis-
covered great moderation, even when he
was spoken to in shocking and injurious
terms. At the close of an audience
which he gave to some Athenian am-
bassadors who were come to complain
of some act of hostility, he asked
whether he could do them any service.
“The greatest service thou couldst do
us,” said Demochares, “ would be to
hang thysefi.” Philip, though he per-
ceived al the persons present were high-
ly ofi'ended at these words, answered with
the .utmost calmness of temper, “ Go,
tell your superiors, that those who dare
make use of such insolent language, are
more haughty, and less peaceably in-
clined than those who can forgive them.”
(Z2) CRANMER AND THE TRAI-
TORS.—-Archbishop Cranmer appear-
ed almost alone, in the higher classes,
as the friend of truth in evil times, and
a plot was formed to take away his life.
The providence of God, however, so or-
dered it, that the papers which would
have completed the plan were intercept-
ed, and traced to their authors, one of
whom lived in the archbishop’s family,
and the other he had greatly served.
He took these men apart in his palace,
and told them that some persons in his
confidence had disclosed his secrets, and
even accused him of heresy. They
loudly censured such villany, and de-
clared the traitors to be worthy of death ;
one of them adding, that if an execu-
tioner was wanted, he would perform
the office himself. Struck with their
perfidy, after lifting up his voice to
heaven, lamenting the depravity of man,
and thanking God for his preservation,
he produced their letters, and inquired
if they knew them. They now fell on
their knees, confessed their crimes, and
implored forgiveness. Cranmer mildly
expostulated with them on the evil of
their conduct, forgave them, and never
again alluded to their treachery. His
forgiveness of injuries was so well
known, that it became a by-word, “ Do

my lord of Canterbury an ill turn, and
you make him your friend for ever.”
(0) GENERAL OGLE’I HORPE
AND HIS SERVANT.—-The Rev. J.
Wesley, in the course of his voyage to
America, hearing an unusual noise in
the cabin of General Oglethorpe, the
governor of Georgia, with whom he
sailed, stepped in to inquire the cause
of it. The general addressed him, “ Mr.
IV. you must excuse me, I have met
with a provocation too great for man to
bear. You know the only wine I drink
is.Cyprus wine; I therefore provided
myself with several dozens of it, and this
villain Grimaldi,” (his foreign servant,
who was present, and almost dead with
fear,) “has drank up the whole of it;
but I will be revengcd on him. I have
ordered him to be tied hand and foot, and
be carried to the man-of-war which sails
with us. The rascal should have taken
care how he used me so, for I never
forgive.” “ Then I hope, sir,” said
Mr. WV. looking calmly at him, “ you
never sin.”
confounded at the reproof ; and putting
his hand into his pocket, took out a
bunch of keys, which he threw at Gri-
maldi: “ There, villain,” said he, “take
my keys, and behave better for the fu-
ture.”
(cl) THE CHR.lSTIAN’S PERSE-
CUTOR.—-“ VVhat great matter,” said
a heathen tyrant to a Christian, while
he was beating him almost to deeth—-
“ IVhat great matter did Christ ever do
you ?” “ Even this,” answered the
Christian, “ that I can forgive you,
though you use me so cruelly.”
(e) MATTHEIV HALE’S ENE.
MY.---A person who had done Sir
Matthew Hale a great injury, came af-
terwards to him for his advice in the
settlement of his estate. Sir Matthew
gave his advice very frankly to him, but
would accept of no fee for it. When
he was asked how he could use a man
so kindly who had wronged him so much,
his answer was, he thanked God, he had
learned to forgive injuries.
The general was quite~
331
P76, 177'
F ORTUNE-'I‘ELLING.

THE NOBLEMAN’S PRAY-
ER.-—In 1931, when the cholera first
broke out in Hungary, the Sclavack
peasants of the North were fully per-
suaded they were poisoned by the nobles,
to get rid of them, and they, in conse-
quence, rose in revolt, and committed
the most dreadful excesses. One gentle-
man was seized by the peasants of the
village, among whom he had been, up
to that moment, exceedingly popular,
dragged from his home to the public
street, and then beaten for several suc-
cessive hours, to make him confess
where he had concealed the poison. At
last wearied with the trouble of inflict-
ing blows, they carried him to the smith,
and applied hot ploughshares to his feet,
three several times. As the poor man,
exhausted with this dreadful torture, and
finding all his entreaties and explanations
vain, fell back from weakness, and was
apparently about to expire, those beau-
tiful words of our dying Savior es-
caped from his lips, “ Lord, forgive
them; for they know not what they
do I” As by a miracle, the savage rage
of the peasantry was calmed. Struck
at once with the innocence of the vic-
tim, and enormity of their crime, they
fled on every side, and concealed them-
selves from view.

I‘
(g) COLORED WOMAN AND
THE SAILOR.-—A worthy old colored
woman in the city of New-York, was
one day walking along the street, on
some errand to a neighboring store, with
her tobacco pipe in her mouth, quietly
smoking. A jovial sailor, rendered a
little mischievous by liquor, came saw-
ing down the street, and, when opposite
our good Phillis, saucily crowded her
aside, and with a pass of his hand knock-
ed her pipe out of her mouth. He then
halted to hear her fret at his trick, and
enjoy a laugh at her expense. But
what was his astonishment, when she
meekly picked up the pieces of her
broken pipe, without the least resent-
ment in her manner, and giving him a
dignified look of mingled sorrow, kind-
ness and pity, said, “ God forgive you,
my son, as I do.” It touched a tender
cord in the heart of the rude tar. He
felt ashamed, condemned and repentant.
The tear started in his eye; he must
make reparation. He heartily confess-
de his error, and thrusting both hands
into his two full pockets of “change,”
forced the contents upon her, exclaim-
ing, “ God bless you, kind mother, I’ll
never do so again.”
177. FORTUNE-TELLING. ,.
(a) BYRON AND THE FORTUNE-
TELLER.—Lord Byron, when a boy,
was warned by a fortune-teller, that he
should die in the 37th year of his age.
That idea haunted him, and in his last
illness, he mentioned it as precluding
all hope of his recovery. It repressed,
his physician says, that energy of spirit
so necessary fornature in struggling with
disease. He talked of two days of the
week as unlucky days, on which noth-
ing would tempt him to commence any
matter of importance; and mentioned
as an'excuse for indulging such fancies,
that his friend Shelley, the poet, had a
familiar who had warned him that he
should perish by drowning, and such
was the fate of that highly gifted but
misguided man.

(l2) THE PENITENT FORTUNE-
TELLER.——A reformed gipsy, making
a visit to a parish in which one of her
children was born, near Basingstoke,
entered the cottage of an old couple who
sold fruit, &c. Tea being proposed, the
old woman expressed her surprise that
she had not seen her visitor for so long
a time, saying she was glad she was
come, as she wanted to tell her many
things, meaning future events. She
mentioned a great deal that another
gipsy woman had told her; on which
the reformed one exclaimed-“Don’t
believe her, dame. It is all lies. She
knows no more about it than you do. If
you trust to what she says, you will be
deceived.” The old woman was still
more surprised, and asked how she, who
332
FRETFC’LNESS—FRIENDSHIP. 1 78., 179

—"
had so often told their fortunes, and had
promised them such good luck, could be
so much altered’.2 The woman, taking
her Testament from her bosom, replied,
“ I have learned from this blessed book,
and from my kind friends, ‘ that all liars
shall have their portion in the lake
that burneth with fire and brimstone ;’
and rather than tell fortunes again, I
would starve.”
178. FRETFULNESS.
(a) “I DON’T WANT TO GO
TO HEAVEN.”——There was a cler-
gyman, who was of nervous tempera-
ment, and often became quite vexed, by
fin. ting his little grandchildren in his
study. One day, one of these little
children was standing by his mother’s
side, and she was speaking to him of
heaven.
“ Ma,” said he, “I don’t want to go
to heaven.”
I “Do not want to go to heaven, my
son ?”
“ No, Ma, I’m sure I don’t.”
“ Why not, my son '2”
“ WVhy, grandpa will be there, won’t
he ?”
“ Why, yes, I hope he will.”
“ Well, as soon as he sees us, he will
come scolding along, and say, ‘ Whew,
whew, what are these boys here for?’
I don’t want to go to heaven if grandpa
is going there.”
(12) BAIT FOR EVERY AGE.-—
Mr. Rumsey, a pious physician, speak-
ing of his sinful infirmities, observed,
“I have to lament the irritability of my
temper. in my old age.” He had been
fond of repeating a conversation which
he had in the early part of his life with
a pious friend. He observed to this

person, that he thought if he arrived at
old age, he should be subjett to fewer
temptations than at an earlier period;
but his more experienced friend told
him, that “the devil had a bait for
every age,” and Mr. Rumsey was at
length fully convinced of the truth of
the remark.
(0) THE Tl/VO GARDENERS.-—
Two gardeners, who were neighbors,
had their crops of early peas killed by
frost ; one of them came to condole with
the other on this misfortune. “Ah!”
cried he, “how unfortunate we have
been, neighbor! do you know I have
done nothing but fret ever since. But
you seem to have a fine healthy crop
coming up already; what are these ?”
“/These!” cried the other gardener,
“ why these are what I sowed Immedi-
ately after my loss.” “ VVhatl coming
up already?” cried the fretter. “Yes;
while you were fretting, I was Work-
ing.” “What! don’t you fret when
you have a loss?” “Yes; but I al-
ways put it off until after I have re-
paired the mischief.” “ Why then you
have no need to fret at all.” “ fme,”
replied the industrious gardener , “ and
that’s the very reason.”
179 FRIENDSHIP.
(a) PYTHIAS AND DAMON.
--When Damon was sentenced, by
Dionysius of Syracuse, to die on a cer-
tain day, he begged permission, in the
interim, to retire to his own country, to
set the affairs of his disconsolate fam-
ily in order. This the tyrant intended
peremptorily to refuse, by granting it,
as he conceived, on the impossible con-
ditions of his procuring some one to

remain as hostage for his return, under
equal forfeiture of life. Pythias heard
the conditions, and did not wait tor an
application upon the part of Damon: he
instantly offered himself as security for
his friend ; which being accepted,
Damon was immediately set at liberty.
The king and all the courtiers were as-
tonished at this action; and therefore,
when the day of execution drew near.
333
I79
FR IENDSHIP.

his majesty had the curiosity to visit
Pythias in his confinement. After some
conversation on the subject of friendship,
in which the tyrant delivered it as his
opinion, that self-interest was the sole
mover of human actions ; ‘as for virtue,
friendship, benevolence, love of one’s
country, and the like, he looked upon
them as terms invented by the wise to
keep in awe and impose upon the weak,
“ My lord,” said Pythias, with a firm
voice and noble aspect, “I would it
were possible that I might suffer a
thousand deaths, rather than my friend
should faihin any article of his honor.
He cannot fail therein, my lord: Iam
as confident of his virtue, as I am of my
own existence. But I pray, I beseech
the gods, to preserve the life and in-
tegrity of my Damon together: oppose
him, ye winds, prevent the eagerness
and impatience of his honorable en-
deavors, and suffer him not to arrive,
till by death I have redeemed a life a
thousand times of more consequence,
of more value, than my own; more es-
timable to his lovely wife, to his pre-
cious little children, to his friends, to
his country. Oh leave me not to die
the worst of deaths in my Damon.”
Dionysius was awed and confounded
by the dignity of these sentiments, and
by the manner in which they were ut-
tered: he felt his heart struck by a
slight sense of invading truth: but it
served rather to perplex than undeceive
him. The fatal day arrived. Pythias
was brought forth, and walked amidst
the guards with a serious but satisfied
air, to the place of execution. Diony-
sius was already there, he was exalted
on a moving throne, which was drawn
by six white horses, and sat pensive
and attentive to the prisoner. Pythias
came, he vaulted lightly on the scaffold,
and beholding for some time the appa-
ratus of his death, he turned with a
placid countenance, and addressed the
spectators: “My prayers are heard,”
he cried, “the gods are propitious; you
know, my friends, that the winds have
neen contrary till yesterday. Damon
could not come, he could not conquer
impossibilities ; he will be here to-mor-
row, and the blood which is shed to-day
shall have ransomed the life of my

\ "'
friend. Oh, could I erase from your
bosoms every doubt, every mean sus-
picion of the honor of the man for
whom I am about to suffer, I should go
to my death, even as . would to my
bridal. Be it sufficient in the mean
time, that my friend will be found no-
ble ; that his truth is unimpeachable;
that he will speedily prove it; that he
is now on his way, hurrying on, accus-
ing himself, the adverse elements, and
the gods: but I haste to prevent his
speed; executioner do your office.”
As he pronounced the last words, a
buzz began to rise among the remotest
of the people; a distant voice was
heard, the crowd caught the words, and
“ Stop, stop the execution I” was re-
peated by the whole assembly: a man
came at full speed: the throng gave
way to his approach: he was mounted
on a steed of foam: in an instant he
was off his horse, on the scaflbld, and
clasped Pythias in his arms. “You
are safe,” he cried, “ you are safe, my
friend, my beloved friend : the gods be
praised, you are safe, I now have no-
thing but death to suffer, and am de-
livered from the anguish of these re-
proaches which I gave myself for hav-
ing endangered a life so much dearer
than my own.” Pale, cold, and half-
speechless in the arms of his Damon,
Pythias replied in broken accents,
“ Fatal haste! Cruel impatience!
What envious powers have wrought
impossibilities in your favor! But I
will not be wholly disappointed. Since
I cannot die to save, I will not survive
you.” Dionysius heard, beheld, and
considered all with astonishment. His
heart was touched, he wept, and leaving
his throne, he ascended the scaffold:
“Live, live, ye incomparable pair!”
cried he : “ ye have borne unquestion-
able testimony to the existence of vir-
tue ; and that virtue equally evinces
the existence of a God to reward it.
Live happily, and with renown: and,
Oh! form me by your precepts, as ye
have invited me by your example, to be
worthy of the participation of so sacred
a friendship.”
(6) THE VICAR AND MASSIL.
LON .—Some years ago, a traveller,
passing through Clermont, wished to
334
FRIENDSHIP.
see the country house in which the cel-
ebrated Massillon used to spend the
greater part of the year, and therefore
applied to an old vicar, who, since the
death of the bishop, had never entered
the house. , He consented, however, to
gratify the traveller, notwithstanding
the profound grief he expected to suffer
from revisiting a place dear to his re-
membrance. They accordingly set out
together, and the vicar pointed out to
the stranger the different places of im-
portance. “ There,” said he, with
tears in his eyes, “ is the alley in which
the excellent prelate used to walk with
us; there is the arbor in which he
used to sit and read ; this is the garden
he took pleasure in cultivating with his
own hands.” Then they entered the
house, and when they came to the room
where Massillon died, “ This,” said the
vicar, “is the place where we lost
him ;” and as he pronounced these
words his affectionate feelings overcame
him, and he fainted away.
(0) DR. WATTS’ LONG VISlT.—-
A lady of quality being on a visit to
Dr. VVatts, the doctor thus accosted her :
“ Madam, your ladyship is come to see
me on a very remarkable day l”
“ VVhy is this day so remarkable?”
answered the Countess. “ This very
day thirty years,” replied the doctor,
“I came to the house of my good friend
Sir Thomas Abney, intending to spend
but one single week under his friendly
roof. and I have extended my visit to
his family to the length of exactly thirty
years.” Lady Abney, who was pres-
ent, immediately said to the doctor,
“ Sir, what you term a long thirty years’
visit, I consider as the best visit my
family ever received.”
(at) CUDJOE AND MURRA Y.--
The following account of the conduct of
an unenlightened African negro, is fur-
nished in Captain Snelgrave’s account
of his voyage to Guinea:
A New England sloop, trading there
in 1752, left a second mate, ¥Villiam
Murray, sick on shore, and sailed with-
out him. Murray was at the house of
a black named Cudjoe, with whom he
contracted an acquaintance during their
trade. He recovered, and the sloop be-
ing gone, he continued with his black

179

friend till some other opportunity should
offer of his getting home. In the mean
time, a Dutch ship came into the road,
and some of the blacks, coming on
board her, were treacherously seized,
and carried off as their slaves. The rela-
tions and friends, transported with sud-
den rage, ran into the house of Cudjoe,
to take revenge by killing Murray.
Cudjoe stopped them at the door, and
demanded what they wanted. “ The
white men,” said they, “ have carried
away our brothers and sons, and we
will kill all white men. Give us the
white man you have in your house, for
we will kill him.” “ Nay,” said Cud-
joe, “the white men that carried away
your relations are bad men ; kill them
when you can take them: but this
white man is a goon man, and you must
not kill him.” “But he is a white
man,” they cried, “ and the white men
are all bad men, and we will kill them
all.” “ Nay,” said he; “ you must
not kill a man who has done no harm,
only for being white. This man is my
friend ; my house is his post ; I am his
soldier, and must fight for him; you
must kill me before you can kill him.
I/Vhat good man will ever come again
under my roof, if I let my floor he
stained by a good man’s blood '2” The
negroes, seeing his resolution, and be-
ing convinced by his discourse that they
were wrong, went away ashamed. In
a few days Murray ventured abroad
again with his friend Cudjoe, when sev-
eral of them took him by the hand, and
told him they were glad they had not
killed him, for he was a good man.
(e) COL. BYRD AND THE
CHIEF.——It is related in Mr. .Iefi"er-
son’s Notes on Virginia, that Col. Byrd
of that state was sent at a certain time
to the Cherokee nation to transact some
business with them. “ It happened,”
says this writer, “that some of our dis-
orderly people had just killed one or two
of that nation. It was therefore pur-
posed in the council of the Cherokees,
that Col. Byrd should be put to death in
revenge for the loss of their countrymen.
Among them was a chief called Si.
louee, who, on some former occasion,
had contracted an acquaintance and
friendship with C01. Byrd. He came
335
180
GAMBLING.
to him every night in his tent, and told
him not to be afraid, they should not kill
him. After many days’ deliberation,
however, the determination was, contra-
ry to \Silouee’s expectation, that Byrd
should be put to death, and some war-
riors were dispatched as executioners.
Silouee attended them, and when they

entered the tent, he threw himself be-
tween them and Byrd, and said to the
warriors, ‘This man is my friend; be-
fore you can get at him, you must kill
me.’ On this they returned, and the
council respected the principle so much
as to recede from their de' ermination.‘
GAMBLING.
180. Sustained by fraud.
(a) THE CIIEATER CHEATED.
—There is no end to the dishonest tricks
of professional gamblers. One of these
gentry will often deal himself six or
seven cards when he should have but
five, and if he can make a good hand
by laying out the two poorest in his lap
he will do so; or if he cannot make a
good hand, he will take the two best [0
help him in his next hand. The follow-
ing case, which occurred on a western
steamboat, shows how men Wlll play
more than their number. A gambler
was playing with a man whom he mis-
took for a green Hoosier that knew no-
thing of playing scientifically. But he
was sadly deceived. The gambler,
from the beginning played somewhat
carelessly, supposing it needed no
science to beat the Hoosier; but the
gambler lost and commenced playing as
scientifically as he could. He still lost,
and finally lost nearly all he had, before
he quit; and after quitting they went
to the bar to drink. The gambler said
to the Hoosier, “ You beat any man for
luck I ever played with; [’ve lost my
money with you, and it makes no dif-
ference ; I will be honest with you ; you
did not know it, but I played six cards
all the time and your luck beat it.”
“ Well,” said the Hoosier, “ since you
have been so frank, I will also be frank ;
1 have played seven cards all the way
through from the word go; besides
stocking and palming occasionally for
.he sake of variety. The gambler was
greatly surprised and swore that he
would not have supposed, that he much
more than knew one card fi'oin another ;
out he was deceived in the man, and it

would not have done for turn to haw
shown any anger. as he first conressec
having cheated the Hoosier, who was in
fact a most expert gambler, and had
purposely assumed that disguise.
(Z2) A PRIZE IN A LOTTERY.-
The proprietors of lotteries are some-
times swindled through the unfaithful-
ness of their agents; and thus it hap-
pens that a large prize is sometimes
drawn and trumpeted forth, which the
craft of the proprietors would otherwise
have retained. A case, says Mr. Green,
came to my knowledge, of a man
who drew a capital prize. The mode
of effecting this was as follows :—An
agent who was stationed in a town some
distance from the principal establish-
ment, made two confidents, who doubt-
lessly acted readily with him from the
hope of gain. One of these was the
post-master of the town, and the other an
acquaintance, a patron of the lottery.
The duty of the agent was to transmit
to the principal office all unsold tickets,
by the first mail that left after the known
hour of drawing. This mail also con-
veyed the lists of the drawing; but, in
a regular manner of proceeding, the}
would not have been accessible to the
agent before the departure of the agent
with his unsold tickets. By making a
confident of the post-master, however,
he received the lists as quick as possi~
ble after the mail arrived and before it
had been assorted. He then examined
his unsold tickets, and if any consider-
able prize remained, he would take it
from among the unsold tickets, and de-
spatch the remainder to the principal
office, and give the prize to the other
confident, each one giving out that the
ticket had been sold to him; and ac
333
‘ and the slow horse won the race.
DES'I'ROYS NATURAL SENSIBILITY.

---~--_,----_--
180, 181

cordingly the prize would be claimed
and paid though fraudulently obtained.
In this particular case the capital prize
was drawn, and it appeared that the
ticket-holder appropriated all the money
to his own use, as he was known to buy
much property shortly afterwards. It
is believed also by those who were ac-
quainted with the incident that he never
divided with the rascally agent ; and
thus was the cheater cheated, who in his
wrath, let out some of the secrets of the
manner in which the rize was obtained.
(c) THE HORSE-RACE.-—~Cheats
are used in horse-racing as in other
species of gambling. There was a man
in Kentucky noted for making match
'races; and a club of men went to the
expense of procuring a fast horse in
order to beat one he boasted much of.
The jockey closed the agreement for
the race, with a bet of about two thou-
sand dollars; and the club was very
certain of beating the jockey. ‘When
the day arrived for the race, and the
horses started, the club horse went ahead
of the jockey’s immediately, and took
the inside track nearest the fence. At
the first turn, he fell to his knees, and
while recovering himself, the slow horse
get ahead of him, and after running
some distance, the fast horse fell again,
The
fast horse became lame from his fall;
his owners were much chagrined at
their misfortune, and on the next morn-
ing, went to the jockey’s lodgings in or-
der to close another race with him. The
landlord informed them that he had left
the night before, soon after the race was
over. His sudden departure, after a
successful race, excited their suspicions
of foul play. They then examined the
track and found the jockey had dug a
number of small holes on the inside of
the track, placing gourds in them and
spreading a little loose dirt over them;
and when the fast horse ran close to the
fence he would tread on these gourds, and
would sink and stumble; thus giving
the slow the advantage. When this dis-
covery was made, they decided on hav-
ing a race at all events, and so chased
;he jockey nearly a hundred miles, but
did not succeed in overtaking him.
((1) TABLE I/VITH A HOLLOW
LEG.—-There are men apparently en-
gaged in business, whose stores are, ill
the upper apartments, extensive gam-
bling establishments. Of those who go to
such places, few ever come out winners;
because there are fixed contrivances for
cheating those who are invited in to play,
of which they are wholly ignorant. A
reformed gambler states that he became
acquainted with a merchant in New Or-
leans, who had in his store such a room.
He had a great number .0 play with
him, and all of them continually lost.
Men who were professed gamblers, here
found their tricks and artifices set at
nought, and themselves losing at every
trial. They became dissatisfied, and
suspected some extraordinary trick be-
ing used. They combined for the sake
of ascertaining, and soon learned from
some person in his employment, the
whole secret. His table was construct-
ed with a hollow leg, and in that leg,
where the knee would rest against it,
was fixed a small peg, which would
strike against his knee on a small wire
being pulled, which was attached to the
peg, and passed out under the bottom of
the leg and under the floor to the side
of the room, thence up stairs directly
over the table. And from the centre of
a fine moulding in plaster, hung a rich
lamp ; the moulding was hollow, and so
constructed that a man who was a secret
partner, could be overhead, and see into
the hands below, and give his partner
signs from above, previously agreed
upon by pulling the wire. This ad-
vantage was sufficient to ruin any man
who played with him, and enabled him
to make money faster than by mercantile
business, which in fact he cared nothing
about only as a cover for his gambling.
This man’s establishment was broken
up and be tied.
181. Destroys Natural Sensibility.
(a) A SCANDALOUS WAGER.
—-Well did Dr. Nott say, “The finish-
ed gambler has no heart——-he would
play at his brother’s funeral-—he would
gamble upon his mother’s coffin.”
Horace IValpole mentions an anecdote
22
337
191, 182
GAMBLING.
of a man having in his time dropped
down dead at the door of VVhite’s club
house, into which he was carried; the
members of the club immediately made
bets whether he was dead or not; and
upon its being proposed to bleed him,
the wagerers for his death interposed,
alleging that it would effect the fair-
ness of the bet.
(1)) A GAME VVITH A CORPSE.-—
The desperate depravity to which gam-
bling reduces its votaries is strikingly
illustrated in the case of three gamblers
here related. They determined on a
game, which was doubtless meant to
show their utter contempt of all things
sacred in this world and the next. Ac-
cordingly they enter at night the char-
nel house and take from thence a corpse
that very day placed in the vault. They
bear the deceased into the cathedral,
pass within the chancel, light up one of
the candles before the altar, seat the
grim corpse by the communion table,
and gathering around the table them-
selves, proceed to engage in a game of
cards I I Shameless, sacrilegious doings
that none but gamblers could think of
without shuddering I I
The above fact is said by Rev. Wm.
B. Tappan of Boston, to rest on good
authority and he has accordingly made
it the subject of a short poem on gam-
bling.
18?. Leads to Bankruptcy and Suicide.
(a) NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS
FOR A BUTTON.—“ I was well ac-
quainted,” says Mr. Green, the reformed
gambler, “with the circumstance of a
young man starting to go to the hot
springs of Arkansas. He was a man
who had acquired by honesty and in-
dustry about nine hundred dollars. He
had been in bad health for some time,
and concluded to visit the springs to re-
cruit his health. On his arrival at the
mouth of White River, he was detained
for a boat, and while there he was in-
duced to play cards. I am unable to say
at this time, what was the game tnat he
played, but he won some forty or fifty
dollars and the game broke up. After
the game was broken up, one of the
gamblers pulled out a button and ban-

_--_-—-----'v-.-.-_-
tered the young man to win it at “ fare”
and he pulled out a quarter and bet it
against the button, and the banker won.
He tried again and again, until he lost
some three or four dollars, to win the
button, and then went to bed. The bank-
er had now several persons betting small
bets on the game, and lui won some
eight or ten dollars, and .nere was quite
a noise and bustle going on. The young
man, who had quit and gone to bed, got
up, and felt a strong propensity to win
all. He began betting on the game
again, and in a short time lost the whole
of his nine hundred dollars trying to
win a button ; for that was all he could
have won, as the man had no money at
first but what he had won from the‘
young man. The young man was
obliged to make his way home, without
his health being benefited, and without
his money.
(Z2) THE RUINED MERCHANT.
——A writer in the N. Y. Observer for
1831 says: A few years since, the large
steamer M set out from New
Orleans on an upward voyage, having
on board much freight, and many pas-
sengers. Among them were several
merchants who had large amounts in
sugar, molasses, coffee, &c., on board.
Soon after the boat started they com-
menced gambling, and continued with-
out intermission until after ten o’clock
at night. The captain informed them,
that it was contrary to the rules of the
boat that they should play in the cabin
after that hour. They protested, de-
murred, and entreated. But he was in-
exorable. At length he consented to
their going to a small private room;
but enjoined it upon them that there
must be no fighting. Four of them re-
newed the game with excited interest.
The captain having occasion to be up
all night, went, about three o’clock, into
their room. To his surprise he found
them just on the point of fighting. Pis-
tols and dirks were drawn! At his in-
terposition and command, their weapons
were put up. The cause of the quar-
rel was this: One merchant had lost
all the money he had with him, and all his
large cargo on board. The loser de
sired his merchandise to be estimated
at the retail price where he resided,

338
LEADS TO BANKRUPTCY AND SUICIDE.
- --~_-_—v~ --—>.'_
I82
and to which place the boat was bound.
But the marble-hearted winner insisted
upon the New Orleans price as the
basis ef the calculation, and which would
have left the loser in his debt to a large
amount, for which he demanded a due-
bill I At the remonstrance of the cap-
tain, he ceased to insist upon this, and
the bill of lading having been trans-
ferred in due form to the winner, the
miserable loser went home without a
dollar to pay even his passage, to tell (if
he could do it) to his wife and children
the story of his folly, and to,become a
hanlcrupt I
(c) THE FlREMAN’S STAKES.
—-A colored fireman, on board a steam-
boat running from St. Louis to New
Orleans, having lost all his money
at poker with his companions, staked
his clothing, and being still unfortunate,
pledged his own freedom for a small
amount. Losing this, the bets were
doubled, and he finally, at one desperate
hazard, ventured his own value as a
slave, and laid down his free papers to
represent the stake. He lost, suffered
his certificates to be destroyed, and was
actually sold by the winner to a slave
dealer, who hesitated not to take him at
a small discount upon his asserted value.
(ti) THE FATAL GAME.-—By
the device called hockelty in playing fare,
professional gamesters in the Southern
States, have been known to make thou-
sands of dollars out of the uninitiated in
a single season. “ There is one in-
stance,” says J . H. Green, “that I
shall never forget. It occurred in New
Orleans about the year 1833. A plant-
er, who lived near Vicksburgh, was
very fond of play. He went to New
Orleans to trade and sell his produce ;
and while there was invited to a fare
bank. He lost, and during his play, he
was caught in hockelty for twenty-two
hundred dollars at one bet. The deal-
er had won from him about eighteen
thousand dollars, and this bet was the
last of his money. The effect of this
loss may be more easily imagined than
described. In a few moments he drew
a pistol and blew out his brains. I
have no doubt that the citizens of VVar-
rlngton, Mississippi, will know the per-


--
his family or relatives lived in or near
that place. Such have been the bane-
ful effects of this game, that it wasa
matter of almost daily occurrence for
some one to stab or be stabbed in the
vile haunts of these wicked men.”
(e) LOTTERY AND SUICIDE.-
In 1833 an adventurer in lotteries
committed suicide in the city of Boston,
by drowning himself. The fate of this
unfortunate man contains one of those
impressive moral lessons, which address
us with a power which no uninspired
lips can do. He was in the employ-
ment of one of the most respectable
houses in the city, highly esteemed and
respected by the members of it, and in
the receipt of a liberal salary. About
a year before, he had the misfortune to
draw a prize in the lottery, and from
that moment his ruin was sealed. The
regular earnings of honest industry
were no longer enough for him-—visions
of splendid prizes were continually
flitting before his eyes, and he plunged
at once into the intoxicating excitement
of lotteries. He soon became deeply
involved, and his access to the funds of
the firm, held out to him a temptation
which he could not resist. He appro-
priated to himself considerable sums
from time to time, continually deluded
by the hope that a turn of the wheel
would give him the means of replacing
them. But that turn never came ; for-
tune gave him but one smile, and that
was a fatal one. He saw that detection
would soon come, and that the punish-
ment and the shame of a felon would
succeed to the consideration and respect
he had always enjoyed. and he had not
courage to wait the moment of disclo-
sure. He sought refuge in death ; and
added to his other sins the horrible act
of self-murder! He left a memoran-
dum which contained an account of the
circumstances that made life intolerable
to him.
SUICIDE OF THE OFFICER
OF THE GUARD.—-A writer in the
London New Monthly Magazine, who
} resided some time in Paris, relates the
following account of a fact which passed
I under his own observation.
“ Though I never in my life won or
son here spoken of, as I understand. lost five pounds at play, I was a fre-
339
E83, 184.
GENEROSIT Y.
—-

quent visitor at Frascati I went as a
looker-on, and to confess the truth, for
the purpose of indulging in the excite-
ment occasioned by watching the vari-
ous chances and changes of the game,
and their effects upon those who were
more seriously interested in them.
Upon one occasion,I absolutely grew
giddy from anxiety, whilst watching the
countenance of an officer of the Garde
Rog/ale, who stood opposite me, and
waiting the turn of a card which was to
decide whether he should, at once, re-
urn a beggar to his home, or his cer-
tain fate be deferred till a few hours, or
a few nights later. It appeared to be
his last stake. The perspiration was
falling from his brow, not in drops, but
In a stream. He won; and a friend
who accompanied him dragged him out
of the room. Some nights afterwards I
saw this person again. He was losing
considerably, yet he endured his losses
with apparent calmness. Once when a
large stake was swept from him, he just
muttered between his teeth, whilst his
lips were curled with a bitter smile,
“C’est bien; tres bien.” After this,
he silently watched the game through
five or six deals, but did not play. I
concluded he had lost all. Suddenly
and fiercely he turned to the dealer, and
in a tone of voice almost amounting to a
scream, he exclaimed, “ C’est mon sang
que vous voulez-—le voila.” He at the
same time drew from his pockets two
notes of five hundred francs each, and,
dashing them down on the table, he
rushed into a corner of the room, hid
his face, covered his ears with his
hands, as if dreading to hear the an-

nouncement of the result of his specula-
tion, and literally yelled aloud. It was
awful I‘ After a few seconds he return-
ed to his place. His last stake was
lost I He twice drew his handkerchief
across his forehead, but he uttered not a
word. Presently he asked for a glass
of eau-sucre, and having swallowed it,
he slowly walked away. The next
morning his servant found him sitting
in an arm chair, with his sword thrust
to the very hilt, sticking in his throat
183. Miscellaneous.
(a) GAMBLERS CONFOUNDED
BY A BIBLE.—The Rev. Mr. VV.,
now a Missionary at the Sandwich Isl-
ands, a short time before he left this
country, took passage from New York
to New Haven, in a packet. In the
evening a company of fellow passen-
gers, who were quite profane, gathered
round a table on which was the only
light burning in the cabin, and soon
became deeply engaged in gambling.
Mr. W., after reflecting some time on
the best means of reproving them, drew
a Bible from his trunk, and politely
requested that he might have a seat
at the same table for the purpose of
reading. The sight of the Bible at
once stopped their swearing ; and after
gambling in total silence about ten
minutes, they all left the table and
went upon deck! thus evincing that the
silent reproofs of a good man, with
the Bible in his hand, are too loud
and too pointed for the guilty consciences
of gamblers to endure.
184. GENEROSIT Y.
(a) DEMETRIUS AND THE
ATHENIANS.-—It is related of De-
metrius, (surnamed the Conqueror cf
cities,) that having received a marked
and undoubted provocation, he laid
siege to the city of Athens. The inha-
bitants made a desperate resistance ; but
were at last obliged to surrender, in
eonsequence of great scarcity of pro-
visions. Demetrius then ordered them,

with the exception of the women and
children, to be assembled together in
one place, and to be surrounded with
armed soldiers. Every one was in the
greatest fear, conscious how much they
had injured him, and expecting every
moment to be put to death. It is not
surprising, that they were overwhelmed
with joy and admiration, when they
heard him with a magnanimityr honor-
340
GEN EROSITY.
__I-__
184
able to human nature, thus address
them:—-“I wish to convince you, O
Athenians, how ungenerously you have
treated me ; for it was not to an enemy
that your assistance was refused, but to
a prince who loved you, who still loves
you, and who wishes to revenge himself
only by granting your pardon, and being
still your friend. Return to your own
homes; while you have been here my
soldiers have been filling your houses
with provisions.”
(b) PARKHURST’S GENEROSL
TY.—Mr. Parkhurst, the celebrated
lexicographer, had a tenant who fell
considerably behind in the payment of
the rent for his farm, which he had taken
at five hundred pounds per annum. It
was represented to Mr. P. that the rent
was too high, and a new valuation was
made. It was then agreed that four
hundred and fifty pounds should be the
annual payment; and when this was
done, Mr. P. considering that the rent
must always have been too high, unask-
ed, immediately struck off fifty pounds
a year from the commencement of the
lease, and refunded to the farmer all
that he had received more than the
above sum. In this act justice and gen-
erosity were combined.
(0) GLANVILLE AND HIS BRO-
THER.——-The father of that eminent
lawyer, Mr. Sergeant Glanville, who
lived in the days of Charles II. had a
good estate, which he intended to settle
on his eldest son ; but he proving vicious,
and affording no hope of reformation,
he devolved it upon the sergeant, who
was his second son. Upon his father’s
death, the eldest son, finding that what
he had hitherto considered as the mere
threat of his father was really true, be-
came greatly dejected, and, in a short
period, his character underwent an en-
tire change. His brother, observing
this, invited him, with a party of his
friends, to I. feast; and after several
other dishes had been removed, he or-

dered one, covered up, to be set oefore
his brother, which, on being examined,
was found to contain the writings of the
estate. The sergeant then told him that
he had now done what he was sure their
father would have done, had he lived to
witness the happy change they all saw ;
and that he therefore freely conveyed to
him the whole property.
(cl) THE GENEROUS HEIR.—-
In the month ofSeptember, 1801, IV.
T. M., dying without a will, his large
property, which was chiefly in landed
estates, devolved to his eldest son. By
this circumstance the eight younger
children were unprovided for; but this
gentleman, with a generosity seldom
equalled, and which does honor to
Christianity, immediately made over to
his younger brothers and sisters three
considerable estates, which were about
two-thirds of the whole property. This
munificence is the more extraordinary,
as he had a young and increasing fa-
mily of his own. On a friend remon-
strating with him on his conduct, his
answer was, “I have enough; and am
determined that all my brothers and
sisters shall be satisfie .”
(e) A RARE EXECUTOR.—About
the year 1772, a grocer, of the name O1
Higgins, died, and left a considerable
sum to a gentleman in London, saying
to him, at the time that he made his will,
“ I do not know that I have any relations,
but should you ever by accident hear
of such, give them some relief.” The
gentleman, though thus left in full and
undisputed possession of a large fortune,
on which no person could have any legal
claim, advertised for the next of kin to
the deceased; and, after some months
were spent in inquiries, he at length dis-
covered a few distant relatives. He
called them together to dine with him,
and after distributing the whole of the
money, according to the different degrees
of consanguinity, paid the expenses of
advertising out of his own pocket.
I85, 186
GOD, EXISTENCE OF—GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD.
.’_-_ -.--,-

185.‘ eon, EXISTENCE or.
(a) GOD’S SPIRIT AND MAN’S
SI’IRlT.—As a missionary in India
was catechising the children of one of
the schools, a Brahmin interrupted him,
by saying that the spirit of man and the
Spirit of God were one. In order to
show him the absurdity of such a decla-
ration, the missionary called upon the
boys to refute it, by stating the difference
between the spirit of man and God.
They readily gave the following an-
swers :——“ The spirit of man is created
——God is its Creator: the spirit of man
is full of sin——God is a pure Spirit: the
spirit of man is subject to grief—God is
infinitely blessed, and incapable of suf-
fering : these two spirits, therefore,” re-
plied the boys, “ can never be one.”
(b) A MUTE’S IDEA OF GOD’S
ETERNITY:-One of the deaf and
dumb pupils in the institution of Paris,
being desired to express his idea of the
eternity of the Deity, replied, “ It is
duration, without beginning or end;
existence without bound or dimension;
present, without past or future. His
eternity is youth without infancy or old
age ; life without birth or death; to-day
without yesterday or to-morrow.”
(c) LESSON FROM A LEAF.—-
When the Rev. John Thorpe, of Mashe-
rough, in Yorkshire, (Eng.) had preach-
ed for about two years, he was greatly
harassed with temptations to atheism,
which continued, with a few intervals,
many months. His distress sometimes,
on this account. was so great, as to em-
barrass his mind beyond description. At
length, however, he was happily de-
livered, by the following occurrence :—
Passing through a wood, with a design
to preach in a neighboring village,
while he was surveying his hand, a leaf

accidentally stuck between his fingers.
He felt a powerful impression to exa-
mine the texture of the leaf. Holding
it between his eye and the sun, and re-
flecting upon its exquisitely curious and
wonderful formation, he was led into an
extensive contemplation on the works of
creation. Tracing these back to their
first cause, he had, in a moment, such a
conviction of the existence and ineffable
perfections of God, which then appeared,
that his distress was removed; and he
prosecuted his journey, rejoicing in
God, and admiring him in every object
that presented itself to his view.
(d) STRUCTURE OF THE
JOIN TS.-—Dr. Marshall, a lecturer on
anatomy, had deeply studied the con-
struction and laws of man, and was
never happier than when explaining
them. He once devoted a whole lecture
to display the profound science that was
visible in the formation of the double
hinges of our joints. Such was the effect
of his demonstrations, that an inquisitive
friend, who had accompanied Dr. Tur-
ner to the lecture, with skeptical incli-
nations, suddenly exclaimed with great
emphasis, “A man must be a fool in-
deed, who after duly studying his own
body can remain an atheist.”
(e) ATHEISTICAL ANATOMIST.
—When Galen, a celebrated physician,
but atheistically inclined, had anato-
mized the human body, and carefully
surveyed the frame of it, viewed the fit-
ness and usefulness of every part of it
and the many several intentions of every
little vein, bone and muscle, and the
beauty of the whole, he fell into a fit of
devotion, and wrote a hymn to his Crea
tor.
GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD.
186. As Revealed in Jesus Christ.
((1) FIRST GREENLAND CON-
VERT.--It is well known that the
Moravian missionaries in Greenland
labored for several years without any
apparent success. They seem to have
thought, with many in the present day,
that they should first instruct the na-
tives in the existence of God, the (.1'Gtl
345.
AS REVEALED IN JESUS CHRIST.
186
-_|--I -
tion of the world, the nature of their
souls, &c. ; and all this they did with-
out exciting any degree of attention.
On one occasion, however, while one of
these good men was occupied in trans-
lating the gospels, he was visited by a
number of these savages, who were de-
sirous of knowing the contents of the
book. He began an address to them by
giving them some general scriptural in-
formation, and then slid into an account
of the sufferings of Jesus ; reading them
the account of his agony, and speaking
much of the anguish which made him
sweat great drops of blood.
Now began the Spirit of God to work.
One of these men, named Kaiarnack,
stepped forward to the table, and said,
in an earnest an affecting tone, “How
was that '.l Tell me that once more: for
I would fain be saved too I” Never
had such language been heard from a
Greenlander before. A full statement
of the gospel was given: this man be-
came indeed converted to God, and emi-
nently useful. A change took place in
the general character of the preaching
of the brethren, and their subsequent
success is well known.
(1)) MR. NOTT AND THE
SOUTH SEA ISLANDER.-— Mr.
Nott, missionary in the South Sea Isl-
ands, was on one occasion reading a
portion of the gospel of John to a num-
ber of the natives. ‘When he had finish-
ed the sixteenth verse of the third chap-
ter, a native, who had listened with avi-
dity and joy to the words, interrupted
him, and said, “ WVhat words were
those you read’.2 VVhat sounds were
those I heard '2 Let me hear those
words again I” Mr. N ott read again the
verse, “God so loved,” etc., when the
native rose from his seat, and said, “Is
that true’.2 O-an that be true’.2 God
love the world, when the world not love
him ! God so love the world, as to give
his Son to die that man might not die!
Can that be true '2” Mr. Nott again
read the verse, “ God so loved the
world,” etc., told him it was true, and
that it was the message God had sent to
them; and that whosoever believed in
him should not perish, but be happy
after death. The overwhelming feel-
ings of the wondering native were too

powerful for expression or restraint.
He burst into tears, and as these chased
each other down his countenance, he re-
tired to meditate in private on the great
love of God which had that day touched
his soul. There is every reason to be-
lieve he afterwards enjoyed the peace
and happiness resulting from the love of
God shed abroad in his heart.
(c) “ THE SWORD OF THE
SPIRIT.”—lt is related of the Rev.
John VVesley, that he was once stopped
by a highwayman who demanded his
money. After re had given it to him,
he called him back, and said, “ Let me
speak one word to you; the time may
come when you may regret the course
of life in which you are engaged. Re-
member this: The blood of Jesus Christ
cleanseth from all sin.” He said no
more, and they parted. Many years
afterwards, when 1e was leaving a
church in which he had been preaching,
a person came up and asked him if he
remembered being waylaid at such a
time, referring to the above circum-
stances. Mr. W'esley replied that he
recollected it. “ I,’ ’ said the individual,
“was that man; that single verse on
that occasion was the means of a total
change in my life and habits. I have
long since been attending the house of
God and the \Vord of God, and I hope I
am a Christian.”
(d) THE THREE PREAOHEB3.
—The following interesting address was
delivered by an Indian, named Johannes,
who became one of the missionaries of
the United Brethren, in North Ameri-
ca :-
Brethren, I have been a heathen, and
have grown old amongst them : therefore
I know very well how it is with the hea-
then, and how they think. A preacher
once came to us, desiring to instruct us;
and began by proving to us that there
was a God. On which we said to him,
“ \/Vell, and dost thou think we are ig-
norant of that '2 Now go back again to
the place from whence thou camest.”
Then, again, another preacher came,
and began to instruct us, saying, “ You
must not steal, nor drink too much, nor
lie, nor lead wicked lives.” \Ve answer-
ed him, “ Fool that thou art, dOSL thou
think that we do not know that - Gm
343
I87
GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD.
and learn it first thyselfi and teach the
people whom thou belongest to, not to do
these things. For who are greater drunk-
ards, or thieves, or liars, than thine own
people '2” Thus we sent him away also.
Some time after this, Christian Henry,
one of the Brethren, came to me into my
hut, and sat down by me. The con-
tents of his discourse to me were nearly
these : ‘ ‘ I come to thee in the name of the
Lord of heaven and earth. He sends me
to acquaint thee, that he would gladly
save thee, and make thee happy, and de-
liver thee from the miserable state in
which thou liest at present. To this end
he became a man, gave his life a ransom
for man, and he shed his blood for man.
All that believe in the name of this Jesus,
obtain the forgiveness of sin. To all
those that receive him by faith, he giveth
power to become the sons of God. The
Holy Spirit dwelleth in their hearts, and
they are made free, through the blood of
Christ, from the slavery and dominion
of sin. And though thou art the chief
of sinners, yet if thou prayest to the
Father in his name, and believest in him
as a sacrifice for thy sms, thou shalt be
heard and saved, and he will give thee
a crown of life, and thou shalt live with
him in heaven for ever.”
VVhen he had finished his discourse,
ne lay down upon a board in my hut,
fatigued by his journey, and fell into a
sound sleep. lthought within myself,
what manner of man is this? There he
lies, and sleeps so sweetly : I might kill
him, and throw him into the forest, and
who would regard it’.2 But he is uncon-
cerned. This cannot be a bad man 5 he
fears no evil, not even from us, who are
so savage; but sleeps comfortably, and
places his life in our hands.
However, I could not forget his words 5
they constantly recurred to my mind;
even though I went to sleep, I dreamed
of the blood which Christ had shed for
us. I thought, This is very strange, and
quite different from vhat I have ever
heard. So It went, and interpreted
Christian I-Ienry’s words to the other In-
dians. Thus through the grace of God,
an awakening took place among us. I
teh you therefore, brethren, preach to
the heathen Christ, and his blood, and his
sufferings, and his death, if you would


have your words to gain entrance
among them—if you wish to confer a
blessing upon them.
187. As Seen in Pfll‘(l0l1iIlglllB Guilty.
(a) THE DEVIL’S CASTAWAYS.
—Some ladies called one Saturday
morning to pay a visit to Lady Hun-
tingdon, and, during the visit, her lady-
ship inquired of them if they had ever
heard Mr. VVhitefield preach. Upon be-
ing answered in the negative, she said,
“I wish you would hear him ; he is to
preach to-morrow evening.” They pro-
mised her ladyship they would certainly
attend. They fulfilled their promise;
and when they called the next Monday
morning on her ladyship, she anxiously
inquired if they had heard Mr. White-
field on the previous evening, and how
they liked him. The reply was, “ Oh
my lady, of all the preachers we ever
heard, he is the most strange and unac-
countable! Among other preposterous
things, would your ladyship believe it,
he declared that Jesus Christ was so
willing to receive sinners, that he did
not object to receive even the devil’s
castaways .' Now, my lady, did you ever
hear of such a thing since you were
born '2” To which her ladyship made
the following reply: “There is some-
thing, I acknowledge, a little singular
in the invitation, and I do not recollect
to have ever met with it before 5 but as
Mr. VVhitefield is below in the parlor,
we will have him up, and let him an-
swer for himself.” Upon his coming up
into the drawing-room, Lady Hunting-
don said, “ Mr. Whitefield, these ladies
have been preferring a very heavy
charge aginst you, and Ithought it best
that you should come up and defend
yourself. They say, that, in your ser-
mon last evening, in speaking of the
willingness of Jesus Christ to receive
sinners, you expressed yourself in the
following terms: ‘That so ready was
Christ to receive sinners who came to
him, that he was willing to receive even
the devil’s castaways.’” Mr. White-
field immediately replied: “I certainly,
my lady, must plead guilty to the
charge ; whether I did vmat was right,
or otherwise, your ladyship shall judge
4
AS SEEN IN PARDONING THE GUILTY.
187
from the following circumstance. Did
your ladyship notice, about halfan hour
ago, a very modest single rap at the
door’.2 It was given by a poor, miser-
able-looking, aged female, who request-
ed to speak with me. I desired her to
be shown into the parlor, when she ac-
costed me in the following manner :—
‘ I believe, sir, you preached last even-
ing at such a chapel.’ ‘ Yes, I did.’ ‘Ah,
sir, I was accidentally passing the door
of that chapel, and hearing the voice of
some one preaching, I did what I never
had been in the habit of doing,—I went
in; and one of the first things I heard
you say was, that Jesus Christ was so
willing to receive sinners, that he did
not object to receive the devil’s casta-
ways. Do you think, sir, that Jesus
Christ would receive me ?’ ” Mr.
Whitefield answered her there was not
a doubt of it, if she was but willing to
go to him. This was the case ; it ended
in the conversion of the poor creature
to God. When she died, she left highly
satisfactory evidence that her great
and numerous sins had been forgiven,
through the atonement of the Lord
Jesus.
(Z2) INTENDED SUICIDE’S
HYMN.—A gentleman was known by
his nearest and dearest friend, his wife,
never to lie down upon his pillow some
years before his death, or raise his head
from it in the morning, without repeat-
ing the short hymn annexed to this
anecdote; and sometimes he would in-
advertently burst into ejaculations in
company, when two or three lines of it
were distinctly heard before he could
recollect himself: the cause at that time
was unknown ; but, after his decease, a
paper was found in his bureau to the
following purport: “ You will no longer
be surprised at my involuntary eflhsions
of feeble gratitude to the Almighty,
which broke forth occasionally in gay
company, when you shall read that
many years since the dread of approach-
ing poverty, disgrace, humiliation, and
desertion of friends, had brought me to
the fatal resolution of putting an end to
my existence. Conscious that I had
brought misfortune upon a numerous
family by my own imprudence, dissi-
pation, and pride, I considered my pun-

ishment as an act of justice. The d as-
tined moment arrived; already hac. I
loaded, primed, and cooked ; when,
strange to relate ! thoughl had not read
a page in the Bible for years, a reflec-
tion came suddenly across my mind;
‘Jesus of Nazareth,’ sa.d I to myself,
‘ was a man (for I disbelieved in his di-
vinity) acquainted with sorrows, endur-
ed a life of poverty, was exposed to
public scorn and derision, suffered pain
of body and agony of mind, and had no-
thing to reproach himself with, yet this
reformer of the morals of mankind, this
benefactor to society, this illustrious pat-
tern of fortitude, patience, and humility,
was, by an unthankful world, put to
death : he was crucified! but he cruci-
fied not himself!’ Repeating these last
words a second time with unusual en-
ergy, pride, disdain, shame, and con-
tempt of my inability humbly to imitate
this striking example of bearing afflic-
tions manfully, produced a passionate
conflict of mind, in which paroxysm I
madly flung the pistol some distance
from me ; to add to the affecting scene,
it went off, unheard but by my affection-
ate wife, who religiously kept the secret:
her consolations restored me to tempo-
rary tranquillity, but the work of Pro-
vidence was not yet completed; not a
week had elapsed, and settled melan-
choly was again taking possession of my
soul, when a letter announced the death
of a distant relation, and summoned me
to the reading of his will, by which he
had bequeathed me suflicient not only
to clear me of all encumbrances, but to
enable me, with the assistance of a con-
siderable surplus, to exert my abilities
in the line of my profession for the sup-
port of my family, and even to aim at a
moderate independence, which you will
find I have at length acquired.”
“ Rise, oh my soul ! the hour review,
\Vhen, awed by guilt and fear,
Thou durst not Heaven for mercy sue,
Nor hope for pity here!
Dried are thy tezus, thy griefs are fed,
Dispell’d each bitter care ;
For Heaven itself did send its aid,
To snatch thee from despair!
Then here, oh God, thy work fulfil
And from thy mercy’s throne
345
I87
GRACE AND MERCY OF GOD

Vouchsafe me strength to dc thy will,
And to resist my own.
So shall my soul each power employ
Thy mercies to adore,
While Heaven itself proclaims with joy
One rescued sinner more !”
(0) WHITEFlELD’S BROTHER
CON VERTED.-—Mr. Whitefield, bro-
ther of the noted preacher, had fallen
into a backslidden state; but under a
sermon preached by his brother in the
Countess of Huntingdon’s chapel, Bath,
it pleased God to arouse him from that
state ; after which, however, he became
melancholy and despairing. He was
taking tea with the Countess of Hunt-
ingdon, on a service evening, in the
chapel house, and her ladyship endeav-
ored to raise his desponding hopes by
conversing on God’s infinite mercy
through Jesus Christ; but, for a while,
in vain. “My lady,” he replied, “I
know what you say is true. The mer-
cy of God is infinite: Isee it clearly.
But, ah I my lady, there is no mercy for
me-—I am a wretch, entirely lost.” “I
am glad to hear it, Mr. Whitefield,”
said Lady H. “I am glad at my
heart that you are a lost man.” He
looked with great surprise. “ What,
my lady, glad I glad at your heart that
I am a lost man '2” “ Yes, Mr. White-
field, truly glad ; for Jesus Christ came
into the world to save the lost!” He
laid down his cup of tea on the table.
“ Blessed be God for that,” said he,
“Glory to God for that word,” he ex-
claimed. “ Oh what unusual power is
this which I feel attending it! Jesus
Christ came to save the lost! then I
have a ray of hope,” and so he went on.
As he finished his last cup of tea, his
hand trembled, and he complained of
illness. He went out into the chapel
court for the benefit of the air, but stag-
gered to the wall, exclaiming, “I am
very ill.” A poor old woman, who
was going into the chapel, lent him her
staff to support him into the house, say-
ing she would call for it when Divine
ser\ ice was over, and inquire after him.
But his time was come. Soon after he
gvas brought into the house he expired.
{(1) MR. FULLER’S SERMON.——
When the Rev. Andrew Fuller first vis-
ted Scotland, a notoriously wicked and

abandoned woman, seeing a number of
persons thronging the doors of a char el,
felt her curiosity awakened, and being
informed that an Englishman was to
preach, she mingled with the crowd,
and entered the place. Mr. Fuller took
for his text the words, “Come unto me
all ye ends of the earth, and be ye
saved.” “ I/Vhat then,” she exclaimed
in her heart, “ surely there is hope even
for me! I/Vretch as I am, I am not be-
yond the ends of the earth.” She lis-
tened with eager delight, while the good
man proclaimed the free salvation of the
gospel. Hope sprung up in her heart,
a hope which purified as well as com-
forted; and the grace of God taught
her to “deny ungodliness and worldly
lusts, and to live soberly, righteously,
and godly, in the present world.”
(6) “WHO CAN TELL ’Z’’—-‘‘ I
have heard,” says Mr. Daniel Wilson,
in a sermon of his, “of a certain per-
son, whose name I could mention, who
was tempted to conclude his day over,
and himself lost; that, therefore, it was
his best course to put an end to his life,
which, if continued, would but serve to
increase his sin, and consequently his
misery, from which there was no es-
cape; and seeing he must be in hell,
the sooner he was there the sooner he
should know the worst; which was
preferable to his being worn away with
the tormenting expectation of What was
to come. Under the influence of such
suggestions as these, he went to a river,
with a design to throw himself in; but
as he was about to do it, he seemed to
hear a voice saying to him, Wlzo can
tell? as if the words had been audibly
delivered. By this, therefore, he was
brought to a stand; his thoughts were
arrested, and thus began to work on the
passage mentioned: W/L0 can tell (J o-
nah iii. 9,) viz., what God can do
when he will proclaim his grace glori-
ous’.2 I/I/h‘0 can tell but such an one as
I may find mercy ? or what will be the
issue of humble prayer to heaven for it ‘.3
Wire can tell what purposes God will
serve in my recovery '2‘ By such
thoughts as these, being so far influ-
enced as to resolve to try, it pleased
God graciously to enable him, through
all his doubts and fears, to throw him-
346
GRATITUDE TO GOD.
188
self by faith on Jesus Christ, as able to
save to the uttermost all that come to
God by him, humbly desiring and ex-
pecting mercy for his sake, to his own
soul. In this he was not disappointed ;
-_--_r
but aftewards became an eminent Chris-
tian and minister; and from his own
experience of the riches of grace, was
greatly useful to the conversion and
comfort of others.
GRATITUDE.
188. Gratitude to God.
(a) REV. J. BROWN’S CON FES-
SION.-—“ No doubt,” said the late
Rev. J. Brown, of Haddington, Scot-
land, “I have met with trials as well as
others : yet so kind has God been to me,
that I think, if He were to give me as
many years as I have already lived in
the world, I should not desire one single
circumstance in my lot changed, except
that I wish I had less sin. It might be
written on my coflin, ‘ Here lies one of
the cares of Providence, who early
wanted both father and mother, and yet
never missed them.’ ”
(b) THE POOR FA MILY’S GRAT-
lTUDE.—-As a poor pious man was
sitting by his little fire, one cold eve-
ning, with his wife and children, he
said to them, “ I have been thinking a
great deal to-day about that part of
Scripture—‘ The Son of man hath not
where to lay his head.’ How wonder-
ful it is, that we, who are so sinful, un-
worthy, and helpless, should be more
favored than he was !” “ It is wonder-
ful, indeed, father,” said the eldest girl ;
“ for though our house is mean, and our
food scanty, compared with the houses
and way of living of great folks, yet it
seems that Jesus Christ was not so well
provided for as we are.” “I am right
glad to hear you speak in that way, Sa-
rah,” said the wife. “ How happy we
all are in our little dwelling this cold
night; and as soon as we wish we have
beds to rest ourselves upon : there,
sharp and piercing as the frost is, and
bleak and stormy as the wind blows, we
shall be comfortable and warm ; and
yet the Son of man, as your father has
just told us, ‘ had not where to lay his
head.’ Oh! that this thought may
make us thankful for our many mer-
cies !” “ Tommy,” said the father,

“ reach that hymn, which our dear min-
ister gave you last Sabbath at the Sun-
day school ; and as our hearts are in a
good frame, let us try to keep them so
by singing it.” The whole company,
father, mother, and children, then, with
a glow of sacred ardor and pleasure,
sung the hymn entitled, “The Son of
man had not where to lay his head.”
(0) LOSSES FROM RELIGION.-
An aged couple, in the vicinity of Lon-
don, who in the early part of life were
poor, but who, by the blessing of God
upon their industry, enjoyed a comfort-
able independency in their old age
were called upon by a Christian minis-
ter, who solicited their contributions to
a charity. The old lady was disposed
to make out some excuse, and to an-
swer in the negative, both for her hus-
band and herself; and therefore re.
plied, “Why, sir, we have lost a deal
by religion since we began: my hus-
band knows that very well.” And be-
ing willing to obtain her l1usband’s con-
sent to the assertion, she said, “ Have
we not, Thomas?” Thomas, after a
long and solemn pause, replied, “ Yes,
Mary, we have lost a deal by our reli-
gion ! I have lost a deal by my religion.
Before I got religion, Mary, I had got
a water pail, in which I carried water,
and that you knowl lost many years
ago. And then I had an old slouched
hat, a patched pld coat, and mended
shoes and stockings; but I ha\e lost
them also long ago. And, Mar; , you
know that, poor as I was, I had a habit
of getting drunk, and quarreling with
you; and that you know I have lost.
And then I had a burdened conscience,
and a wicked heart; and then Ihad ten
thousand guilty feelings and fears : but
all are lost, completely lost, and like a
millstone cast into the deepest sea.
And, Mary, you have been a loser too,
347
I88, 189
GRA l‘l'l‘UDE TO MAN.

though not so great a loser as myself.
Before we got religion, Mary, you had
got a washing-tray, in which you wash-
ed for hire ; and God Almighty blessed
your industry: but since we got reli-
gion, you have lost your washing-tray.
And you had got a gown and bonnet
.nuch the worse for wear, though they
were all you had to wear; but you
have lost them long ago. And you had
many an aching heart concerning me,
at times; but those you happily have
lost. And I could even wish that you
had lost as much as I have lost, and
even more ; for what we lose by our
religion, Mary, will be our eternal
gain.” We need not add, the preacher
did not go away without substantial
proof that Thomas deemed his losses for
religion his most weighty obligations to
the goodness of Almighty God, as the
richest been of grace on earth, and the
most authentic pledge of glory in the
world to come.
(cl) ORIGIN OF THANKSGIV-
ING DAY.--When New England was
first planted, the settlers met with many
difficulties and hardships, as is necessa-
rily the case when a civilized people
attempt to establish themselves in a wil-
derness country. Being piously dis-
posed, they sought relief from Heaven,
by laying their wants and distresses be-
fore the Lord in frequent set days of
fasting and prayer. Constant medita-
tion, and discourse on the subject of
their difficulties, ' kept their minds
gloomy and discontented, and, like the
children of Israel, there were many dis-
posed to return to theland which perse-
cution had determined them to abandon.
At length, when it was proposed in
the assembly to proclaim another fast, a
farmer, of plain sense, rose, and re-
marked, that the inconveniences they
suffered, and concerning which they had
so often wearied Heaven with their
complaints, were not so great as might
have been expected, and were diminish-
ing every day as the colony strengthen-
ed; that the earth began to reward
their labors, and to furnish liberally for
their sustenance; that the seas and riv-
ers were full of fish, the air sweet, the
climate wholesome; above all, they
were in the full enjoyment of liberty,

ifl
civil and religious. He therefore
thought, that reflecting and conversing
on these subjects would be more com-
fortable, as tending to make them more
contented with their situation ; and
that it would be more becoming the
gratitude they owed to the Divine Be-
ing, if, instead of a fast, they should
proclaim a thanksgiving. His advice
was taken ; and, from that day to this,
they have in every year observed cir-
cumstances of public happiness sufficient
to furnish employment for a thanksgiv-
ing day.
(6) APT SAYING OF BOWDLER
-—Sir W. W. Pepys, in a letter to Mrs.
Hannah More, 1825, says, “ VVe are just
now reading in an evening a memoir
of Mr. J olm Bowdler, written by his son,
which shows him to have been worthy
of that excellent family to which he be-
longed. I have long known and highly
respected Thomas Bowdler, but of John
I knew nothing, except an admirable
saying, which I remember was attribu-
ted to him, some years ago, when it was
the fashion to lament over the state of
this unhappy country. “If,” said he,
“ a man were to go from the northern
to the southern extremity of this island,
with his eyes shut and his ears open,
he would think that the country was
sinking into an abyss of destruction:
but if he were to return with his ears
shut and his eyes open, he would be
satisfied that we had the greatest reason
to be thankful for our prosperity.”
189. Gratitude to Man.
(a) “ WHY DO YOU PLAN'I‘
TREES ?”—A very poor and aged man,
busied in planting and grafting an apple
tree, was rudely interrupted by the in-
terrogation, “ Why do you plant trees,
who cannot hope to eat the fruit of them?”
He raised himself up, and, leaning upon
his spade, replied, “ Some one planted
trees before I was born, and I have eat-
en the fruit ; I new plant for others,
that the memorial of my gratitude may
exist whenI am dead and gone.”
(b) GRATITUDE FOR GRATI-.
TUDE.--A complete reverse having
taken place in a gentleman’s circum
stances, by his too great readiness to
318
‘ tains.
HAPPINESS,
RELIGIOUS. I89, 19:!

-_-'_-,-__.n —-
lend his money to tl JSG who deceived
him, he was obliged in his old age to
dismiss all his domestics. It was, how-
ever, his happiness to have one among
them, who, knowing the cause, said to
him with tears, “ I have now, sir, been
your servant five-and-twenty years; I
have always honored and respected
you' you have treated me with the
kindness of a master, a father, and a
friend. I have saved some scores of
pounds in your service, that I might be
comfortable in my old age ; but I can-
not live in peace, while I see you in dis-
tress. To you, under the good care of
Providence, I owe my life 5 to you I am
indebted for much good instruction, and
for the salvation of my soul. I beg you
will accept of my purse, and all it con-
He that feedeth the ravens, and
letteth not a sparrow fall unheeded to
the ground, will not forsake me! I am
yet able for service: suffer me to at-
tend your fortunes, and be your servant
still.” She drew tears from her old
master by these and other affectionate
expressions ; he wept at her generosity,
accepted her offer of service, and she
remained with him.
Now, reader, mark the result; and
be encouraged to every act of kindness
to others within your power, especially
to those from whom you have derived
your best enjoyments, and who may
have seen better days. Not long after
she had resumed her place, a relation
of her master died, and left him a good
fortune. How must this have rejoiced
the heart of a servant so attached! But
one particular yet remains. \Vhen her
master died, he bequeathed this faithful
servant a comfortable maintenance.
(0) MR. CATHCART’S DIARY.—
Mr. Cathcart, of Drum, was in the prac-
tice of keeping a diary, which however
mcluded one particular department,
HAPPINESS,
190. In Perils and Dangers.
(a) CHRISTIAN CALMNESS.-_
“Some impressions,” says a young
man, who went out as a missir nary to

seldom to be found in like cases. Mr.
Cathcart describes his plan and object
in the following words :——“ A memo1ia1
of acts of kindness, that as memory is
liable to fail, and as the kindness and
friendship of former times may be for-
gotten, the remembrance of friendly
offices done to the writer or to his
family, or to his particular friends,
might be preserved, in order that he
may himself repay the debt in grateful
acknowledgements while he lived, and
that his family after him might know to
whom their father owed obligationt, and
might feel every debt of gratitude due
by him as obligations on themselves.”
(d) THE GRATEFUL NEGRO.
-—An Englishman, a native of York-
shire, going to reside at Kingston, in
Jamaica, was reduced from a state of
affluence to very great distress; so
much so, that in the time of sickness
he was destitute of home, money, med-
icine, food, and friends. Just in this
time of need, an old negro Christian
offered his assistance; which being
gladly accepted, this “ neighbor to him”
bought medicine, and administered it
himself; furnished nourishment; sat
up three nights; and, in short, acted
the part of doctor, nurse, and host.
Through the blessing of God, the old
negro’s efforts were rendered success-
ful in the recovery of the sick man:
who then inquired what expenses he
had been at, and promised remuneration
as soon as possible. The generous old
Christian replied, “ Massa, you no owe
me nothing ; me owe you much still.”
“How do you make that out Cl” said
the restored man. “ \Vhy, massa, me.
neber able to pay you; because you
taught me to read de word of God i”
This reply so affected the man, that he
resolved, from that time, to seek the
Lord.
RELIGIOUS.
the heathen, “of the importance and
necessity of true religion, were made
upon my mind at a very early period.
The first particular one that I recollect
was, Ithink, when I was about five
349
[90
RELIGIOUS.
HAPPINESS,
years of age. 'I Here happened one day
a very violent storm of thunder and
lighming in our neighborhood ; on
which occasion a few Christian friends,
who lived near us, terrified by its vio-
lence, came into my father’s house.
When under his roof, in a moment there
came a most vivid flash, followed by a
dreadful peal of thunder, which much
alarmed the whole company except my
father, who turning towards my mother
and our friends, with the greatest com-
posure, repeated these words of Dr.
Watts:
“ The God that rules on high,
And thunde1s when he please ;
That ndes upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas:
This awful God is 01118 ;
Our father and our love,” &c.
These words, accompanied with such
circumstances, sunk deep into my heart.
I thought how safe and happy are those
who have the great God for their father
and friend ; but, being conscious that I
had sinned against him, I was afraid he
was not my father, and that, instead of
loving me, he was angry with me ; and
this, for some time after, continued to
distress and grieve my mind.” He
then proceeds to say, that these early
impressions were succeeded by others
which terminated in his conversion.
(1)) PASSENGERS OF THE
KENT.——The efficacy of faith in the
word of God, to support the mind in the
hour of trouble, has often been the sub-
ject of conversation, and its power has
been very strikingly illustrated. The
writer of the interesting “NARRATIVE
or THE Loss or THE KENT EAST IN-
DIAMAN,” in 1825, states that, when
that vessel was on fire, several of the
soldiers’ wives and children, who had
fled for temporary shelter into the after-
cabins on the upper deck, were engaged
in prayer and in reading the Scrip’ tres
with the ladies, some of whom were
enabled, with wonderful self-possession,
to offer to others those spiritual consola-
tions, which a firm and intelligent trust
in the Redeerr er of the world appeared
at this awful hour to impart to their own
breasts. The dignified deportment of
two young ladies, in particular, formed
a specimen of natural strength of mind,
a-—— ‘* _-_v
finely modified by Christian feeling,
that failed not to attract the notice and
admiration of every one who had an op-
portunity of witnessing it. On the me-
lancholy announcement being made to
them, that all hope must be relinquish-
ed, and that death was rapidly and in-
evitably approaching, one of the ladies
above referred to, calmly sinking down
on her knees, and clasping her hands
together, said, “Even so, come, Lord
Jesus!” and immediately proposed to
read a portion of the Scriptures to those
around her; her sister, with nearly
equal composure and collectedness of
mind, selected the forty-sixth and other
appropriate Psalms; which were ac-
cordingly read, with intervals of prayer,
by those ladies alternately, to the as-
sembled females.
(0) THE CAPTAIN AND THE
PILOT.—-A pious captain, when sail-
ing down the Mississippi, had the mis-
fortune to have his vessel so much in-
jured, that there was great danger of the
loss of both ship and cargo. Though
placed in this perilous situation, he ma-
nifested a composure which evinced that
his mind was stayed on his God, while
he omitted nothing that could be done
to save the property intrusted to his care.
While in this situation, there came
to his aid one of the pilots on that station,
who, by his own account, neither feared
God nor regarded man; and, after of-
fering his services, began to storm and
swear. After alittle time, however, he
began to contrast his conduct with the
captain’s and said to himself, “How is
it that, while I have nothing at risk, I
am swearing as though it were mine;
and the captain, who has property and
reputation at stake, seems perfectly
calm? It must be his religion, and, as
I have a Bill 2 on board my boat. I will
immediately commence reading it, and
see if I can find what his religion is.”
He did read, and the Spirit of God ap-
plied the truth. He became convinced
that he was a lost sinner, and that with-
out the religion which he had seen so
impressively exhibited, he must be lost.
Conviction resulted in conversion ; and
he afterwards called on the captain, to
tell him what the Lord had done for his
soul.
350
IN ILLNESS—MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES.
191,192
191. In Illness.
(a) APOSTOLICAL REPLY.-“II
was called upon,” says the Rev. Mr.
Trefit, an American minister, “some
years ago, to visit an individual, a part
of whose face had been eaten away by
a most loathsome cancer. Fixing my
eyes on this man in his agony, I said,
‘ Supposing that Almighty God were to
give you your choice: whether would
you prefer, your cancer, your pain, and
your sufferings, with a certainty of
death before you, but of immortality
hereafter; or, health, prosperity, long
life in the world, and the risk of losing
your immortal soul '2’ ‘ Ah, sir !’ said
the man, ‘give me the cancer, the pain,
the Bible, the hope of heaven ; and
others may take the world, long life, and
ros erit !’ ”
(Z2) THE CABINET OF JEVVELS.
—As I entered the apartment where a
sick person was confined, says a gentle-
man in England, she looked at me with
a peaceful smile upon her countenance,
and, grasping my hand, exclaimed, “I
know you are one of the servants of my
Lord and Master, by coming with my
worthy kind friend. Oh, how good,
how very good is my dear Savior, in
sending one and another of his children to
visit so poor and worthless a sinner as I
am! I weep, but they are not the tears
of grief, but of gratitude.” She re-
quested me to sit down by her bed-side,
and said, “‘As you are a stranger, let
me tell you what the Lord my God hath
done for my soul. You perceive, dear
sir, I am in the furnace; but my hap-
piness is this, that Zion’s God sits by as
the skilful refiner, watching with an ob-
servant eye, that nothing be lost but
that which is vile and refuse ; and when
I am thoroughly tried, I shall come forth
like gold seven times purified, either to
join the celestial choirs, or to be spared
a little longer in the world, that I may
honor Him that remembered me in my
low estate. And shall I tell you, dear
sir, that I have been confined to this bed
eighteen months, but not one moment
too long ; no! thanks be to his dear
name, I have had the stafl' of consolation
to support me. as well as his rod to cor-

rect me, and every twig of it is an em.
blem of love.”
192. Miscellaneous Examples
(a) ONE OF THE DAYS OF
I-IEAVEN.——Mr. Flavel, at one time
on a journey, set himself to improve his
time by meditation ; when his mind
grew intent, till at length he had such
ravishing tastes of heavenly joy, and
such full assurance of his interest there-
in, that he utterly lost the sight and
sense of this world and all its concerns,
so that he knew not where he was. At
last, perceiving himself faint through a
great loss of blood from his nose, he
alighted from his horse, and sat down at
a spring, where he washed and refresh-
ed himself, earnestly desiring, if it were
the will of God, that he might there
leave the world. His spirits reviving,
he finished his journey in the same de-
lightful frame. He passed that night
without any sleep, the joy of the Lord
still ove-rflowing him, so that he seemed
an inhabitant of the other world. After
this, a heavenly serenity and sweet
peace long continued with him ; and for
many years he called that day “ one of
the days of heaven I” and professed that
he understood more of the life of heaven
by it, than by all the discourses he had
heard, or the books he ever read.
(Z2) GLORIOUS VIEWS OF GOD.
—The Rev. William Tennent had
preached one Lord’s day morning to
his congregation, and in the intermis-
sion had walked into the woods for med-
itation, the weather being warm. He
was reflecting on the infinite wisdom of
God, as manifested in all his works, and
particularly in the wonderful method of
salvation through the death and suffer-
ings of his beloved Son. This subject
suddenly opened on his mind with such
a flood of light, that his views of the
glory and the infinite majesty of Jeho-
vah were so inexpressibly great, as en-
tirely to overwhelm him; and he fell
almost lifeless to the ground. I/Vhen he
had revived a little, all he could do was
to raise a fervent prayer, that God
would withdraw himself from him, or
that he must perish under a view of his
ineffable glory. VVhen able to reflect
351
192
HAPPINESS, RELIGIU US.
/

on his situation, he could not but abhor
himself as a weak and despicable worm ;
and seemed to be overcome with aston-
ishment, that a creature so unworthy
and insufiicient, had ever dared to at-
tempt the instruction of his fellow men
in the nature and attributes of so glori-
ous a Being. Overstaying his usual
time, some of his elders went in search
of him. and found him prostrate on the
ground, unable to rise, and incapable of
informing them of the cause. They
raised him up, and, after some time,
brought him to the church, and support-
ed him to the pulpit, which he ascend-
ed on his hands and knees, to the no
small astonishment of the congregation.
He remained silent a considerable time,
earnestly supplicating Almighty God to
hide himself from him, that he might be
enabled to address his people, who were
by this time lost in wonder to know
wnat had produced this uncommon
event. His prayers were heard, and
he became able to stand up, by holding
the desk: and in a most affecting and
pathetic address, he gave an account of
the views he had of the infinite wisdom
of God, and deplored his own incapaci-
ty to speak to them concerning a Being
so infinitely glorious beyond all his
powers of description. He then broke
out into so fervent and expressive a
prayer, as greatly to surprise the con-
gregation, and draw tears from every
eye. A sermon followed which con-
tinued the solemn scene, and made very
lasting impressions on the hearers.
(c) ENJOYING GOD.—I have here,
said Rev. Mr. Fuller, two religious
characters, who were intimately ac-
quainted in early life. Providence fa-
vored one of them with a tide of pros-
perity. The other, fearing for his
friend, lest his heart should be over-
charged with the cares of this life and
the deceitfulness of riches, one day ask-
ed him whether he did not find prosper-
ity a snare to him. He paused, and
answered, “I am not conscious that I
do, for I enjoy God in all things.”
Some years after, his affairs took anoth-
er turn. He lost, if not the whole, yet
the far greater part of what he had
once gained, and was greatly reduced.
His old friend being one day in his

company, renewed his question, wheth
er he did not find what had lately be
fallen him to be too much for him.
Again he paused, and answered, “ I am
not conscious that I do, for now I enjoy
all things in God.” This was truly a
life of faith.
((1) POOR MAN’S GRATITUDE.
—A gentleman of very considerable
fortune, but a stranger both to personal
and family religion, one evening took a
solitary walk through part of his
grounds. He happened to come near
to a mean but, where a poor man lived
with a numerous family, who earned
their bread by daily labor. He heard
a continued and pretty loud voice. Not
knowing what it was, curiosity prompt-
ed him to listen. The man, who was
piously disposed, happened to be at
prayer with his family. So soon as he
could distinguish the words, he heard
him giving thanks, with great affection,
to God for the goodness of his provi-
dence, in giving them food to eat and
raiment to put on, and in supplying
them with what was necessary and
comfortable in the present life. He
was immediately struck with astonish-
ment and confusion, and said to himself,
“ Does this poor man, who has nothing
but the meanest fare, and that pur-
chased by severe labor, give thanks to
God for his goodness to himself and fam-
ily; and I, who enjoy ease and honor,
and every thing that is pleasant and de-
sirable, have hardly ever bent my knee,
or made any acknowledgment to my
Maker and Preserver !” It pleased
God to make this providential occur-
rence the means of bringing him to a
real and lasting sense of religion.
(6) THE FAMILY HERITAGE.—-
The Rev: W. Thorpe, of Bristol, (Eng.)
was once preaching in London, from
Rom. viii. 28: “We know that all
things work together for good to them
that love God, to them who are the called
according to his purpose.” After re-
marking that these words were doubtless
intended for the common benefit of the
Christian church, he added, “ But I have
looked upon them likewise as a kind of
family heritage. They formed the favor-
1te textof my venerated father, who found
in it consolation and support in the course
352
MISCELLANEOUS EXAMPLES.
192
-
of a difficult and laborious ministry. It
was no less dear to the heart of my
mother, who used to quote it in her easy
chair, and on her pillow of rest. When
the weight of affliction overcame her
feelings in the hour of trial, then she
used to say, ‘ Let me sit down and rest
myself, for we know that all things
work together for good to them that
love God, to them who are the called
according to his purpose.’ My father
was removed in the midst of his pious
career, and in the vigor of his manhood,
leaving behind him a large and unedu-
cated family, and but little of the goods
of earth. My mother was then confined
in childbed, having been delivered the
day before my father expired. The
last words uttered by him to my mother,
in this distressing situation were, ‘ Call
the child Christiana ; all things must
work together for good to them that love
God.’ To make the measure of sorrow
full, it happened that all the rivers of
the neighborhood were overflowing at
that season, causing on all sides incon-
venience, damage, and distress ; and
the water was a foot deep on the ground-
floor of the house! Still she always
affirmed that this season of calamity
was the happiest period of her life, in
which she derived the fulness of consola-
tion from the words of our text. VVhen,
a few days after my father had been
carried to his place of rest, our house
was robbed of every thing that could be
borne away, and also of the last quar-
ter’s salary which my mother had re-
ceived ; and when, having discovered
our loss, my eldest sister ran breathless
into her mother’s chamber, exclaiming,
‘ Mother, the thieves have stolen all we
had in this world; will this also work
together for good '2’ this Christian re-
plied, ‘ Yes, for we know that all things
work together for good to them that
love God.’ And the result justified her
confidence.”
(f) GLORYING IN TRIBULA-
TION.——Guy de Brez, a French minis-
ter, was prisoner in the castle of Tour-
nay, in Belgium. A lady who visited
him said, “She wondered how he could
eat, or drink, or sleep in quiet.” “ Mad-
am,” said he, “ my chains do not terrify
ne, or break my sleep ; on the contrary,

I glory and take delight therein, es.
teeming them at a higher rate than
chains and rings of gold, or jewels 1f
any price whatever. The rattling of
my chains is like the effect of an in::tru-
ment of music in my ears: not that
such an effect comes merely from my
chains, but it is because I am bound
therewith for main.aining the truth of
the os el.”
(g) HOWARD IN TRIALS.-—The
celebrated philantl ropist, Howard, who
spent the best part of his life in travel-
ing over all the countries of Europe,-—
“to plunge into the infection of hosp.
tals,—to survey the mansions of sorrow
and pain,—-to remember the forgotten,
and to visit the forsaken, under all
climes,”-—was not unhappy amidst his
toils. In a letter from Riga, during his
last journey, he says, “I hope I have
sources of enjoyment that depend not on
the particular spot I inhabit; a rightly
cultivated mind, under the power of re-
ligion and the exercise of beneficent
dispositions, affords a ground of satisfac-
tion little affected by hares and theres.”
(It) SCIENCE AND RELIGION.
—-It was a usual saying of Pascal, that
the sciences produced no consolation in
the times of affliction; but the know-
ledge of Christianity was a comfort both
in adversity, and defect of all other
knowledge.
(i) THE CRIPPLE AND HIS BI-
BLE.—-At a meeting of the Blackheath
Auxiliary Bible Society, in the year
1815, Dr. Gregory, of VVoolwich, ( Eng.)
related the following very interesting
facts :—-More than twelve months ago,
I went, pursuant to the request of a
poor, but benevolent-hearted woman in
my neighborhood, to visit an indigent
man deeply afllicted. On entering the
cottage, I found him alone, his wife
having gone to procure him milk from a
kind neighbor. I was startled by the
sight of a pale, emaciated man, a living
image of death, fastened upright in his
cnair, by a rude mechanism of cords
and belts hanging from the ceiling. He
was totally unable to move either hand
or foot, having more than four years
been entirely deprived of the use of his
limbs, yet the whole time suffering ex-
treme anguish from swellings at all his
353
I92 HAPPINESS,
RELIGIOUS.
joints. As soon as I had recovered ‘a influence of chastened and holy feeling,
ittle from my surprise at seeing so piti- addressed his congregation from the
able an object, I asked, “Are you left
alone, my friend, in this deplorable
situation ’i” “ No, sir,” replied he, in
a touchingly feeble tone of mild resigna-
tion, (nothing but his lips and eyes
moving while he spake,) “I am not
alone, for God is With me.” On ad-
vancing,I soon discovered the secret of
his striking declaration ; for his wife
had left on his knees, propped with a
cushion formed for the purpose, a Bible,
lying open at a favorite portion of the
Psalms of David! I sat down by him,
and conversed with him. On ascertain-
ing that he had but a small weekly al-
lowance certain, I inquired how the re-
mainder of his wants were supplied.
“ Why, sir,’ ’ said he, “ ’tis true, as you
say, seven shillings a week would never
support us; but, when it is gone, I rely
upon the promise I found in this book :
‘ Bread shall be given him; his waters
shall be sure ;’ and I have never been
disappointed yet; and so long as God is
faithful to his word, I never shall.” I
asked him if he ever felt tempted to re-
pine under the pressure of so long-con-
tinued and heavy a calamity. “Not
for the last three years,” said he,
“blessed be God for it;” the eye of
faith sparkling and giving life to his
pallid countenance while he made the
declaration: “ for 1 have learned from
this book in whom to believe: and,
though I am aware of my weakness and
unworthiness,I am persuaded that He
will ‘not leave me, nor forsake me.’
And so it is, that often, Wht-1‘. my lips
are closed with locked jaw, and I can-
not speak to the glory of God, He ena-
bles me to sing His praises in my heart.”
Gladly would I sink into the obscuri-
ty of the same cottage; gladly even
would I languish in the same chair;
could I but enjoy the same uninterrupt-
ed communion with God, be always
filled with the same “strong consola-
tion,” and constantly behold, with equal-
ly vivid percey tion, the same celestial
crown sparkling before me.
(j) EXAMPLE OF HALL.-—Mr.
Hall, after the death of one of his chil-
dren, appeared as usual in l11S pulpit on
the following Sabbath, and, under the

language of David, after he had been
deprived of his son: “ I shall go to him,
but he shall not return to me.” He
very properly remarked, that while the
child was living, but doomed to die, the
aifiicted saint fasted, prayed, and wept,
if peradventure his days might still be
prolonged ; but when the event was de-
cided, he evinced his fortitude and deep
submission to the will of Heaven. He
arose from the earth, changed his mourn-
ing attire, and went up to the house of
the Lord. The ordinary custom of ab-
staining from public worship, was ac-
commodating ourselves to the false
maxims of the world, and injurious to
our spiritual interests. In a season of
calamity, whither should we go, but to
Him who alone is able to sustain and
comfort us, and to the place where he
has promised to meet with us and
bless us’.2
(kl JOY IN GRIEF.—-The Cleve-
land Herald relates the following touch-
ing incident, connected with the burn-
ing of the steamboat Vermillion, on
Lake Erie:
“Among the sufferers was a young
man by the name of ROBINSON, mate of
the schooner Ohio. Young and active,
he delighted in his profession, and bid
fair to become an ornament to it. He
had but a day or two before united him-
self in that ‘holiest of ties, wedded love,’
to the fair girl of his choice; and was
on the way with his bride to spend the
‘ honey-moon’ with his aged mother,
who resides in this city, when death,
with all its most appalling horrors, came
upon them both in a moment, and sum-
moned them hence to that ‘ bourne from
whence no traveller returns.’
“ The mother was anxiously expen-
ing their arrival, when the sad news of
their untimely fate was communicated
to her. Folding her hands upon her
breast, and lifting her eyes to heaven,
she exclaimed in the spirit of the true
Christian,——‘ The Lord gave, and the
Lord hath taken away; blessed be the
name of the Lord.’ ”
(Z) A SINGULAR BOND.--I have
read of a godly man, says Mr. Brooks,
who living near a philosopher often
354
HEARERS OF THE GOSPEL.
-
192, 193

strove to persuade him to become a
Christian. Oh, but, said the philosopher,
I must, or may, lose my all for Christ.
To which the good man replied, If you
lose any thing for Christ, he will repay
it a hundred-fold. Ay, but, said the
pnilosopher, will you be bound for
Christ, that if he doth not pay me, you
will ’.l Yes, that I will, said the good
man ! So the philosopher became a
Christian, and the good man entered in-
to bond for the performance of covenants.
Some time after it happened that the
philosopher fell sick. On his death-bed,
and holding the bond in his hand, he sent
for the party engaged, to whom he gave
up the bond, and said, Christ hath paid
all, there is nothing for you to pay ; take
your bond and cancel it ; no man shall

ever have occasion to say that he has
been loser by Christ.
(172) GOD WITH THE EXILES
——I have read, says Brooks, of a com-
pany of poor Christians who were ban-
ished into some remote part; and one
standing by seeing them pass along,
said, that it was a very sad condition
those poor people were in, to be thus
hurried from the society of men and
made companions With the beasts of the
field. True, said another, it were a sad
condition indeed if they were carried to
a place where they should not find their
God ; but let them be of good cheer God
goes along with them, and will exznbit
the comforts of his presence whitherso-
ever they go. God’s presence with his
people is a spring that never fails.
193. HEARERS OF THE GOSPEL.
(a) INFLUENCE OF FAULT-
FINDING.—-The Rev. Mr. Beckwith
says :—-“ I was once conversing with a
young and successful minister of the
gospel, who related to me the following
circumstances. VVhen he was quite a
child, he heard a minister preach on
repentance. This was on the forenoon
of a Sabbath. His feelings were ex-
cited, and he had almost determined,
before the conclusion of the sermon, to
perform the duty without delay. In
this state of mind he went to the house
of God in the afternoon, and heard the
same minister on the judgment. He
was still -more deeply impressed, and
came to the resolution to attend to re-
ligion immediately. But, as he passed
from the sanctuary, he overheard two
professing Christians conversing on the
sermon. ‘A very solemn discourse,’
said one. ‘Yes,’ replied the other,
but—-’ and he proceeded to make some
critical remark, the effect of which was,
for that time at least, to erase all serious
impressions from the mind of the
youth.” How often do we witness this
evil I
(b) BURNING THE BUSHEL—-
--A poor woman went to hear a sermon,
wherein, among other evil practices

the use of dishonest weights and mea-
sures was exposed. \/Viththis discourse
she was much affected. The next day
when the minister, according to his cus-
tom, went among his hearers, and called
upon the woman, he took occasion to
ask her what she remembered of his
sermon. The poor woman complained
much of her bad memory. and said she
had forgotten almost all that he deliver-
ed. “ But one thing,” said she, “ I re-
membered; I remembered to burn my
bushel.” A deer of the word cannot be
a forgetful hearer.
(0) THE DEAF VVORSHIPER.
—-“ I have in my congregation,” said a
venerable minister of the gospel, “ a
worthy aged woman, who has for many
years been so deaf as not to distin-
guish the loudest sound, and yet she is
always one of the first in the meeting.
On asking the reason of her constant at-
tendance (as it was impossible for her to
hear my voice), she answered, ‘ Though
I cannot hear you, I come to God’s
house becausel love it, and would be
found in his ways; and he gives me
many a sweet thought upon the text
when it is pointed out to me: another
reason is because there I am in the best
company, in the more immediate pres-
‘ 355
193 HEARERS OF
THE GOSPEL.

ence of God, and among his saints, the
honorable of the earth. I am not sat-
rsfied with serving God in private; it is
my duty and privilege to honor him
regularly in public.’ ” What a reproof
this is to those who have their hearing,
and yet always come to a place of wor-
ship late or not at all I
(d) “ YOU AND ME.”—When sit-
ting under the ministry of a devoted
servant of God, says a gentleman, he
on one occasion preached upon the
Diotrephesian spirit. In his usual faith-
ful manner, he pointed out its sad
effects upon a church, until in his ap-
plication he came so close, that I was
surprised, knowing, as I did, how de-
lightful the harmony had always been
in that church. I soon’ began to per-
suade myself, however, that there was
a Diotrephes there, but could not sat-
isfy myself who it was. Finally, I
ventured to seek information. and turn-
ing to a good brother, an elder in the
church, I said, Mr. L , who DOES
Mr. S. mean? “ You and me,” was his
quick reply. I have never asked
since, who my minister meant, when he
was delivering the message of his
Master.
(e) FAULT-FINDING AND
PRAYING.—Two young men, who
were members of the same church in
New England, were one day engaged
in conversation respecting their minis-
te-r; when one asked the other, “ Are
you interested in our pastor’s preach-
in ?” “Yes,” replied the other, “I
am indeed; I derive instruction and
profit from his discourses.” “Well,”
said his friend, “I am sure I can’t feel
so 5 I am very far from being interested
in his labors, or getting any benefit from
them.” “ Perhaps,” rejoined the other,
“you don’t pray for our minister; do
you '2” “No, I confess I do not.”
" VVell, it strikes me that your neglect

of this duty explains your Want of in-
terest in his ministry. Now let me
urge you to remember him daily ir.
your c oset supplications, andl presume
the more you are exercised in praying
for him, the more you will be blessed
in hearing from him.” The fault-find-
ing brother took the advice; and some
months afterwards he met with his
friend and stated the result. He had
given his minister a large place in his
petitions, and meanwhile his minister
had taken an equally large place in his
affections; and if the minister derived
no benefit from his praying, he surely
derived reat benefit from his preaching.
f) HR. CHALMERS’ CONGRE-
GATION.—--It is well known, that the
genius and eloquence of this popular
clergyman, during his stay in Glasgow,
attracted immense crowds to his church,
and the feeling of disappointment when
a stranger entered his pulpit, was but
too visible for any one to mistake it.
On one occasion the Rev. Dr. of
,having made an exchange with
Dr. Chalmers, was so struck and irri-
tated, on entering the pulpit, with the
reluctant advance of the assembling
auditory, and the quick retreat of many
from the pews, that he stood up, and ad-
dressing the congregation, said, “ We
will not begin the public worship of
God, till the chaff blows off.” We
need not say that these words had the
desired effect, and that the audience be-
came stationary under this severe re-
buke.
(g) HEARING AND PRAYING.
-Mr. Philip Henry notes in his diary
the saying of a pious hearer of his own,
as what much affected him :-——“ I find it
easier,” said the good man, “to go six
miles to hear a sermon, than to spend
one quarter of an hour in meditating
and praying over it in secret, as I should,
when I come home.”


836

HEAVEN, VIEWS AND F ORETASTES OF. 194
I94. HEAVEN, VIEWS AND FORETASTES OF.
(a) DYING SAYING OF PRES- therefore, the soul of man? And if
TON.—The more you are acquainted
with God while you live, the more wil-
ling you will be to die, to go to him;
for death, to a child of God, is nothing
else but a resting with God, in whose
bosom he hath often been by’ holy me-
ditation, when he was alive. Dr. Pres-
ton, when he was dying, used these
words : “ Blessed/ be God, though I
change my place I shall not change my
company ; for I have walked with God
while living, and now I go to rest with
God.”
(Z2) THREE WONDERS IN
HEAVEN . —John Newton said,
“When I get to heaven, I shall see
three wonders there ;—the first wonder
will be to see many people there whom
I did not expect to see——the second won-
der will be to miss many people whom
I did expect to see—and the third, and
greatest wonder of all, will be to find
myself there.”
(0) DISTINCTIONS OF NO SER-
VICE.-—A distinguished character had
an extraordinary mark of distinction
and honor sent him by his prince as he
lay on his death-bed. “ Alas I” said be,
looking coldly upon it, “ this is a mighty
fine thing in this country; but I am
just going to a country where it will be
of no service to me.”
(cl) “I SHALL KNOI/V BY NEXT
CHRISTMAS.” -— The author of a
pamphlet, entitled, “ Circumstantial De-
tails of the Last Moments of Mr. Fox,”
relates the following particulars :--A
nobleman mentioning that he had form-
ed a party of pleasure for Christmas, in
which he had included Mr. Fox, added,
“ It will be a new scene, sir; and I
think you will approve of it.” “ I shall
indeed be in a new scene by Christmas
next,” said Mr. Fox. “ My lord, what
do you think of the state of the soul
after death ?” Lord , confounded
by the unexpected turn of the conversa-
tion, made no reply. Mr. Fox continu-
ed, “ That it is immortal, I am con-
vinced. The existence of the Deity is
a proof tne snirit exists ; why not.


such an essence as the soul exists, by
its nature it may exist for ever. I
I should have believed in the immortality
of the soul, though Christianity had
never existed ; but how it acts as sepa-
rated from the body, is beyond my ca-
pacity of judgment. This, however,I
shall know by next Christmas.”
(e) “YOU WILL BE A DUKE
BUT I SHALL BE A KING.”--A
consumptive disease seized the eldest
son and heir of the Duke of Hamilton,
which ended in his death. A little be-
fore his departure from the world, he
lay ill at the family seat near Glasgow.
Two ministers came to see him, one of
whom at his request prayed with him.
After the minister had prayed, the dy-
ing youth put his hand back, and took
his Bible from under his pillow, and
opened it at the passage, “ I have fought
a good fight, I have finished my course,
I have kept the faith ; henceforth there
is laid up for me a crown of righteous-
ness, which the Lord, the righteous
Judge, shall give me at that day, and
not to me only, but unto all them that
love his appearing.” “This, sirs,” said
he, “is all my comfort.” As he was
lying one day on the sofa, his tutor was
‘conversing with him on some astrono-
mical subject, and about the nature of
the fixed stars. “ Ah,” said he, “in a
little while I shall know more of this
than all of you together.” When his
death approached, he called his brother
to his bed-side, and, addressing him with
the greatest affection and seriousness,
he closed with these remarkable words:
“ And now Douglas, in a little time you
will be a duke, but I shall be a king.”
(f) THE CHILD'S ANSWERS.
—-A little child, when dying, was asked
where it was going; “ To heaven,”
said the child. “ And what makes you
wish to be there?” “ Because Christ is
there.” “But,” said a friend, “what
if Christ should leave heaven '2’
“ WVell,” said the child, “I will go
with him.”
357
I94
HEAVEN, VIEWS AND FORETASTES OF.
_-—-
) WORDS OF REV. THOMAS
II ALYBURTON.—- “ Oh, blessed be
God that I was born,” said this holy
man when dying. “I have a father and
a mother, and ten brethren and sisters
in heaven, and I shall be the eleventh.
Oh, blessed be the day that Iwas ever
born! Oh, that I were where he is!
And yet, were God to withdraw from
me, I should be weak as water. All that
I enjoy, though it be miracle on miracle,
would not support me without fresh sup-
plies from God. The thing I rejoice in
is this, that God is altogether full ; and
that in the Mediator, Christ Jesus, is all
the fulness of the Godhead, and it will
never run out. If there be such a glory
in Christ’s conduct towards me now,
what will it be to see the Lamb in the
midst of the throne! My peace hath
been like a river. Blessed be God that
I was ever born.”
(h) GLORIOUS THING TO DIE.
--Mr. N. R. Cobb, of Boston, so much
noted for his benevolence, a short time
before his death said: “Within the few
last days, I have had some glorious
views of heaven. It is indeed a glorious
thing to die. I have been active and
busy in the world. I have enjoyed it as
much as any one. God has prospered
me. I have every thing to tie me here.
I am happy in my family ; I have pro-
perty enough ; but how small and mean
does this world appear when we are on
a sick bed! Nothing can equal my en-
joyment in the near prospect of heaven.
My hope in Christ is worth infinitely
more than all other things. The blood
of Christ, the blood of Christ ; none but
Christ.”
(2') DYING IIVORDS OF MR. H. S.
GOLDING.-—A little before his death,
u hen his brother said to him, “You
seem to enjoy foretastes of heaven,” he
replied, “Oh, this is no longer a fore-
taste; this is heaven! I not only feel
the climate, but I breathe the fine am-
brosial air of heaven, and soon shall en-
joy the company!” The last words
which he was heard to utter, were,
“Glory, glory, glory.” He died in the
twenty-fourth year of his age.
(j) MR. RENWICK’S JOY.--Mr.
Renwick, the last of the Scottish mar-
tyrs, speaking of his sufferings for con-
science’ sake, says: “Enemies think
themselves satisfied that we are put to
wander in mosses, and upon mountains ;
bu even amidst the storms of these last
twe nights, I cannnot express what sweet;
times I have had, when I had no cover-
ing but the dark curtains of night. Yea,
in the silent watch, my mind was led
out to admire the deep and inexpressible
ocean of joy, wherein the whole family
of heaven swim. Each star led me to
wonder what HE must be, who is the
star of Jacob, of whom all stars borrow
their shining.”
(Ir) ADRIANUS AND THE MAR-
TYRS.—One Adrianus, in ancient
times, seeing the martyrs suffer such
grievous things in the cause of Christ,
asked, “ I/Vhat is that, which enables
them to bear such sufferings ?” One of
them replied,. “ Eye hath not seen, nor
ear heard, neither hath it entered into
the heart of man, the things which God
hath prepared for them that love him.”
These words were like apples of gold in
a ‘ network’ of silver, for they made him
not only a convert but a martyr too.
(Z) THE DYING HOTTENTOT.
—An old Hottentot having been taken
ill, was visited by Mr. Reid, a mission-
ary. He said, “ This is the message of
death I I shall now go and see the
other country, where I have never been,
but which I long to see! I am weary
of every thing here ! I commit too much
sin here. I wish to be free from it; I
cannot understand things well here, and
you cannot understand me. The Lord
has spoken much to me, hough I can-
not explain it.”
358
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC.
195
195. HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, IN CONVICTION AND
CONVERSION it
(a) THE INFIDEL AND THE
FIRST CHAPTER OF JOHN.—-
Francis J untus the younger was a con-
siderable scholar, but by no means pre-
judiced in favor of the Scriptures, as
appears by his own account, which is
as follows :——My father, who was fre-
quently reading the New Testament,
and had long observed with grief the
progressl had made in infidelity, had
put that book in my way in his library,
in order to attract my attention, if it
might please God to bless his design,
though without giving me the least inti-
mation of it. Here, therefore, I unwit-
tingly opened the New Testament, thus
providentially laid before me. At the
very first view, as I was deeply engaged
in other thoughts, that grand chapter of
the evangelist and apostle presented it-
self to me, “ In the beginning was the
VVord,” dzc. I read part of the chapter,
and was so affected, that I instantly be-
came struck with the divinity of the ar-
gument, and the majesty and authority
of the composition, as infinitely surpass-
ing the highest flights of human elo-
quence. My body shuddered ; my mind
was all in amazement; and I was so
agitated the whole day, that I scarce
knew who I was. “ Thou didst re-
member me, O Lord my God, according
to thy boundless mercy, and didst bring
back the lost sheep to thy flock.” From
that day God wrought so mightily in me
by the power of his Spirit, that I began
to have less relish for all other studies
and pursuits, and bent myself with
greater ardor and attention to every
thing which had a relation to God.
(3)) “OH THE GRACE OF GOD!”
-John Dickson was a farmer in the
parish of Ratho, near Edinburgh, and
was for a long time negligent and irre-
‘ Scnpture bids us trace all genuine cases
of conviction and conversion to the operations
of the Holy Spirit; but in the cases here pre-
sented, reason too bids us recognize this divine
agency, as the other agencies employed are not
.hose which would naturally produce such re-
suits.

ligious. It pleased God to take away
his wife, and it became necessary for
him to have a nurse in the house, who
happily was a pious woman. When
his infant daughter was about twenty
months old, she was in the room with
her father and several of his profane
companions. Most unexpectedly the
child repeated, in its infantine tones,
“ Oh the grace of God I” an exclamation
she had often heard from her nurse.
The attention of the father was thus ex-
cited, the Holy Spirit led him to deep
and serious reflections, and thus was his
conversion to God effected.
(c) “ AND HE DIED.”-—A certain
libertine, of most abandoned character,
happened to stroll into a church, where
he heard the fifth chapter of Genesis
read, stating that such and such persons
lived so long a time, and yet the con-
clusion was, they “died ;” Seth lived
912 years, “and he died ;” Enos, 905,
“ and he died.” The frequent repetition
of the words, “he died,” notwithstanding
the great length of years they had lived,
impressed him so forcibly with the
thought of death and eternity, that,
through Divine grace, he became an ex-
emplary Christian.
(d) THE PERTINENT TEXT.
——One Sabbath morning, while the Rev.
Dr. Bedell, of Philadelphia, was preach-
ing, a young man passed by, with a
number of companions, as gav and
thoughtless as himself. One of them
proposed to go into the church, saying,
“ Let us go and hear what this man has
to say, that every body is running af-
ter.” The young man made this awful
answer, “ N o, I would not go into such a
place if Christ himself was preaching.”
Some weeks atter, he was again passing
the church, and being alone, and having
nothing to do, he thought he would go
in without being observed. On opening
the door he was struck with awe at the
solemn silence of the place, though it
was much crowded. Every eye was
fixed on the preacher, who was to be-
gin lus discourse. His attention was
359
195
HCLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC
—— -_-— ’-n”_- -—--'
instantly caught by the text, “ I dis-
cerned among the youths a young man
void of understanding :” Prov. vii. 7.
His conscience was smitten by the
power of truth. He saw that he was
the young 1nan described. A view of
his profligate life passed before his eyes,
and, for the first time, he trembled un-
der the feeling of sin. He remained in
the church till the preacher and congre-
gation had passed out ; then slowly re-
turned to his home. He had early
received infidel principles, but the Holy
Spirit who had aroused him in his folly,
led him to a constant attendance on the
ministry of Dr. B., who had been the
instrument of awakening his mind. He
cast away his besetting sin, and gave him-
self to alife of virtue and holiness. He
afterwards declared openly his faith in
the Lord Jesus Christ, and his desire to
devote himself to his service.
(e ) “ WI-IAT HAST THOU
DONE FOR ME ?”—A clergyman in
Germany, wls had exercised the minis-
terial office for twelve years, while des-
titute of faith in, and love to the
Redeemer, one day was invited, by
a wealthy citizen, one of the members
of his congregation, with some other
guests, to a collation at his house. Di-
rectly opposite to him on the wall, hun
a picture of Christ on the cross, wit
two lines written under it :-
“ I did this for thee ;
What hast thou done for me 7.”
The picture caught his attention:
as he read the lines they seemed to
pierce him, and he was involuntarily
seized with a feeling he never experi-
enced before. Tears rushed into his
eyes: he said little to the comp any, and
took his leave as soon as he could. On
the way home these lines constantly
sounded in his ears,—--divine grace pre-
vented all philosophical doubts and ex-
planations from entermg his soul,-—he
could do nothing but give himself up
entirely to the overpowerng feeling:
even during the night, in his dreams,
the question stood always before his
mind, “ What hast thou done for me '2”
He died in about three months after this
remarkable and happy change in his
"-mper and views, triumphing in the

-
-_-_-_
Savior, and expressing his admiration
of his redeeming love.
“ ME TELL THE GREAT
MASSA.”—A poor black boy, the
property of a slave-holder in Africa,
having heard of the preaching of the
missionaries, felt a strong desire to go
and hear about Jesus Christ. For this
purpose he crept secretly away one
evening, but being obliged to pass un-
der the window of the house, his master
observed him, and called out, “Where
are you going ’.l” The poor fellow
came back trembling, and said, “ Me go
to hear the missionaries, massa.” “ To
hear the missionaries, indeed; if ever
you go there, you shall have nine and
thirty lashes, and be put in irons.”
With a disconsolate look, the poor black
replied, “Me tell Massa, me tell the
great Massa.” “ Tell the great Massa,”
replied the master, “ what do you
mean 1”’ “Me tell the great Massa,
the Lord in Heaven, that my 1nassa was
angry with me, because I wanted to go
and hear his word.” The master was
struck with astonishment, his color
changed, and unable to conceal his
feelings, he hastily turned away, say-
ing, “ Go along, and hear the missiona-
ries.” Being thus permitted, the poor
boy gladly complied. In the mean
time, the mind of the master became
restless and uneasy. He had not been
accustomed to think that he had a Mas-
ter in heaven, who knew and observed
all his actions; and he at length deter-
mined to follow his slave, and see if
there could be any peace obtained for
his troubled spirit ; and creeping unob-
served, he slunk into a secret corner,
and eagerly listened to the words of the
missionary. That day Mr. Kircherer
addressed the natives from those words,
——“ Lovest thou me '2” “ Is there no
poor sinner,” said he, “ who can an-
swer this question ? not one poor s-ave
who dares to confess him '2” Here tne
poor slave boy, unable to refrain any
longer, sprang up, and holding up both
his hands, while the tears streamed
down his cheeks, cried out With eager-
ness, “Yes, massa, me love the Lord
Jesus Christ ; me do love him, me love
him with all my heart.” The master
was still more astonished, and he went
360
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC.
195
home convinced of the blessings the
gospel brings, and became a decided
Christian.
THE DEAF MAN ’S CON-
V ERSION.—-One of the most remark-
able cases of conversion in the great
revival at Wilton, Ct., in 1822, was that
of an aged deaf man. This person had
not been able to hear a sermon for thirty
years, and had long been totally stupid
on the subject of religion. But without
knowing there was any such thing as a
revival in the place, he became deeply
impressed in regard to his soul. How
or by what means he could not tell;
but he was brought under pungent con-
victions, and at length led to hope and
rejoice in Christ.
(It) REMARKABLE INSTANCES
OF CONVERSION:-Rev. Roswell
Burrows, of Groton, Ct., speaking of a
great revival which occurred in 1819,
in the Second Baptist church in that
town, mentions the following facts,
which strikingly exhibit the divine
agency in conviction and conversion.
Mr. B. says: Convictions have gene-
rally taken place in the attendance on
the word preached; but in many in-
stances without any special means, and
under circumstances seemingly the
most forbidding, some of which I would
notice.
A Mr. , who had not attended
any religious meeting for six months or
more, and but one day previous was al-
most blaspheming respecting this work,
was taken on his bed at night with such
horror as to prevent further sleep, or
his taking but little sustenance for sev-
eral days’; when he went to the man
he previously hated the most of all
men, and made a most humble and peni-
tent confession of secret injuries he
had done, earnestly begging his forgive-
ness, and asking his prayers. He soon
after was brought to admire the grace
he had despised.
A similar case was that of one who
nad not attended any religious meetings
for perhaps ten years or more, and
whose conduct, a little before, had been
of the most daring nature.
In two instances, in close succession,
he Was in imminent danger; he made
premises 0 God if he would sparu him

he would fear and serve him. He ob-
tained his request in what he thought a
miraculous deliverance. In both in-
stances he turned round and laughed,
as thmlgh in defiance of God! In a
few weeks afterwards, without any spe-
cial means, either of worship, reading
or religious instruction, his awful state
was set before him.
His distress continued about two
weeks, when all hope of forgiveness left
him. In his agony of soul he was
heard in the woods more than half a
mile, which brought his neighbors to
the place to learn the cause. They
did not approach until they perceived his
voice to fail. They went to him and
found him prostrate and helpless. Soon
after they had carried him to his house,
he came to, in as great an ecstasy of joy
as any pardoned criminal ever experi-
enced.
(2') THE BUTCHER AND HIS
VVIFE.-—The Rev. Mr. Fletcher, the
pious vicar of Madely, Eng., relates
that going into the pulpit one Sabbath
morning, he could recollect no part of
his sermon, not even the text. Feeling
exceedingly perplexed in his mind, and
not willing to dismiss the people without
saying any thing, he thought that he
would endeavor to make a few remark
upon the morning’s lesson, which was
respecting the three worthies who were
cast into the furnace of fire. Finding
uncommon and unexpected enlargement
of spirit in so doing, he announced to
the congregation at the close, that if
there was any person present to whom
those remarks more particularly applied,
he desired that they would call upon
him, in the course of the week. On
Wednesday a woman called, and in-
formed him that she had been under se-
rious impressions for some time; but
that her husband, who was a butcher,
constantly opposed her, and forbid her
attending any of the religious meetings,
even at the parish church, on Sunday ,
that on the last Sabbath morning he told
her that if she should presume to go to
church, he would build up a great fire
in the oven, and throw her into it, as
soon as she came home. But she re-
solved to go, and says she, “Sir, while
you were speaking of the three young
361
195
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC.
-1-.q--— - v- -v

men who were thrown into the fiery fur-
nace, because they would not sin against
God, I thought it was just my case,
and it pleased the Lord then and there
to set my soul at liberty. I went home
with a light heart, trusting that the
Lord would be with me. When I came
near the house, I saw the flames issuing
from the oven, and knowing what a man
my husband was, I expected to be im-
mediately thrown into it. But what
was my amazement upon opening the
door, instead of being thrown into the
oven, to find my husband upon his knees
crying for mercy.” Says Mr. Fletch-
er, “ I then knew why I had forgotten
my sermon, and was led to speak upon
something else.”
A DIFFICULT CASE.-—" It is
unphiloso(phical,” says a modern writer,
“ to intro uce divine agency when ade-
quate human means are in exercise.”
Suppose we should, for argument’s sake,
grant it 5 there are still left multitudes
of problems, that this writer and kindred
errorists will not easily solve ; cases
where “ adequate human means” were
not in exercise. Were any such means
employed in the following instance '2
A young man who was very thought-
less and negligent of religion, and to
Whom no person had spoken on the sub-
ject, as he was standing engaged in an
engrossing employment, became sud-
denly and remarkably impressed with a
sense of the being and character of God.
His unutterable emotions were not those
of fear, but of reverence, solemnity and
tenderness. His mental exclamation was,
“ Oh the being, the majesty, the goodness
of God! And how have I neglected
Him !” His frame trembled, and tears,
floods of tears, gave vent to his feelings.*
Was there any adequate human
means here’.2 Do men get excited upon
politics, poetry or philosophy in this
way’.Z How can any body he so wil-
fully blind to the operations of God’s
Spirit, as to say such convictions are all
very natural and no special tower of
‘God exhibited in them ’?
(la) “ THE VVIND BLOVVETH,
&c.”—It was on Sunday evening follow-
img the old Thanksgiving in Mass.,
* See “ Letters on Revivals ”

(says a writer in the S. S. Treasury,)
that I left my father’s house to attend a
religious meeting in the neighborhood.
The moon, as I distinctly recollect, had
just appeared above the horizon, and
cast its gentle beams full in my face,
while all around was hushed in silent
repose. I had Walked but a few steps,
when a strange solemnity stole in upon
my heart. Whence it came I knew
not. Why I should feel thus,I could
not tell. But I was solemn, I was
grieved : and as I walked slowly along,
my burden increased, for a burden it
was, and while I live I shall not forget
the spot where I thought I should soon
be pressed down to the earth.
At length I reached the place of wor
ship. it was a private house that had
seen many a hard wmter, the humble
abode ofa widow in Israel. I entered
and took my seat with some boys of my
own age 5 I was then but little more
than nine years old. They soon began
to whisper and play, wishing me to join
them. But I was wounded in spirit. I
could not join them. I had no disposi-
tion to do so, and wondered thatthey
could act thus in a place so sacred as
that seemed to me. I kept silence and
wished to remove from their company.
The neighbors having assembled, the
services commenced. It was a confer-
ence and prayer meeting, the pastor be-
ing present and taking an active part.
What was said by him, or by others, I
cannot tell now, nor havel been able to
tell from that day to this. I know that
all who took part in the services were
much engaged, and the effect on my
mind was to increase my seriousness. I
wept ; Icould no-t refrain from it. My
heart was pained. I was in distress.
My pious father, I think it was, sitting
near me, and seeing my trouble, took
me in his arms and abored to quiet me,
thinking me unwel . But no, I was not
sick. My body was not in pain. The
arrows of the Almighty were in my
heart, and under his rebuke I trembled.
I do not recollect as any one at the
meeting found out the true cause of my
sorrow; if so,I Was not aware of it
After I returned home, however, my
aged grandfather, a man that feared
God, ascertained it. He was overcome
362
HOLY SPIRIT, AGENCY OF, ETC.
19
~_-—--_p_-Q
by his feelings, as were indeed all in
the house. It was a place of tears,-—
parents and grandparents mingled theirs
with mine. But this did not relieve
me ; nor did I experience essential re-
lief before retiring for the night, though,
as Iwell remember, my father did so
far compose himself as to commend me
to God in fervent prayer.
I am the more inclined to think that
the state of mind described above Was
the effect of Divine influence, from the
fact that nothing had been said to me
personally on the subject of religion.
There was no revival among the peo-
ple, and so no chance for the operation
of sympathy 5 a powerful source of in-
fluence among children, as I have since
had occasion to observe. From that
day to this I have loved the church of
God, and hoped for salvation through
grace in Christ Jesus.
(Z) THE TWO DUELISTS.-—
B was a member of one of the
New England Colleges, from a southern
section of the country. He left his
class before the completion of the Col-
lege course, with habits of dissipation.
As was anticipated, on his return to the
south he plunged into vice without re-
straint. “My life,” to use his own
words, “ was a continual round of dissi-
pation, criminal in the extreme, and
ruinous in its effects both to my body
and soul.”
But the lowest depth of depravity had
not yet been reached. An extract from
a letter dated Dec. 1832, will give his
own account :-—“ I continued this course
of life, as above described, until a few
days before the protracted meeting com-
menced. And, sir, what think you
brought me to a pause? Doubtless you
will say, to compose my mind, and to
strive for a blessing. Oh! no, sir; it
was to prepare myself for mortal combat
with a fellow being! The time of our
meeting was fixed, and it happened to
be the day on which the people of God
were to assemble together. Within less
than half a mile from that solemn as-
sembly, We met, and exchanged shots
with pistols. To give you an idea of
my utter recklessness and depravity of
heart at that time—when I saw the
weapon of my antagonist directed to-

wards me, and by one who was esteemed
sure and deadly in his aim, the last
thought that I recollect was, that I should
now have an opportunity of gratifying
my curiosity respecting the nature of a
future state! His ball struck the earth
very near my feet-—-my own passed a
few inches from his breast. I returned
home to a mother and relations, halt
dead with grief and anxiety.”
Let us turn from this scene to one of
a different character. “The next day
found my antagonist and myself on the
same bench at an inquiry meeting, over-
whelmed with grief and tears for our
sins. The conflict was truly great.
For six days I seldom ate or slept. I
was at last so much reduced and en-
feebled I had scarcely strength to rise
from my knees. A consciousness of
pardon and acceptance with God was at
length obtained-—a new song has been
put into my mouth.”
(m) THE PERSECUTED SON.-—
After his conversion, Dr. Taft was one
day in conversation with a young man
of a respectable family, with whom he
was connected, and had occasion to re-
prove him for some improper expression
of which he had made use. The re-
proof went to his heart ; and thoughtless
as he had been, so deeply did he feel it,
that passing in an instant from gay to
grave, he begged the Doctor to pray
with him. The transition was so sud-
den and unexpected, that at first he
thought him in jest, and hesitated to
comply. In the end, the young man
was convinced of sin, and was brought
to God, and became a minister of the
Gospel.
(72 INFIDEL CONVERTED BY
ON * VVORD.-——ln a work entitled,
“Religion considered as the only basis
of happiness and true philosophy,” is
mentioned the following incident :—-
Others, after having doubted all their
lives, change in a moment their senti-
ments. Iknow a man of great sense
and very high character, whose conver-
sion was brought about by a single ex-
pression. He was yet in the age of the
passions; he had never possessed the
least principle of religion ; and he prided
himself upon being an atheist. One
day, in the presence of an, ecclesiastie
363
195. I96
HOLY SPIRIT GRIEVED.
equally distinguished by his eminent
virtues and talents, he affected to brave
all decorum, which ought at that instant
to have constrained him to hold his
tongue at least, and after having given
him a detail of his sentiments and opin-
ions, he ironically added, that according
to every appearance he should never be
converted. “Ah!” exclaimed the ec-
clesiastic, who till then had been si-
lent, “if you could then but hope!”
He said no more—-he got up, and went
out. But these words made a deep im-
pression upon the heart of the atheist.
He had no difi‘iculty to comprehend their
energetic meaning. A crowd of new
reflections presented themselves to his
mind—he longed to see and converse
with the man who had produced in him
so strange a revolution. The next day
he went and opened to him his heart,
asked his advice, hearkened to him with
attention, with eagerness, and from that
moment renounced forever the vain
sophisms of false philosophy. Such is
the power of the spirit of grace, it pro-
duces the most sudden and surprising
changes, and its effects confound the
incredulous observer, who professes to
be acquainted with the human heart.
(0) THE TWO SWISS SOL-
DIERS.-—Two Swiss soldiers, says the
Western Recorder, had been brought
up in ignorance of the great truths of the
gospel. One of them became danger-
ously sick; and as his life was appa-
rently near its close, began to see that
he was a great sinner, to tremble with
awful apprehensions about his future
state, and to cry for mercy. The other,
who was his cousin, had compassion
upon him, and finally recollecting him-
self, he said, not comprehending the im-
port of his own words——“I have heard
that there is one Jesus somewhere, who
saves sinners; you had better try to
find him.” It was enough. The sick
man recollected indistinctly that he had
heard such a name. He sought him;
he found him; and contrary to all ex-
pectation recovered from his sickness,
and became in his turn a successful
preacher to his distant relative. Both
went on their way rejoicing, ignorant
and simple-hearted, knowing scarcely
any thing about the subject of religion,

excepting as they were taught by the
Spirit.
(p) A SINGULAR REVIVAL.—-
In the township of R., in the western
par of New York, says a writer in the
Ch. VVatchman, without any special
or known cause, numbers of individuals
were suddenly aroused to anxious in-
quiry and trembling respecting their
souls. Some in difi"erent parts of the
town, without any knowledge of the af-
fections of others, were alarmed by the
consideration of their sins. Two men,
from different directions, came to a
clergyman in the morning, asking What
shall we do? About nine o’clock in
the same morning, one of the members
of the church called upon the same
clergyman, to go and visit several anx-
ious individuals in his neighborhood;
and before night it was ascertained, that
almost the whole population of a con-
siderable district, were solemnly, and
with weeping, asking the prayers and
instructions of the people of God.
Accompanied by the pastor, on that
and the subsequent day, we visited from~
house to house ; but wherever we went
the Spirit had preceded us. The whole
region was a Bochim. A solemn awe
pervaded our soul, and we could not but
feel that, “ God is in very deed in our
midst.”
Revivals, thus commencing, are, in-
deed, rare ; but where they do occur
they show very clearly the agency of
the Holy Spirit.
196. Holy Spirit Griwed.
(a) PRICE OF VAIN AMUSE.
MENT.-—Rev. Caleb Benson, a minis-
ter of my acquaintance, was invited by
a lady in Plymouth, Mass., to visit her
daughter who was lyin at the point of
death. As he entere the room and
commenced with her, he inquired why
she wished to see him. She said, she
had only consented to see him for the
sake of gratifying her friends, that it
would do her no good to be visited by
him or any other minister. He asked
why. She said, the time had been
when her mind was powerfully wrought
upon by God’s Spirit, and occupied with
364
HOLY SPIRIT GRIEVED.
serious thoughts about her eternal wel-
fare. She was convinced then, that- she
was a guilty, condemned sinner, that she
needed pardoning mercy. Her con-
victions, instead of being of a transient
character, had distressed her for months.
At length she was invited to be present
at a ball, or party of pleasure. She was
respectfully and urgently solicited by
her young and unconverted acquaint-
ances to attend. But conscience strong-
ly remonstratted—she felt convinced
that if she went to that scene of vain
amusement, it would be jeopardizing
the interests of her soul. Still Satan
urged her to accede to their requests.
While she was preparing to go, how-
ever, and while she was on her way to
the place where the gay circle met, she
felt that she was doing wickedly, and
that if she joined them, perhaps God
would leave her to herself, and her soul
be lost for ever. She came near the
house——-she hesitated-—doubting whether
to go in or not. But at last she yielded to
the suggestions of Satan and trembling-
ly crossed the threshold. But no sooner
had-she entered and begun to partici-
pate in the evening’s amusements, than
her convictions all left her. Since that
time she said, she had had no compunc-
tions of conscience whatever ;——power-
ful preaching, personal appeals, judg-
ments and mercies, and even the firm
belief that she must soon die, had not
affected her hard heart, or awakened
the least anxiety of mind. Her case
she said was hopeless. The minister
told her that Christ had saved a Ma-
nasseh, a Mary Magdalen, the thief up-
on the cross, the persecuting Saul, and
that he was able to save her. Yes, she
said, she knew all that; she knew he
was able to save all that came unto him
for mercy, but she had no desire to
come—that the Spirit had taken its
flight and left her to hardness of heart,
and blindness of mind. Mr. Benson
proposed prayer; but she told him his
prayers would do her no good. She con-
sented, however, to gratify her friends,
that he should pray; “ but in prayer,”
says Mr. Benson, “I had no unction,
no liberty. Heaven seemed closed
against all my petitions in her behalf.”

196
It was a heart-rending case. “You
will hear in a short time, Mr. Benson,”
said she, “that I am gone, but remem-
ber that my soul is lost.” He visited
her afterwards, but gained no satisfac-
tion ; the wretched girl died as she had
lived, without hope and without God.
(6) NO PLACE FOR REPENT.
ANCE.——“I have always believed,”
said a despairing sinner, just on the
brink of eternity, “that there was a
horrible thought in dating the possible
departure of the Spirit of God from the
soul. We shudder at the idea of de-
sertion, without reflecting on its particu-
lars. But it is tolerable while wrapt in
the mystery of ignorance——-ignorance of
its manner, its cause, and its time. And
yet, at this very hour, I can look back
to the turning point of my hopes. I can
remember my struggles under convic-
tion. I can recall the weariness of ef-
fort, the distaste, the compunctions
which preceded the first bold act of
worldliness; and which, in their depar-
ture, declared the issue decisive. In all
the confusion of my thoughts, there is
an unchanging spot in the survey of the
past. There it remains and no hand
can blot it out. No, you are not to im-
agine my judgment impaired in such a
review. I can deliberately retrace the
seasons departed. My return to the
world was not designated by an act
which the common rules of morality
would impeach. But it was by one,
which, it is plain, put an end to the
struggle. Andl could not renew the
conflict when I would willingly have
done so. Conviction did not leave me.
But it sat on my spirits like a lifeless
weight, that instead of giving them acti-
vity, crushed them down. My judg-
ment is as much convinced as ever.
But it avails 1ne nothing. The bright-
ness of a holy law, and that of the world
which I am approaching, only render
my condition more awful, as the mid-
night lightning does that of the wrecked
mariner, by showing him the impossi-
bility of escape. I can see, I can com-
prehend, but I can lay hold of nothing,
I can compel no play of that interest
which the near approach of the Holy
Spirit once created in my bosom.” We
365
196, 197
HONESTY.
will drop the curtain here, for in less
than an hour, the sufferer knew more
of eternity than you or I.
(0) AWFUL PRAYER ANSWER-
ED.—“ About twenty years ago,” said
a dying man, in G , N ew-York, “ I
was convinced of sin ; and so pungent
were my convictions, that my life seem-
ed insupportable. Instead of going, as
urged by the word and Spirit of God, to
him who gives rest to the weary and
heavy-laden, I retired to a grove—knelt
before God ; but instead of pleading for
his reconciled favor, prayed that he


would unburden my soul, by taking his
Holy Spirit from me. My prayer was
answered. For I had no sooner risen
upon my feet, than my sense of sin and
fear of hell were gone. From that day
to this, I have had no anxiety about my
eternal state. In that grove I prayed
away the Spirit of God, and He will
never return to offer me pardon and
eternal life through the blood of Christ.
I know that I shall soon be in hell. N 0-
thing can save me. My doom is sealed,
and yet, I am quite indifferent to the
future.”
HONESTY.
197. Examples of.
(a) COLLECTOR AND PEAS-
ANT.-M. Drouillard, collector of
taxes for the arrondissement of Condom,
France,) father of a numerous family,
iappening to arrive very late in the even-
mg, in the town of Auch, on his way to
the receiver-general, in order to convey
to that gentleman the sum of six thousand
francs in specie, found, on his arrival
there, that he had lost the bag containing
the money he thus intended to pay.
Though the unfortunate man caused
immediate search to be made, no traces
of the lost treasure could be discovered.
The next morning, he applied to a
friend, for the loan of a horse, in order
to be enabled to pursue his inquiries
with more effect ; but his friend’s horses
happening to be out, that gentleman went
himself to a neighbor, named Roussel,
a peasant in comparatively low circum-
stances, to borrow one, mentioning, at
the same time, for whom it was wanted,
as well as the heavy loss M. Drouillard
had sustained.
No sooner had Roussel heard what
had happened, than he exclaimed, “ Do
not give yourself any further trouble;
I know where the money is ;” and he
immediately delivered to him the iden-
tical bag containing the six thousand
francs.
It appears, that having found this bag,
rm his return from hi: daily occupa-

tions, he had placed it, though not
without some ditficulty on account
of its weight, upon his horse, and
carried it home, without ascertaining
how much it contained, or communi-
cating his good fortune to his family ;
that, the next morning, he had got up at
an early hour, and spent about an hour
in going to the market place and else-
where, in order to learn whether any
person had made any inquiries about it ‘
and that he was but just then returnec
home, without having been able to ascer
tain who had lost it, when he was thus
introduced to the delighted owner.
(Z2) TRIBUTE TO M. CORNET.
—In Bossuet’s funeral oration for M.
Cornet, he mentioned the following
fact :—One of his friends having a law-
suit, M. Cornet exerted his interest in
favor of his friend, with a judge who
was to try the cause; and it was de-
cided in his favor. Some time after-
wards, M. Cornet had doubts of the
justice of the decision; and being ap-
prehensive that it had been influenced
by his conversations with the judge, he
paid to the adversary the whole amount
of the sum in dispute.
(0) THE POOR HOTEL-KEEPER.
—The following interesting anecdote
occurs in a German work, entitled, “ A
Picture of St. Petersburgh.”
In a little town, five miles from St.
Petersburgh, lived apoor German wo-
man. A small cottage was her only
366
EXAMPLES OF.
197
9ossession, and the visits of a few ship-
masters, on their way to Petersburgh,
her only livelihood. Several Dutch
shipmasters having supped at her house
one evening, she found, when they were
gone, a sealed bag of money under the
.able. Some one of the company had
no doubt forgotten it, but they had sail-
ed over to Cronstadt, and the wind being
fair, there was no chance of their putting
back. The woman put the bag into
her cupboard, to keep it till it should be
called for. Full seven years, however,
elapsed, and no one claimed it; and
though often tempted by opportunity,
and oftener by want, to make use of the
contents, the poor woman’s good princi-
ples prevailed and it remained untouched.
One evening, some shipmasters again
stopped at her house for refreshment.
Three of them were English, and the
fourth a Dutchman. Conversing on
various matters, one of them asked the
Dutchman, if he had ever been in that
town before. “Indeed I have,” replied
he ; “ Iknow the place but too well : my
being here cost me once seven hun-
dred rublos.” “How so '2” “ Why,
in one of these wretched hovels, I once
left behind me a bag of rubles.” “ Was
the bag sealed 2” asked the woman, who
was sitting in a corner of the room, and
whose attention was aroused by the sub-
ject. “ Yes, yes, it was sealed, and
with this very seal here at my watch-
chain.” The woman knew the seal in-
stantly. “ Well, then,” said she, “by
that you may recover what you have
lost.” “ Recover it, mother! No, no;
I am rather toc old to expect that: the
world is not quite sd honest : besides, it
is full seven years since I lost the
money ;—-say no more about it, it al-
ways makes me melancholy.”
Meanwhile, the woman slipped out,
and presently returned with the bag.
“ See here,” said she ; “ honesty is not
so rare, perhaps, as you imagine ;” and
she threw the bag on the table.
((1) EPAMINONDAS NOT TO
BE BRIBED.-—When great presents
were sent to Epaminondas, the celebrat-
ed Theban general, he used to observe,
--“ If the thing you desire be good, Iwill
do it without any bribe, even because it is
good; if it be not honest, I will not do it

for all the goods in the world.” He was so
great a contemner of riches, that, when
he died, he left not enough to discharge
the expenses of his funeral.
(6) THE HONEST HORSE
TRADERS.—Two aged men near
Marshalton, Va., traded, or according
to Virginia parlance, swapped, horses
on this condition: that on that day
week, the one who thought he had the
best of the bargain, should pay to the
other two bushels of wheat. The day
came, and, strange as it may seem, they
met about half way between their re-
spective homes. “Where art thou
going ?” said one. “To thy house
with the wheat,” answered the other.
“And whither art thou riding '2”
“Truly,” replied the other, “I was
taking the wheat to thy house.” Each
pleased with the bargain, had thought
the wheat justly due to his neighbor
and was goin to pay it.
TH TWO FARMERS.—-
Two neighboring farmers had a dispute
respecting the right to a certain
meadow, and they could not compro-
mise the matter. An action atlaw was
accordingly brought to determine it.
On the day appointed for the trial, one
of the farmers, having dressed himself
in his Sunday clothes, called upon his
opponent to accompany him to the
Judge. Finding his neighbor at work
on his ground, he said to him, “ Is it
possible you can have forgotten that our
cause is to be decided to-day '2” “ No,”
said the other, “ I have not forgotten it ;
but I cannot well spare time to go. I
knew you would be there, and I am
sure you are an honest man, and will
say nothing but the truth. You will
state the case fairly, and justice will be
done.” And so it proved ; for the far-
mer who went to the Judge, stated his
neighbor’s claims so clearly, that the
cause was decided against himself;
and he returned to inform his opponent
that he had gained the property.
(g) THE MAGNANIMOUS NE.
PHEW.——A farmer in Bucks County,
Penn., died and left his farm, stock, dzc
to one of his sons: to the other, who
had offended him, he bequeathed £600.
Notwithstanding the utmost efforts of
the poorer brother, he found himself un-
367
197
HONESTY.
--.. .-

able to obtain the £600 from his more
wealthy brother, and with a family, he
was obliged to struggle through life
without getting any portion of the money
left him by the will of his father. At
length the wealthy brother died, and the
property fell to an only son. So soon
as he got possession of the property, he
ascertained the amount of the legacy
bequeathed by his grandfather to his un-
cle; he then added the interest which
had accrued all the time the legacy had
been withheld, and for the whole amount
he forthwith sent a check to his uncle.
(h) THE HONEST OSTIAK.-—
A Russian was travelling from T obolsk
to Beresow. On the read he stopped
one night at the hut of an Ostiak. In
the morning, on continuing his journey,
he discovered that he had lost his purse
containing about one hundred rubles.
The son of the Ostiak found the
purse, while out a hunting, but instead
of taking it up, went and told his father ;
who was equally unwilling to touch it,
and ordered his son to cover it with
some bushes.
A few months after this, the Russian
returned, and stopped at the same but,
but the Ostiak did not recognize him.
He related the loss he had met with.
The Ostiak listened very attentively,
and when he had finished, “You are
welcome,” said he; “ here is my son
who will show you the spot where it
lies; no hand has touched it but the
one which covered it over, that you
might recover what you have lost.”
(2') THE TURKISH POSTMAN.
——Keppel relates, in his “ Journey across
the Balcan,” that, in the winter of 1828,
a Turkish postman was sent to some
distant part with a considerable sum of
money in specie. The money, in such
cases, is carried in bags, which the
merchants call “groupes.” They are
given to the postman, and without re-
ceiving any written document as proof
of the receipt. This man, on returning
from his journey, was applied to by a
French house for fifteen thousand pias-
tres; a sum, at that time, equal to
fifteen thousand dollars. He made no
attempt to evade the demand, but imme-
diately said, “I have doubtless lost the
bag, and must therefore pay you as soon

as I can raise the money.” After ma
turely thinking of the loss, he returned
by the same read, quite confident that if
any Mohammedan should find the mo-
ney, it would be returned to him. He
had travelled nearly the whole distance,
when he arrived, in a very melancholy
mood, at a small, miserable coffee-house,
where he remembered to have stopped
a few moments on his way. He was
accosted at the door, by the café-jee,
who called out to him, “ Halloo, sheriff!
when you were last here, you left a bag,
which I suppose to contain gold. You
will find it just where you placed it.”
The postman entered, and discovered
the identical bag, evidently untouched,
although it must have been left exposed
to the grasp of the numerous chance
customers of a Turkish café.
(j) DISCHARGED FOR HON-
ESTY.-—A country gentleman, says
the N. E. Galaxy, placed a son with a
merchant in street. And for a
season all went on well. But at length
the young man sold a dress to a lady,
and as he was folding it up, he observed
a fiaw in the silk, and remarked,
“ Madam, I deem it my duty to tell you
there is a fracture in the silk.” This
spoiled the bargain. But the merchant
overheard the remark ; and had he re-
flected a moment, he might have reason-
ed thus with himself, “ Now I am safe,
while my affairs are committed to the
care of an honest clerk.” But he was
not pleased; so he wrote immediately
to the father to come and take him
home; for, said he, “ he will never make
a merchant.” I
The father, who had brought up his
son with the strictest care, was not a
little surprised and grieved, and hasten-
ed to the city to ascertain wherein his
son had been deficient. Said the anx-
ious father, And why will he not make
a merchant ’.l
More/iant.-—Because he has no tact.
Only a day or two since, he voluntarily
told a lady who was buying silk that the
goods were damaged, and so I lost the
bargain. Purchasers must look out for
themselves. If they cannot discover
flaws, it will be foolishness in me to tell
them of their existence.
Father.——And is this all the fault 2

368
HONESTY THE BEST POLICY.
198
.-
M'erc7zant.-—-Yes: he is very well in
other respects.
Father.-—Then I love my son better
than ever; and Ithank you for telling
me of the matter; I would not have
him in YOUR STORE another day
for the world.
198. Honesty the Best Policy.
(a) THE POOR BOY AND THE
WALLE'l‘.—A lad was proceeding to
an uncle’s to petition him for aid for a
sick sister and her children, when he
found a wallet containing fifty dollars.
The aid was refused, and the distressed
family were pinched for want. The
boy revealed the fortune to his mother;
but expressed a doubt about using any
portion of the money. His mother con-
firmed the doubt, and they resolved not
to use it. The pocket-book was adver-
tised, and the owner found. Bemg a
man of wealth, upon learning the histo-
ry of the family, he presented the fifty
dollars to the sick mother and took the
boy into his service, and he became one
of the most successful merchants in
Ohio. Honesty always brings its re-
ward--to the mind, if not to the pocket.
(7)) THE MASTER AND THE
APPRENTICE.--A gentleman, one
day conversing with a watchmaker upon
the dishonest practices of persons in his
way of business, was thus addressed by
him: “Sir, I served my apprenticeship
with a man who did not fear God, and
who consequently was not very scrupu-
lous in the charges which he made to
his customers. He used frequently to
call me a fool, and tell me I should die
in a Workhouse, when, in his absence, I
used to make such charges as appeared
to me fair and honest. In course of time
I set up in business for myself, and have
been so successful as never to have
wanted a shilling, whilst my master,
who used to reproach me for my hones-
ty, became so reduced in circumstances
as to apply to me for a couple of guin-
eas, and did at length himself actually
die in a workhouse.”
(0) CECIL AND THE ROBBERS.
»---On one occasion when the Rev. Rich-
ard Cecil had to travel on horseback
from London to Lewes to serve his
churches, instead of leaving town early

in the morning he was detained tili
noon, in consequence of which he did
not arrive on East Grinstead Common
till after dark. On this common he
met a man on horseback who appeared
to be intoxicated and ready to fall from
his horse at every step. Mr. C. called
to him and warned him of his danger,
which the man disregarding, with his
usual benevolence he rode up to him in
order to prevent his falling, when the
man immediately seized the reins of his
horse. Mr. C. perceiving he was in
bad hands endeavored to break away,
on which the man threatened to knock
him down if he repeated .he attempt.
Three other men on horseback immedi-
ately rode up, placing Mr. C. in the
midst of them. On perceiving his dan-
ger it struck him, “ Here is an occasion
for faith I” and that gracious direction
also occurred to him: “Call upon me
in the time of trouble; I will deliver
thee.”-—Psa. 50: 15. He secretly lifted
up his heart to God, entreating the de-
liverance which he alone could effect.
One of the men, who seemed to be the
captain of the gang, asked him who he
was and whither he was going. Mr. C.
here recurred to a principle to which his
mind was habituated, that “nothing
needs a. lie;” he therefore told them
very frankly his name and whither he
was going. The leader said: “Sir, I
know you, and have heard you preach
at Lewes. Let the gentleman’s horse
0. l/Ve wish you good-night.” Mr.
C. had about him sixteen pounds, which
he had been to town to receive, and
which at that time was to him a large
sum.
((1) THE SWEEP AND THE
VVATCH.—A poor chimney-sweeper’s
boy was employed at the house of a
lady of rank to clean the chimney of
her chamber. Finding himself on the
hearth of the lady’s dressing-room, and
perceiving no one there, he waited a few
moments to take a view of the beautiful
things in the apartment. A gold watch,
richly set with diamonds, particularly
caught his attention, and he could not
forbear taking it in his hand. Immedi-
ately the wish arose in his mind : “ Ah,
if thou hadst such a one!” After a
pause he said to himself: “ But ifl take
24
369
I98
HONESTY.
u -I M
it I shall be a thief. And yet,” con-I £50 would not more than repay him.
tinued he, “ no one sees me. N 0 one ’.l
Does not God see me, who is present
every where ? Should I then be able to
say my prayers to him after I had com-
mitted this theft ? Could I die in peace ?”
Overcome by these thoughts a cold shiv-
ering seized him. “ No I” said he, lay-
ing down the watch ; “I had much ra-
ther be poor and keep my good con-
science than rich and become a rogue.”
At these words he hastened back into
the chimney.
The countess, who was in the room
adjoining, having overheard his solilo-
quy, sent for him the next morning and
thus accosted him: “ My little friend,
why did you not take the watch yester-
day “.3” The boy fell on his knees,
speechless and astonished. “I heard
every thing you said,” continued her
ladyship ; “thank God for enabling you
to resist this temptation, and be watchful
over yourself for the future. From this
moment you shall be in my service ; I
will both maintain and clothe you——nay,
more: I will procure you good instruc-
tion, that shall ever guard you from the
danger of similar temptations.” The
boy burst into tears; he was anxious to
express his gratitude, but he could not.
The countess strictly kept her promise,
and had the pleasure to see him grow
up a ious and intelligent man.
(e) THE EARL AND THE FAR-
MER.--A farmer called on the Earl
F itzwilliam, (of Eng.) to represent
that his crop of wheat had been se-
riously injured in a field adjoining a
certain wood, where his lordship’s
hounds had, during the winter, fre-
quently met to hunt. He stated that
the young wheat had been so cut up
and destroyed, that, in some parts, he
could not hope for any produce.
“ Well, my friend,” said his lordship,
“I am aware that we have frequently
met in that field, and that we have done
considerable injury ; and if you can
procure an estimate of the loss you have
sustained, I will repay you.” The
farmer replied, that, anticipating his
1ordship’s consideration and kindness,
he had requested a friend to assist him in
estimating the damage, and they thought
hat as the crop seemed quite destroye l, .
The earl immediately gave him the
money. As the harvest, however, ap-
proached, the wheat grew, and in those
parts of the field which were most
trampled, the corn was strongest and
most luxuriant. The farmer went
again to his lordship, and being intro-
duced, said, “I am come, my lord, re-
specting the field of wheat adjoining
such a wood.” His lordship imme-
diately recollected the circumstance.
“ Well, my friend, did not I allow you
sufficient to remunerate you for your
loss ?” “Yes, my lord, I find that I
have sustained no loss at all, for where
the horses had most out up the land,
the crop is most promising, and I have,
therefore brought the £50 back again.”
“Ah,” exclaimed the venerable earl,
“ this is what I like ; this is as it should
be between man and man.” He then
entered into conversation with the
farmer, asking him some questions
about his famiiy--how many children
he had, etc. His lordship then went into
another room, and returning, presented
the farmer with a check for £100, say-
ing, “Take care of this, and when your
eldest son is of age, present it to him,
and tell him the occasion that produced
it.” We know not which to admire
most-the benevolence or the wisdom
displayed by this illustrious man; for
while doing a noble act of generosity,
he was handing down a lesson of in-
tregity to another generation
THE BEGGAR AND DR.
SMOLLETT.—-A beggar asking Dr.
Smollett for alms, he gave him through
mistake a guinea. The oor fellow
perceiving it, hobbled after him to re-
turn it; upon which Smollett returned
it to him, with another guinea as a re-
ward for his honesty, exelaiming at the
same time, “What a lodging has hon-
esty taken up with l”
(g) SAVED BY INTEGRITY.—
A plain farmer, Richard Jackson by
name, was apprehended, during the
revolutionary war, under such circum-
stances as proved beyond all doubt his
purpose of joining the king’s forces; an
intention which he was too honest to
deny. Accordingly, he was delivered
over to the high sheriff, and committed
370
HONORS, WORLDLY, VANITY OF.
199
.—n--I-_—-_ I-_-—_
to the county gaol. The prison was in
such a state that ht might have found
little difficulty in escaping; but he con-
sidered himself in the hands of authori-
ty, such as it was,‘ and the same con-
scientiousness—-(whether misguided or
not, we do not say)--which led him to
take up arms, made him equally ready
to endure the consequences. After ly-
ing there a few days, he applied to the
sherifl‘ for leave to go out and work by
the day, promising that he would return
regularly at night. His character for
simple integrity was so well known, that
permission was given without hesitation,
and for eight months Jackson went out
every day to labor, and as duly came
back to the prison at night. In the
month of May, the sheriff prepared to
conduct him to Springfield, where he
was to be tried for high treason. Jack-
son said this would be a needless trouble
and expense; he could save the sheriff
both, and go just as well by himself.
His word was once more taken, and he
set off alone, to present himself for trial
and certain condemnation. On the way,
he was overtaken in the woods by Mr.
Edwards, a member of the council of
Massachusetts, which at that time was
the supreme executive of the state.
This gentleman asked him whither he
was going. To Springfield, sir, was
his answer, to be tried for my life. To

this casual interview, Jackson owed his
escape. Having been found guilty and
condemned to death, application was
made to the council for mercy. The
evidence and the sentence were stated,
and the president put the question
whether the pardon should be granted.
It was opposed by the first speaker.
The case, he said, was perfectly clear;
the act was unquestionably high treason,
and the proof complete; and if mercy
was shown in this case, he saw no rea-
son why it should not be granted in ev-
ery other. Few governments have un-
derstood how just and politic it is to be
merciful. This hard-hearted opinion
accorded with the temper of the times,
and was acquiesced in by one member
after another, till it came Mr. Edwards’
turn to speak. Instead of delivering his
opinion, he simply related the whole
story of .Iackson’s singular demeanor,
and what had passed between them iii
the woods. For the honor of Massachu-
setts and of human nature, not a man was
found to weaken the natural effect of
Mr. Edwards’ statements on their minds.
The council began to hesitate, and when
a member ventured to say that such a
man certainly ought not to be sent to
the gallows, a natural feeling of hu-
manity and justice prevailed, and a par-
don was immediately made out.
199. HONORS, WORLDLY, VANITY OF.
(a) THE SUPERSEDED AMBAS-
SADOR.--In 1664, Sir Richard Fan-
shawe was ambassador from Charles II.
to Madrid. This gentleman had been
remarkable for his fidelity to the cause
of Charles I, in whose service he had
not only endured great privations, but
had lost the whole of his family proper-
ty. The fealty he had shown to the
father was shown to the son, who, in re-
warding him with an embassy to Spain,
by that very elevation only made his
fall the greater, for his disgrace in being
superseded by another so affected him,
that he died of a broken heart; such is
the gratitude of princes! Lady Fan-
rrhawe’s account of their arrival at

Cadiz, confirms the truth of the fore-
going observations. After mentioning
that when they landed they were wel-
comed by volleys of guns, received by
a very large number of people, and met
by the governor and his lady, she adds,
“ When we came to the house where
we were to lodge, we were nobly treated,
and the governor’s wife did me the
honor to sup with me. VVe had a
guard who constantly waited on us, and
sentries at the gate below, and at the
stairs-head above. We were visited
by all the persons of quality in that
town; our house was richly furnished
both my husband’s quarter and mine.
The richness of the gilt and silver plate
37]
199
HONORS, VVORLDLY, VANITY OF.
which we had in great abundance, was
fit only for the entertainment of so great
a prince as his majesty our master, in
the representation of whose person my
husband received this great entertain-
ment ; yet, I assure you, notwithstand-
ing this temptation, that your father and
myself both wished ourselves in a re-
tired country life in England, as more
agreeable to our inclinations.” But
“ as never any ambassador’s family
went into Spain more gloriously, so
never went out any so sad 5” for the de-
parture of this lady was little else than
expulsion from a situation where every
earthly honor had been heaped upon
her to satiety, and her company was the
dead body of her beloved lord! She
found, however, strength and consola-
tion where only they are to be found, in
God.
(Z2) EXPERIENCE OF VVOTTON.
-—Sir Henry \Votton, in the reign of
Queen Elizabeth, who had great honors
conferred on him, on account of his near
relation to the Queen’s great favorite,
Robert, Earl of Essex, was very inti-
mate with the Duke of Tuscany, and
with James, then King of Scotland,
(and afterwards of England,) and had
been sent on several embassies to Hol-
land, Germany, and Venice: after all,
he desired to retire with this motto,
“ That he had learned at length, that
the soul grew wiser by retirement,” and
consequently, that a man was more
happy in a private situation, than it was
possible for him to be with those worldly
honors which were accompanied with so
many troubles. In short, the utmost of his
aim in this life, for the future, was to be
Provost of Eton, that there he rr..'ght en-
joy his beloved study and devotion.
(0) THE PRIME MINISTER’S
MISERY.—-On a court day in Decem-
ber, 1795, Sir John Sinclair happened
to meet Mr. Secretary Dundas at St.
James’s, who pressed him to name a
day for visiting him at VVimbledon.
The day fixed upon chanced to be the
last of the year. The party was nu-
merous, and included Mr. Pitt. Sir
John remained all night 5 and next
morning, according to Scottish custom,
resolved to pay his host an early visit in
_._‘
‘
l
his own apartment. He found the sec-
retary in the library, reading a long pa-
per on the importance of conquering
the Cape, as an additional security to
our Indian possessions. His guest
shook him by the hand, adding the usual
congratulation, “I come, my friend, to
wish you a good new year, and many
happy returns of the season.” The
secretary, after a short pause, replied
with some emotion, “I hope this year
will be happier than the last, for I can
scarcely recollect having spent one
happy day in the whole of it.” This
confession, coming from an individual
whose whole life hitherto had been a
series of triumphs, and who appeared
to stand secure upon the summit of po-
litical ambition, was often dwelt upon
by Sir John as exemplifying the vanity
of human wishes.
(cl) TI-IE SERVANT’S DOCTOR-
ATE.—When the University of St.
Andrew’s, Scotland, sold her honors, a
certain minister, who deemed that his
ministration would be more acceptable,
if he possessed what the Germans call
the doctor-hat, put £15 in his purse and
went to St. Andrew’s to “purchase for
himself a good degree.” His man-
servant accompanied him, and was
present when his master was formally
admitted to the long-desired honor. On
his return “the doctor ” sent for his
servant, and addressed him as follows:
“Noo Saunders, ye’ll aye be sure to
ca’ me the doctor ; and gin ony body
spiers at you about me, ye’ll be aye
sure to say the doctor’s in his study, or
the doctor’s engaged, or the doctor will
see you in a crack.” “That a’ de-
pends,” was the reply, “ whether ye
ca’ me the doctor, too I” (The Rev.
Dr. started.) " Ay, it’s just so,” con-
tinued the other; “for when I foona
that it cost so little, I e’en got a diploma
myself, sa ye’ll be just good enough to
say, ‘doctor, put on some coals,’ or,
‘ doctor, bring the whiskey and hot
water,’ and gin ony body spiers at ye
about me, ye’ll be aye sure to say, ‘ the
doctor’s in the stable,’ or, ‘the doctor’s
in the pantry,’ or, ‘ the doctor’s digging
potatoes,’ as the case may be.’ ’
372
HOPE, POWER OF.
29%
.--I —--*_-_

200. HOPE,
(a) THE SWEEP AND THE
CLERGYMAN.——“ Passing down Hud-
son-street in N ew-York one day,” says
a clergyman, “ a sooty, noisy chimney-
sweep crossed my path. I had often
noticed this class of persons before ; and
as I heard their hideous cries and
marked their filthy dress and the sooty
implements of their calling, I had thought
their lot among the most miserable of
our race. Pity and curiosity prompted
me, as this chimney-sweep was now
passing, to address a few kind words.
After a salutation Isaid: ‘My friend,
this must be a hard life that you live 2’
‘ O, no,’ said he, and his eye kindled as
he spoke; ‘it’s not a hard life; it will
soon be over, and then we shall have
rest.’ I was silent for a moment ; but
recovering from my surprise I replied:
‘Yes, indeed, we shall have rest in hea-
ven if we love and serve the Savior on
earth. Do you love him?’ ‘I do not
wish to presume,’ said he, ‘ but I trustl
do love the Savior!’ VVhat was my
gratification to learn that he was a pro-
fessor of religion and had been for years
a member of a church of the same de-
nomination with myself. And whenl
told him who I was—a minister of
Christ and one of his own brethren—he
was full of joy. VVith a few words of
advice and congratulation I passed on.
‘O, happy man,’ thought I. ‘ Happier
in hope of heaven than the kings of the
earth without it. Is not such a hope
like an anchor to the soul '2’ ”
(Z2) BISHOP BEVERIDGE AND
HIS FRIENDS.--When the pious Bish-
op Beveridge was on his death-bed he
did not know any of his friends or con-
nexions. A minister with whom he had
been well acouainted visited him, and
when conducteo into his room he said :
“ Bishop Beveridge, do you know me ?”
“ ‘Who are you?” said the bishop. Be-
ing told who the minister was, he said
that he did not know him. Another
friend came who had been equally well
known, and accosted him in a similar
POWER OF.
manner: “Do you know me, Bishop
Beveridge ?” “ Who are you?” said
he. Being told it was one of his inti-
mate friends, he said he did not know
him. His wife then came to his bed-
side and asked him if he knew her.
“ Who are you '2” said he. Being told
she was his wife, he said he did not
know her. “ \Vell,” said one of them,
“Bishop Beveridge, do you ‘mow the
Lord Jesus Christ '2” “Jesus Christ I”
said he, reviving as if the name had
produced upon him the influence of a
charm; “ Oh! yes, I have known Him
these forty years; precious Savior, he
is my only hope!”
(0) REMEMBERING JESUS
CHRIST.—-A good old minister who
died in this country in 1807, at nearly
ninety years of age, had lost his recol-
lection and been long incapable of en-
gaging in public services. Towards
the last days of his life he was removed
to the house of a beloved son, where he
was attended to with the most filial
affection. On the evenmg before hi.
death a neighboring minister visited him,
but he did not know him. Being told
who he was he answered: “N 0, I do
not remember any such person.” His
beloved son was introduced to him ; but
no, he did not know him. “ I do not
remember that I have a son,” said the
good old man. In short, his memory
was so impaired that he knew none of
his family or friends about him. At
last he was asked: “Do you not re-
member the Lord Jesus Christ ?” On
this his eyes brightened; and attempt-
ing to lift his hands in the hour of death
he exclaimed: “ Oh! yes; I do, I do!
I remember the Lord Jesus Christ! He
is my Lord and my God, by whom I
hope to be saved !” May we not be as-
sured that the gracious Redeemer of sin-
ners will not forsake those who thus re-
gard him with a love that even the de-
cay of nature cannot destroy? Blessed
are they that put their trust in him!
Reader, hast thou done so? If not,

373
201
HOSPITALITY.
what will be thy state when thou com-
est to die '2
(ti) VVITNESS OF THE SPIRIT.
---The celebrated Philip de Morney,
prime minister to Henry the IVth of
France, one of the greatest statesmen,
and the most exemplary Christian of
his age, being asked a little before his
death, if he still retained the same as-
sured hope of future bliss, which he had
so comfortably enjoyed during his ill-
ness, he made this memorable reply : “ I
am,” said he, “ as confident of it, from
the incontestable evidence of the Spirit
of God, as ever I was of any mathema-
deal truth from all the demonstrations
of Euclid.”
(6) THE AFFLICTED SUGAR-
BOlLER.—-A negro named Robert, a
sugar-boiler, was dreadfully afflicted for
several years; his affliction arose, as
was supposed, from a drop of boiling
sugar falling on his arm when he was
at work. The place broke out, and the
sore spread, so that his fingers fell off.
The disorder ascended into his head,
and his eyes fell out, as also pieces of

.—_—_Q 5

his skull. His feet were likewise af-
fected, and came off. Yet he bore all
this with remarkable patience, and, at
times, rejoiced in the hope of being re-
ceived to that place where there is no
death, neither sorrow nor crying. The
last time I visited him, said the minister,
I could not bear to look upon him, but
only talked to and prayed with him at
his chamber door. When I asked how
he was, he said he was just waiting the
Lord’s time, when he should please to
call for him. “ Massa,” said he, “two
hands gone; two eyes gone ; 'tW( feet
gone; no more dis carcase here. Oh,
massa! de pain sometimes too strong
for me; I am obliged to cry out, and
pray to de Lord for his assistance.”
When he came to close his life, he ex-
horted all about him to be sure to live
to God; and especially his wife, who
had remained with him all the time
of his affliction; a very rare circum-
stance then with negroes. But she con-
tinued faithful ; and he died happy, ex-
horting her to live to God.
201. HOSPITALITY.
(a) PARK AND THE NEGRESS.
---When the celebrated Mungo Park
was in Africa, he was directed by one
of the native kings to a village to pass
the night. He went, but as the order
was not accompanied with any provi-
sion for his reception, he found every
door shut. Turning his horse loose to
graze, he was preparing, as a security
from wild beasts, to climb a tree, and
sleep among the branches, where a
beautiful and affecting incident occur-
red, which gives a most pleasing view
of the negro female character. An old
r oman, returning from the labors of the
field, cast on him a look of compassion,
and d.esired him to follow her. She led
him to an apartment in her hut, procur-
ed a fine fish, which she broiled for his
supper, and spread a mat for him to
sleep upon. She then desired her
maidens, who had been gazing in fixed lI)I’68.Cll to a congregation at

to ply through a great part of the nigh‘
They cheered their labors with a song
which must have been composed extem
pore, as Mr. Park, with deep emotion,
discovered that he himself was the sub-
ject of it. It said, in a strain of affect-
ing simplicity :——“ The winds roared,
and the rains fell. The poor white man ,
faint and weary, came and sat under
our tree. He has no mother to bring
him milk, no wife to grind his corn.”
Chorus. “Let us pity the White man,
no mother has he,” etc. Our traveller
was much affected, and next morning
could not depart, without requesting his
landlady’s acceptance of the only gift
he had left, two out of the four brass
buttons that still remained on his waist.
coat.
(b) GETTING AN INVITATION.
—Rev. Mr. had travelled far t;
A .


astonishment on the white man, to re- tter the sermon, he waited very patient-
sume their tasks, which they continued
,ly, expecting some one of the brethren
374
HOSPITALITY.
201
“P

--__'_--—_-
to invite him home to dinner. In this
he was disappointed. One and another
departed, until the house was almost as
empty as the minister’s stomach. Sum-
moning resolution, however, he walked
up to an elderly-looking gentleman, and
gravely said—-
“ Will you go home to dinner with
me to-day, brother?” “ Where do you
live 2”
“About twenty miles from this, sir.”
“ N o,’ ’ said the man, coloring, “ but you
must go with me.” “Thank you——I
will cheerfully.”
After that time, the minister was no
more troubled about his dinner.”
(0) HOSPITALITY AMONG
TURKS.-—Mr. Arundel, in his Dis-
coveries in Asia Minor, says: We dis-
mounted at the Oda, a lodging house
for travellers, in the village of Coose-
lare, or Cuselare. It was certainly not
a palace, for we shared it with our
horses, and there were holes, called
windows, without glass or shutters ; but
the hospitality of our hosts more than
compensated for every thing else.
\Ve had trakana soup, pilau, cheese,
and petmes, and surprised were we to
see our table-cloth, or table-skin, soon
after laid, the pancake bread placed all
around, and the smoking viands in the
midst. It was the more surprising,
since we were unexpected guests ; and,
as the village seemed wretchedly poor,
We ventured to ask an explanation ; and
we learned that our fare was the con-
tribution of many families : the trakana
soup was supplied by one, the pilau by
a second, the petmes by a third, the
bread by a fourth ; but all were emulous
to feed the famished strangers with as
little less of time as possible : and these
Were Turks!
(d) THE CZAR AND THE PEA-
SANT.——The Czar Ivan, who reigned
over Russia about the middle of the six-
teenth century, frequently went out dis-
guised, in order to discover the opinion
Which the people entertained of his ad-
ministration. One day, in a solitary
walk near Moscow, he entered a small
village, and pretending to be overcome
by fatigue, implored relief from several
of the inhabitants. His dress was rag-
ged, his appearance mean; and what

ought to have excited the compassion of
the villagers and ensured his reception
was productive of refusal. Full of in-
dignation at such inhuman treatment,
he was just going to leave the place,
when be perceived another habitation,
to which he had not yet applied for as-
sistance. It was the poorest cottage in
the village. The emperor hastened to
this, and, knocking at the door, a peasant
opened it, and asked him what he wanted.
“I am almost dying with fatigue and
hunger,” answered the Czar; “ can you
give me a lodging for one night ?"
“ Alas!” said the peasant, taking him
by the hand, “ you will have but poor
fare ; you are come at an unlucky time ;
my wife is in labor ; her cries will no
let you sleep; but come in, come in;
you will at least be sheltered from the
cold, and such as we have you shah be
welcome to.”
The peasant then made the Czar enter
a little room full ofchildren; in a cradle
were two infants sleeping soundly I A
girl three years old was sleeping on a
rug near the cradle ; while her two sis-
ters, the one five years old, the other
almost seven, were on their knees, cry-
ing, and praying to God for their mother,
who was in a room adjoining, and whose
piteous plaints and groans were distinct-
ly heard. “ Stay here,” said the peasant
to the emperor; “I will go and get
something for your supper.”
He went out and soon returned with
some black bread, egos, and honey.
“You see all I can give you,” said the
peasant ; “partake of it with my chil-
dren. I must go and assist my wife.”
“Your hospitality,” said the Czar,
“ must bring down blessings upon your
house ; I am sure God will reward your
goodness.” “ Pray to God, my good
friend,” replied the peasant, “pray to
God Almighty that she may have a safe
delivery: that is all I wish for.” “ And
is that all you wish to make you happy ?”
“ Happy! judge for yourself; I have five
fine children; a dear wife that loves
me; a father and mother both in good
health; and my labor is suflicient to
maintain them all.” “Do your father
and mother live with you ?” “Cer-
tainly ; they are in the next room with
my wife.” “ But your cottage here is
375
201
HOSPITALITY.
‘
__.--1 _—--_

so very sma.l !” “ It is large enough ; it
can hold us all.”
The good peasant then went to his
wife, who in about an hour after was
happily delivered. Her husband, in a
transport of joy, brought the child to the
Czar ; “ Look,” said he, “ look; this is
the sixth she has brought me I May
God preserve him as he has done my
others!” The Czar, sensibly affected
at this scene, took the infant in his arms :
“ I know,” said he, “from the physiog-
nomy of this child, that he will be quite
fortunate. He will arrive, I am certain,
at preferment.” The peasant smiled at
the prediction; and at that instant the
two eldest girls came to kiss their new-
born brother, and their grandmother
came also to take him back. The little
ones followed her; and the peasant,
laying himself down upon his bed of
straw, invited the stranger to do the
same.
In a moment the peasant was in a
sound and peaceful sleep ; but the Czar,
sitting up, looked around, and contem-
plated every thing with an eye of tender-
ness and emotion ; the sleeping children
and their sleeping father. An undisturb-
ed silence reignedin the cottage. “ VVhat
a happy chasm I I/Vhat delightful tran-
quillity!” said the emperor; “avarice
and ambition, suspicion and remorse,
never enter here. How sweet is the
sleep of innocence I” In such reflections
and on such a bed did the mighty em-
peror of the Russias spend the night I
The peasant awoke at the break of day,
and his guest, after taking leave of him,
said, “ I must return to Moscow, my
friend; I am acquainted there with a
very benevolent man, to whom I shall
take care to mention your kind treat-
ment of me. I can prevail upon him to
stand godfather to your child. Promise
me, therefore, that you will wait for me,
that I may be present at the christening ;
I will be back in three hours at the
farthest.” The peasant did not think
much of this mighty promise; but in
the good nature of his heart, he consent-
ed, however, to the stranger’s request.
The Czar immediately took his leave :
the three hours were soon gone, and no-
body appeared. The peasant, therefore,
followed by his family, was preparing to

carry his child to church; but as he
was leaving his cottage, he heard on a
sudden the trampling of horses and the
rattling of many coaches. He knew the
imperial guards, and instantly called his
family to come and see the emperor go
by. They all ran out in a hurry and
stood before their door. The horses,
men and carriages soon formed a cir-
cular line, and at last the state coach of
the Czar stopped opposite the neasant’s
door.
The guards kept back the ‘rowd,
which the hopes of seeing their sovereign
had collected together. The coach door
was opened, the Czar alighted, and, ad-
vancing to his host, thus addressed him:
“I promised you a godfather; I am
come to fulfil my promise: give me your
child, and follow me to church.” The
peasant stood like a statue ; now looking
at the emperor with the mingled emo-
tions of astonishment and joy; now ob-
serving his magnificent robes and the
costly jewels with which they were
adorned, and now turning to a crowd of
nobles that surrounded him. In this pro-
fusion of pomp he could not discover
the poor stranger who lay all night with
him upon straw.
The emperor for some moments si-
lently enjoyed his perplexity, and then
addressed him thus: “Yesterday you
performed the duties of humanity ; to-
day I am come to discharge the most
delightful duty of a sovereign, that of re-
compensing virtue. I shall not remove
you from a situation to which you do so
much honor, and the innocence and
tranquillity of which I envy ; but [will
bestow upon you such things as may be
useful to you. You shall have numerous
flocks, rich pastures, and a house that
will enable you to exercise the duties of
hospitality with pleasure. Your new-
born child shall become my ward ; for
you may remember,” continued the
emperor, smiling, “ thatl prophesied he
would be fortunate.”
The good peasant could not speak;
but, with tears of sensibility in his eyes,
he ran instantly to fetch the child,
brought him to the emperor, and laid
him respectfully at his feet. This ex-
cellent sovereign was quite affected ; he
took the child in his arms, and carried
376
HUMANITY. 2091

fully observed his engagement, caused
the boy to be educated in his palace,
provided amply for his farther settle-
ment in life, and continued ever after
to heap favors upon the virtuous pea-
sant and his family.
him himself to church; and, after the
ceremony was over, unwilling to de-
prive him of his mother’s milk, he took
him back to the cottage, and ordered
the. he should be sent to him as soon
as he could be weaned. The Czar faith-
HUMANITY.
Q02. Humanity Exempliiied.
(a) caesxa AT PHARSALIA.-—
Julius Caesar was not more eminent for
his valor in overcoming his enemies,
than for his humane efforts in reconcil-
ing and attaching them to his do1ninion.
In the battle of Pharsalia he rode to and
fro, calling vehemently out, “ Spare,
spare the citizens !” Nor were any
killed but such as obstinately refused to
accept life. After the battle, he gave
every man on his own side leave to save
any of the opposite from the list of pro-
scription ; and at no long time after he
issued an edict, permitting all who1n he
had not yet pardoned, to return in peace
to Italy, to enjoy their estates and hen-
ors. It was a common saying of Caesar
that no music was so charming to his
ears, as the requests of his friends, and
the supplications of those in want of his
assistance.
(b) A GOVERNOR’S HUMANI-
TY.—When Catharine of Medicis had
persuaded Charles IX to massacre all
the Protestants in France, orders were
sent to the governors of the different
provinces to put the Huguenots to death
in their respective districts. One Cath-
olic governor, whose memory will ever
be dear to humanity, had the courage
to disobey the cruel mandate. “ Sire,”
said he, in a letter to his sovereign, “ I
have too much respect for your majesty
not to persuade myself that the order I
have ~received must be forged ; but if,
which God forbid, it should be really
the order of your majesty,I have too
much respect for the personal character
of my sovereign to obey it.”
(0) LOUIS XIV AND THE EN-
GLISH AMBASSADOR.-—-After the
revocation of the famous edict of N antz,

when the Protestants were oersecuted
in every part of France, an English
Ambassador defnanded of Louis XIV
the liberty of all those who were sent to
the galleys on account of their religion.
“ And what,” answered the royal bigot,
“ would the king of England say, were
I to require the release of all his prison-
ers in N ewgate '2” “Sir,” returned
the ambassador, “the king my master
would immediately comply with your
requisition, if your majesty interposed
for them, not as malefactors, but as your
brat/zren. ’ ’
(d) MEASURING FEELING.--A
respectable merchant of London, having
been embarrassed in his circumstances, ’
and his misfortunes having been one day
the subject of conversation in the Royal
Exchange, several persons expressed
great sorrow ; when a foreigner who
was present, said, “ I feel five hundred
pounds for him, what do you feel .9”
(e) HENRY IV AND THE
SIEGE.-—\Vhen Henry IV of France
was advised to attempt taking Paris by
an assault, before the King of Spain’s
troops arrived to succor the leaguers,
he absolutely protested against the
measure, on the principle of humanity.
“ I will not,” said he, “ expose the capi-
tal to the miseries and horrors which
must follow such an event. I am the
father of my people, and will follow the
example of the true mother who pre-
sented herself before Solomon. I had
much rather not have Paris, than obtain
it at the expense of humanity, and by
the blood and death of so many innocent
persons.”
Henry reduced the city to obedience
without the loss of blood, except two or
three burgesses who were killed. “ If
it was in my power,” said this humane
3'77
£02, 203
HUMAN ITY.

monarch, “I would give fifty thousand
crowns to redeem those citizens, to have
the satisfaction of informing posterity
that I had subdued Paris without spill-
ing a dro of blood.”
(f) THE CHILD’S RESCUE.-—An
English gentleman relates the following
affecting fact:
I was once going in my gig up the
hill in the village of F rankford, near
Philadelphia, when a little girl, about
two years old, who had travelled away
from a small house, was lying basking
in the sun in the middle of the read.
About two hundred yards beforel got to
the child, the teams, five big horses in
each, of three wagons, the drivers of
which had stopped to drink at a tavern
at the brow of the hill, started off, and
came nearly abreast, galloping down
the road. I got my gig off the road as
speedily as I could, but expected to see
the poor child crushed to pieces. A
young man, a journeyman carpenter,
who was shingling the shed by the road-
side, seeing the child, and aware of the
danger, though a stranger to the pa-
rents, jumped from the top of the shed,
ran into the road, and snatched up the
child when scarcely an inch before the
hoof of the leading horse. The horse’s
leg knocked him down, but he, catching
the child by its clothes, flung it out of
the way of the other horses, and saved
himself by rolling back with surprising
agility. The mother of the child, who
had apparently been washing, seeing
teams coming, and knowing the situa-
tion of the child, rushed out, and catch-
ing it up just as the carpenter had flung
it back, hugged it in her arms, and ut-
tered a shriek such as Inever heard be-
fore. Then she dropped down as if en-
tirely dead. By the application of the
usual means, she was restored, howev-
er, in a little while; and I, being about
to depart, asked the carpenter if he was
a married man, and whether he was a
relation of the parents of the chill. He
said he was neither. “ Well then,”
said I, “you merit the gratitude of eve-
ry father and mother in the world ; and
I will show you mine by giving you
what Ihave,” pullmg out the nine or
ten dollars which I had in my pocket.
“ No, I thank you, sir,” said he ; “ I have


only done what it was my duty to
do.”
(g) LESSON TO CON QUERORS
-—VVnen Edward the Confessor had en-
tered England from Normandy to
recover the kingdom, and was ready to
give the Danes battle, one of his cap-
tains assured him of victory, adding,
“ VV e will not leave one Dane alive.”
To which Edward replied, “ God forbid
that the kingdom should be recovered
for me, who am but one man, by the
death of thousands. No: I will rather
live a private life, unstained by the blood
of my fellow-men, than be a king by
such a sacrifice.” Upon which he
broke up his camp, and agair retired to
Normandy, until he was restored to his
throne without blood.
(h) KNOX’S REPLY TO THE
PRISONERS.——The prisoners in St.
Michael, once consulted John Knox, as
to the lawfulness of attempting to
escape, by breaking their prison; which
was opposed by some of their number,
lest their escape should subject their
brethren who remained in confinement
to a more severe treatment. He re-
turned for answer, that such fears were
not a sufiicient reason for relinquishing
the design, and that they might with a.
safe conscience eflect their escape, pro-
vided it could be done “ without the
blood of any shed or spilt. To the
shedding of any man’s blood for their
freedom he would never consent.”
ANTHONY’S OPINION OF
REVENGE.-—Anthony behaved with
such lenity towards those who had been
engaged for Cassius, that he wrote to
the Senate, requesting them to spare the
shedding of blood ; and requesting this
honor to be allowed to his reign, that
even underthe misfortunes of a rebellion,
none had lost their lives, except in the
first heat of the tumult. “I wish,”
saie he, “that I could even recall to
life many of those who have been
killed ; for revenge in a prince hardly
ever pleases, since even when just, it is
considered as severe.”
203. Humanity Rewarded.
(a) HUMANE DRIVER RE.
WARDED.-—A poor Macedoniar sil
378
HUMAN1 1X .
flier Was one day leading before Alex-
andera mule laden with gold for the
King’s use 5 the beast being so tired that
he was not able either to go or sustain
the load, the mule-driver took it off, and
carried it himself with great difficulty a
considerable way. Alexander seeing
him just sinking under the burthen, and
about to throw it on the ground, cried
out, “Friend, do not be weary yet ; try
and carry it quite through to thy tent,
for it is all thy own.”
(Z2) AGRIPPA AND THAUMAS-
TUS.—-When Agrippa was in a private
station, he was accused, by one of his
servants, of having spoken injuriously
of Tiberius, and was condemned by the
emperor to be exposed in chains before
the palace gate. The weather was
very hot, and Agrippa became exces-
sively thirsty. Seeing Thaumastus, a
servant of Caligula, pass by with a
pitcher of water, he called to him, and
entreated leave to drink. The servant
presented the pitcher with much cour-
tesy; and Agrippa having allayed his
thirst, said to him, “Assure thyself,
Thaumastus, that if I get out of this
captivity, I will one day pay thee well
for this draught of water.” Tiberius
dying, his successor Caligula, soon after
not only set Agrippa at liberty, but
made him king of J udea. In this high
situation Agrippa was not unmindful of
the glass of water given to him when a
captive. He immediately sent for
Thaumastus, and made him comptroller
of his household.
(0) TRIUMPH OF METELLUS.-—
When Nertobrigia was invested by Q.
Caecilius Metellus, the Roman pro-
consul, Rhetogenes, a chief lord of the
place, came out and surret dered him-
self to the Romans. The inhabitants,
enraged at his desertion, placed his wife
and children, whom he had left behind,
in the breach which the legionaries
were to mount. The Roman general
hearing of this, and finding that he
could not attack the city without
sacrificing them, abandoned a certain
conquest, and raised the siege. No
sooner was this act of humanity known
through Tarraconian Spain, than the in-
habitants of the revolted cities strove
who should first submit to him; and

203
thus was a whole country recovered by
one humane act.
((1) MERCY BETTER THAN
SACRIFICE:-When the Romans had
ravaged the province of Azazene, and
seven thousand Persians were brought
prisoners to Amida, where they sutfered
extreme want, Acases, Bishop of Amida,
assembled his clergy, and represented
to them the misery of these unhappy
prisoners. He observed that as God
had said, “I love mercy better than
sacrifice,” he would certainly be better
pleased with the relief of his suffering
creatures, than with being served with
gold and silver in the churches. The
clergy were of the same opinion. The
consecrated vessels were sold 5 and with
the proceeds, the seven thousand Per-
sians were not only maintained during
the war, but sent home at its conclusion
with money in their pockets. Varenes,
the Persian monarch, was so charmed
with this humane action, that he invited
the bishop to his capital, where he re-
ceived him with the utmost reverence,
and for his sake confer-red many favors
on the Christians.
(6) CLEMENCY OF ALPHON-
SUS.—The city of Cajeta having re-
belled against Alphonsus, was invested
by that monarch with a powerful army.
Being sorely distressed for want of pro-
visions, the citizens put forth all their
old men, women and children, and shut
the gates upon them. The king’s mm-
isters advised his majesty not to permit
them to pass, but to force them back
into the city ; by which means he would
speedily become master of it. Alphon-
sus, however, had too humane a disposi-
tion to hearken to counsel, the policy of
which rested on driving a helpless mul-
titude into the jaws of famine. He
suffered them to pass unmolested ; and
when afterwards reproached with the
delay which this produced in the siege
he feelingly said, “ I had rather be the
preserver of one innocent person, than
be the master of a hundred Cajetas.”
Alphonsus was not without the re-
ward which such noble clemency merit-
ed. The citizens were so aifected by
it, that, repenting of their disloyalty,
they soon afterwards yielded up the city
to him of their own accord.
379
203,204
I. UMILITY.

THE ARCI-IDUKE AND HIS
VVOUNDED SOLDIERS. — When
the Archduke Charles was on his way
from Bohemia, to take the command of
his army, as he drew near the scene of
action, he met a number of wounded men
abandoned by their comrades on the
road, for want of horses to draw the
carriages in their retreat. The prince
immediately ordered the horses to be
taken from several pieces of cannon
that were already retreating, saying
that these brave men were better worth
saving than a few cannon. Vi/hen Gen-
eral Moreau, into whose hands the can-
non of course fell, heard of this benev-
olent trait, he ordered them to be
restored to the Austrian army, observing
that he would take no cannon that were
abandoned from such humane motives.
(g) HAPPY EFFECTS OF HU-
MANITY.——The following facts of a
young chief of the Pawnee nation, and
son of Old Knife, one of the Indians
who visited the city of Washington, in
America, a few years ago, from the foot
of the Rocky Mountains, are highly
creditable to his courage, his generosity,
and his benevolence. This young war-
rior, when these events occurred, was
about twenty-five years old. At the
age of twenty-one, his heroic deeds had
acquired for him, among his people, the
rank of “bravest of the brave.” The
savage practice of torturing and burn-
ing to death their prisoners existed in
this nation. An unfortunate female,
taken in war, of the Paduca nation,
was destined to this horrible death.
The fatal hour had arrived: the trem-
bling victim, far from her home and her
friends, was fastened to the stake: the
whole tribe was assembled on the sur-
rounding plain, to witness the awful
scene. Just when the wood was about

to be kindled, and the spectators were
on the tiptoe of expectation, this young
warrior, who sat composedlyr among the
chiefs, having before prepared two fleet
horses, with the necessary provisions,
sprang from his seat, rushed through the
crowd, loosed the victim, seized her in
his arms, placed her on one of the her-
ses, mounted the other himself, and
made the utmost speed towards the
nation and friends of the captive. The
multitude, dumb and nerveless with
amazement at the daring deed, made no
effort to rescue their victim from her
deliverer. They viewed I t as the act of
their deity, submitted to it without a
murmur, and quietly retired to their
village. The released captive was ac-
companied through the wilderness to-
ward her home, till she was out of
danger. He then gave her the horse
on which she rode, with the necessary
provisions for the remainder of her
journey, and they parted. On his re-
turn to the village, such was the respect
entertained for him, that no inquiry was
made into his conduct; no censure was
passed on it : and, since this transaction,
no human sacrifice has been offered in
this or any of the Pawnee tribes. Of
what influence is one bold act in a good
cause!
On the publication of this anecdote
at WVashington, the young ladies of a
female seminary, in that city, presented
this brave and humane Indian with a
handsome silver medal, on which was
engraven an appropriate inscription ,
accompanied by an address, of which
the following is the close :——“Brother.
accept this token of our esteem ; always
wear it for our sake; and, when you
have again the power to save a poor
woman from death and torture. think of
this and of us, and fly to her rescue.”
204. HUMILITY.
(a) “BY THE GRACE OF GOD
AM WHAT I AM.”-—Two or three
years before the death of John Newton,
when his sight~Was so dim that he was
no longer able to read, an aged friend
and brother in the ministry called on
him to ;reakfast. Family prayer suc-
ceeding, the portion of Scripture for the
day was read to him. It was suggested
by “ Bogatsl<y’s Golden Treasury :”
“ By the grace of God, I am what I
am 77
It was the good man’s custom,/
380
HUMILITY.
204
.¢_.-—-I-
on these occasions, to make a few short
remarks on the passage read. After
the reading of this text, he paused for
some moments, and then uttered the fol-
lowing affecting soliloquy :——“I am not
what I ought to be ! Ah ! how irnperfect
and deficient! I am not what I wish to
be! I abhor that which is evil, and I
would cleave to what is good! Iam
not what I hope to be! Soon, soon,I
shall put off mortality, and with mortal-
ity all sin and imperfection! Yet,
though I am not what I ought to be, nor
what I wish to be, nor what I hope to
be, I can truly say I am not what I once
was, a slave to sin and Satan; and I
can heartily join with the apostle, and
acknowledge, “By the grace of God,
1 am what I am I” Let us ray 1”
(b) MATI-IER’S RETRACTION.
—Dr. Cotton Mather had maintained,
with much earnestness, a particular
opinion in the prime of life. In ad-
vanced age, he re-examined the wri-
tings of his opponent which he had re-
plied to, and was convinced of his
error. This fact he was careful to ac-
mowledge.
(c) REYNOLDS AND THE OR-
PHAN.—--A lady applied to the emi-
nent philanthropist of Bristol, Richard
Reynolds, on behalf of a little orphan
boy. After he had given liberally, she
said, “I/Vhen he is old enough, I will
teach him to name and thank his bene-
factor.” “ Stop,” said the good man,
“Thou art mistaken. \Ve do not
thank the clouds for rain. Teach him
to look higher, and thank HIM who
giveth both the clouds and the rain.”
(rt) THE NOBLEMAN AND THE
PRAYER MEETING.——A nobleman
was in the habit of attending a prayer
meeting in the country village where he
lived, and where a few poor people were
accustomed to assemble to seek the
presence of the Divine Majesty. It
was at first customary for these humble
persons to make way for him if he
came in a little after the appointed
time; but he expressed his unwilling-
ness to receive this mark of respect,
saying he should be satisfied to occupy
the lowest station. In other places he
thought he had a right to claim the dis-
tinctions of his rank ; but there he felt


himself in the same situation as them-
selves. Such conduct displayed the
genuine feelings of piety, which rising
superior to the artificial distinctions of
society, rejoices in the fellowship of the
body of Christians.
(6) LOUIS IX AND THE KIT-
CHEN BOY.--Louis the IXth, king of
France, was found instructing a poor
kitchen boy; and being asked why he
did so, replied, “The meanest person
hath a soul as precious as my own, and
bought with the same blood of Christ.”
(f) OVERLOOKING SELF.-—
“ On a visit to London,” says the Rev.
J. Campbell, in a letter to aminister,
“ I was expressing a great desire to see
the late Mr. Charles of Bala, with
whom I had corresponded “or three
years concerning a remarkable revival
which had taken place under his minis-
try. Mr. C. happening to be in town at
the same time, your father kindly took
me to Lady Ann Erskine’s, where he
resided. lVe spent there two happy
hours. Your father requested Mr. C.
to favor us with a brief outline of the
circumstances which led to the remark.
able revival at Bala, and its surround.
ing region, its progress, &c. He did so
for upwards of an hour. On our leav-
ing him, your father said, ‘Did you not
observe the wonderful humility of Mr. C.
in the narrative he gave ? Never having
once mentioned himself, though he was
the chief actor and instrument in the
whole matter.” ’
(g) ELEVATION BY HUMIL.
ITY—In the evening of the day that
Sir Eardley W ilmot kissed the hand of
his majesty, on being appointed chief
justice, one of his sons, a youth of
seventeen, attended him to his bed-side.
“Now,” said he, “my son,I will tell
you a secret worth your knowing and
remembering. The elevation I have
met with in life, particularly this last
instance of it, has not been owing to
any superior merit or abilities, but to
my humility ; to my not having set up
myself above others, and to a uniform
endeavor to pass through life void of
offence towards God and man.”
(It) THE CONVERTED INDIAN.
——In the year 1742, a veteran warrior
of the Lenape nation and Monsey tribe
381
204
HUMILITY.
renowned among his friends for his
bravery, and dreaded by his enemies,
joined the Christian Indians at Bethle-
hem, Pa. He was now at an advanced
age, full of scars, and all over tattooed
with the scenes of the actions in which
he hai been engaged. All who heard
his history thought that it could never
be surpassed. This man was brought
under the influence of religion; and
when he was afterwards questioned re-
specting his warlike feats, he modestly
replied, “that being now taken captive
by Jesus Christ, it did not become him
to relate the deeds done while in the
service of the evil spirit: but that he
was willing to give an account of the
manner in which he had been con-
quered.”
“THE SONS OF GOD.”—An
individual, says a missionary, employed
in the translation of the Scriptures at a
station where I resided, on arriving at
the passage, “ N ow are we the sons of
God!” etc., 1 John iii. 2, came run-
ning to me in great haste, exclaiming,
“ No, no, it is too much 5 allow me to
render it, ‘ N ow are we permitted to kiss
his feet.’ ” A simple and beautiful re-
presentation of those feelings with which
Christians should ever contemplate the
dignity of their character, and the hon-
or conferred on them.
THE PREACHER AND THE
FARMER.—The Rev. Mr. R , in
a sermon before a numerous audience,
composed in part of preachers, related
the following anecdote, illustrative ot
the influence of humility in subduing
a suspicious and repugnant mind.
A young preacher, said he, on going
to a distant field of labor, had occasion
to stop over night with a farmer, a
member of a church, an honest man,
but, unhappily, of a peevish, suspicious
temper, that had been exasperated by
several instances of imposture, in which
vagrant men had availed themselves of
his hospitality under the character of
Christian ministers. The young
preaoher had just commenced his min-
isterial career, his appearance was not
prepossessing, and he was depressed
with anxiety respecting his untried field
of labor. It was late in the evening
when he reached the gate of the farm-


H
yard. The farmer came forth to mee
him with chilling coldness. He made
surly inquiries about his name, whence
he came, whither he was going, etc.,
expressing, meanwhile, by his looks his
suspicions ; and giving very direct inti-
mations about false pretensions, etc.
WVeary and depressed as was the stran.
ger, he felt a momentary indignation,
but, repressing it, he resolved to copy
the meekness of his Master, and, by his
example, if not otherwise, attempt to
cure the perversity of his rustic host.
He was pointed to the stable, with per-
mission to feed his horse, and come into
the house. As he approached the
house he was directed to the kitchen.
Some food was spread on a rude table
for him. The hired men in the kitchen
whispered to each other their surprise
that he was not invited into the parlor.
Though of humble origin himself, he
felt keenly the indignity of his treat-
ment: the pride of his heart for a mo-
ment revolted, and he arose to resume
his journey, with the prospect of a rainy
night: but he suddenly checked his
feelings, and, looking to God, resolved
to await patiently the result of this
strange scene.
It was not long before all were called
into another room for family prayers.
The preacher followed the hired labor-
ers, and took his seat in a corner. The
farmer read a chapter in the Bible. At
the end of it he was evidently embar.
rassed by an inward struggle, not know-
ing what to do ; but, finally, turning to
the preacher, he abruptly asked him to
pray.
They knelt down, and the young
man, oppressed with feelings which
prayer could best relieve, poured out
his soul and tears before God. A di-
vine influence came down on all pres-
ent, they sobbed around him. The
meek pathos of his tones, the spirituali-
ty of his sentiments, the evangelical
views involved in the prayer, and -1.3
prevailing earnestness, struck all pres-
ent. The morose farmer, subdued and
melted, approached him at the conclu-
sion of the prayer, and, in the presence
-of the family, with flowing tears, begged
his pardon. “I should not have been
so suspicious,” said he. “but l have
382
HUMILITY..
been all day under a strong temptation
of the adversary—-my mind has been
irritable-my conduct towards you to-
night, is a mystery to myself; I cannot
account for it, even by the state of my
mind during the day. I have not been
myself, or I would not have so treated
you. Forgive me, sir. How have you
been able to endure it ?” “ My Lord,”
replied the youthful preacher, “ has
said, ‘ Learn of me, for I am meek and
lowly in heart.’ It is my ambition to
do so. Try, my brother, to learn the
same lesson.” It was the keenest re-
buke that could be given to the farmer;
he felt its pertinency, made the hum-
blest acknowledgments, and begged his
maltreated guest to tarry at the house
several days, and preach to the family
and neighbors. His engagements
would not allow him to remain so long;
but, such was the importunity of his
host, that he consented to preach next
day. That night he reposed in the best
chamber in the house, and his rest was
sweetened by the thought that he had
conquered a oerverse mind by an ex-
ample of meekness. Phe next day he
preached with deep effect, and went on
his journey with the prayers and bless-
ings of the farmer.
“ And what do you suppose,” said the
Rev. Mr. R , “ was the result?
The old farmer was a better man ever
after: the sermon had a salutary influ-
ence on the whole neighborhood, several
were awakened, and among them, three
of the farmer’s children; two of them
have since gone safe to heaven. Ah!
it is the temper of Christ that fits us for
usefulness !”
(la) TRUE MISSIONARY SPIRIT.
--The Rev. Dr. Morrison, of China, af-
tei having for some years labored at
Canton, earnestly requested the Direc-
lt‘,l'S of the London Missionary Society
to send him out a colleague; their at-
tention was directed to Mr. (afterwards
Dr.) Milne. A circumstance occurred
on his first introduction to the friends of
that Society, which at once showed his
tlevotedness to the Savior’s cause, and
the humble opinion he entertained of
himself. On his appearance before the
committee at Aberdeen, he seemed so
rustic tnd unprnmising, that a worthy


member took Dr. Philip aside, and ex-
pressed his doubts whether he had the
necessary qualifications for a missiona-
ry; but added, that he would have no
objection to unite in recommending him
as a servant to a mission, provided h\
would be willmg to engage in that ca
pacity. “ At the suggestion of mg
worthy friend,” says Dr. Philip, “ I de-
sired to speak with him alone. Having
stated to him the objection which had
been made, and/asked him if he would
consent to the proposal, re replied, with-
out hesitation, and with the most signifi
cant and animated expression of coun-
tenance, “Yes, sir, most certainly; I
am willing to be any thing, so that I am
in the work. To be ‘ a hewer of wood
and a drawer of water’ is too great an
honor for me when the Lord’s house is
building.”
(Z) “NONE TO SPEAK OF.”—-
Dr. Lathrop was a man of generous pi-
ety, but much opposed to the noisy zeal
that seeketh the praise of men. A
young divine who was much given to
enthusiastic cant, one day said to him-—-
“ Do you suppose you have any real rc-
ligion ?” “None to speak of,” was the
excellent reply.
(m) DR. CAREY’S HUMILfTY.—-
When Dr. Carey, the Missionary, was
suffering from a dangerous illness, the
inquiry was made, “If this sickness
should prove fatal, what passage would
you select as the text of your funeral
sermon?” He replied, “ Oh, I feel
that such a poor sinful creature as I, is
unworthy to have any thing said about
-him; but if a funeral sern-in should be
preached let it be from the 51st Psalm,
and first verse—‘ Have mercy upon
me, O God. according to thy loving-
kindness ; according unto the multitude
of thy tender mercies, blot out my
transgressions.’ ”
The following extract from the will
of this eminent Missionary, is equally
illustrative of the general humility of
his character. “I direct that my fu-
neral be as plain as possible, and tha
the following inscription and nothing
more be cut out on my grave-stone, ":2.
VVILLIAM CAREY, BORN Aueusr ]7'rn, 1 vi ;
DIED
“ A wretched, poor and helpless worm,
On thy kind arms Ifall.”

383
905
HYPOCRISY.
--Q> ‘ --~4\-.--0 av--Q
205. HYPOCRISY.
J‘
(a) THE HYPOCRITE’S END.-
The following fact is related by the au-
thor of Pastoral Letters. N was a
branch of a pious family, some of whose
ancestors were martyrs. She was re-
ligiously educated by her pious parents ;
and her education, particularly her
knowledge of history, was extensive.
In her study of history the progress of
religion had attracted her chief atten-
tion. Religious topics were her ele-
ment ; her rernarks often evinced the
correctness and vigor of her judgment ;
and she often delighted the social circle
by her striking application of the cur-
rent matters of conversation to the sub-
iect of religion. Like the rest of the
pious family, she seemed devoted to all
the duties of a Christian, with only one
exception, and this they wondered at;
that she did not attend with them at the
Lord’s table. All regarded her as an
ornament of religion, and urged her to
take a part in this ordinance.
In one year N lost both her pi-
ous parents, and she had just put off
mourning, when she was taken desper-
ately ill. Having been on terms of in-
timacy with the family, I was sent for
at her request to visit the dying sister.
I certainly went prepared to see a
Christian die : but what was my aston-
ishment to behold those features, instead


of smiling in death, as I expected,‘
clothed in all the horrors of mental ago-
ny! Bidding me sit down, and ascer-
tain-ing there were no witnesses, she
addressed me in nearly these terms:
. am grad you are come : I cannot bear
to go out of the world a deceiver, but I
am unable to tell the sad secret of my
heart to those about me, it would be too
much for them to hear. I am not the
character my friends have supposed. I
am not religious --do not interrupt me—
I have talked about religion, my pas-
sions have often felt the powers of the
world to come, and my imagination
roved at large among things unseen ; I
have amused myself with these matters,

and regarded with the interest of an
amateur their effects upon minds whom
I reckoned of an inferior order, though
ennobled by a birth from heaven. But
amidst all, my own heart has never
loved religion as a personal thing: in-
deed, I have never concerned myself
about it for myself, and now I must die
without any of its prospects, and be shut
out forever from all its enjoyments.”
I paused a moment and began to ob-
serve that “ Life is the season of hope,”
and admitting all I heard to be correct,
still the Savior’s saying, “ Whosoever
cometh unto me I will in no wise cast
out,” is equally entitled to credit. But
she cut me short, observing, “ The vig-
or of my youth and the strength of my
intellect I have wasted in living
to myself; I never cared for the
divine approbation; and God is justly
my adversary. Cast down as I am,I
cannot go with a piteous tale of misery
to petition for mercy for which I car
plead no services, nor live to show any
gratitude. I know already what you
would say to these sentiments—you
would hold out mercy as yet attainable ;
but my heart revolts at it. Heaven
would be no heaven to me on the terms
I can only enter it. I have been a
worthless idler, and cannot endure to
receive the reward of a faithful sol-
dier.”
Surprised as Iv_vas,I endeavored to
enforce the necessity of renouncing such
sentiments, and was urging that a good
confession, though late, would find ac-
ceptance, when she interrupted me with
some energy: “ N o, sir, spare me, spare
yourself, my character is finished ; what
I am that shall I be forever. The tree
is even now falling : it is too late to di-
rect where its trunk shall be extended
on the earth.”
The doctor coming in, I soon after
took my leave, intending to renew my
visit, but in the morning learned mat
N had expired in the night.

384
IDLENESS. 205, 206

.-—_— -¢-—- ~
([1) HYPOCRITES IN ACCESSL I extensively, he states that whilst such
BLE.—-President Edwards remarks, as l immense multitudes, and a large pro-
the result of long and close observation, portion ofaall ages and conditions in
that, of all sinners, unconverted profea life were powerfully wrought upon, and
ears of religion are the most hopeless. driven to seek refuge from the wrath to
In his account of the great New Eng- come, unconverted professors stood alone
land revival in which he labored very unmoved.
206. IDLENESS.
ta) BLOWING THE BELLOWS.
—The happiness to be derived from re-
tirement from the bustle of the city, to the
peaceful and rural scenes of the coun-
try, is more in idea, than it often proves
to be in reality. A tradesman in Lon-
don, who had risen to wealth from the
humble ranks of life, resolved to retire
to the country to enjoy, undisturbed, the
rest of his life. For this purpose, he
purchased an estate and mansion in a
sequestered corner in the country, and
took possession of it. While the alter-
ations and improvements which he di-
rected to be made were going on, the
noise of hammers, saws, chisels, etc.
around him, kept him in good spirits.
But when his improvements were fin-
ished, and his workmen discharged, the
stillness every where disconcerted him,
and he felt quite miserable. He was
obliged to have recourse to a smith up-
on his estate for relief to his mind, and
he actually engaged to blow the bel-
lows for a certain number of hours in
the day. In a short time this ceased to
afford the relief he desired ; he return-
ed to London, and acted as a gratuitous
assistant to his own clerk, to whom he
had given up his business.
(h) DISEASE A RELIEF.-—A
tradesman who had acquired a large
fortune in London, retired from busi-
ness, and went to reside in Worcester.
His mind, without its usual occupation,
and having nothing else to supply its
place, preyed upon itself, so that exist-
ence became a torment to him. At last
he was seized with the stone; and a
friend, who found him in one of its se-
verest attacks, having expressed his
condolcnce, “ N o, no, sir,” said he, “ do
not pity me ; for I assure you what I

now feel is ease compared with he tor-
ture of mind from which it relieves me.”
(0) CLARENDON’S NEIGIIBOR.
—“ When I visited a country neighbor
of mine” (says Lord Clarendon) “ 1n the
morning,I always found him in bed;
and when Icame in the afternoon, he
was asleep, and to most men besides
myself, access was denied. Once walk-
ing with him, I doubted he was melan-
choly, and, by spending his time so
much in bed, and so much alone, that
there was something that troubled him ;
otherwise that it could not be that a man
upon whom God had poured so many
blessings should be so little contented as
he appeared to be. To which he an-
swered, ‘ that he thought himself the
most happy man alive in a wife who
was all the comfort he could have in
this world ; that he was at so much ease
in his fortune, he did not wish it great-
er; but he said he would deal freely
with me, and tell me, if he were mel-
ancholy, (which he suspected himself
of,) what was the true cause of it ; that
he had somewhat he knew not what to do
with ; he knew not how to spend his
time ; which was the reason he loved his
bed so much, and slept at other times,
which he said he found did him already
no good in his health.’ ” Lord Claren-
don adds, that the unhappy gentleman’s
melancholy daily increased with the ag-
ony of his thoughts, till he contracted
diseases which carried him off at the
age of thirty-six.
(d) IDLENESS AND IRRELl-
GION.—-Dr. Dwight says, “ Among
all those, who, within my knowledge,
have appeared to become sincerely pen-
itent and reformed,I recollect only a
single lazy man: and this man became
25
385
206,207
IDOLAdRY,FOLLY OF.
—-—-
industrious from the moment of his ap-
parent, and, I doubt not, real conver-
sion.” 1'
(e) THE SPIRITUAL MONK.-—
A certain brother came to the convent
at Mount Sinai, and finding all the
monks at work, shook his head and said
IO the Abbot, “ Labor not for the meat
which perisheth,” and, “ Mary hath cho-
sen that good part.” “Very well,”
said the Abbot, and ordered the good
brother to a cell and gave him a book
to read. The monk retired, and sat
hour after hour all day long alone;
wondering much that nobody called
him to dinner, or offered him any re-
freshment. Hungry and wearied out,
the night at length arrived: he left his


---_
solitary cell and repaired to the apart-
ment of the Abbot. “ Father,” says he,
“ do not the brethren eat today I”
“ Oh yes,” replied the Abbot, “they
have eaten plentifully.” “Then how
is it, Father,” said the monk, “that you
did not call me to partake with them ’?”
“Because, brother,” replied the Abbot,
“ you are a spmtual man, and have no
need of carnal food. For our part, we
are obliged to eat, and on that account
we work ; but you, brother, who have
chosen ‘the good part,7 you sit and
read all the day long, and are above the
want of the meat that perisheth.”
“ Pardon me, Father,” said the monk,
“ I perceive my mistake.”
207. IDOLATRY, FOLLY OI‘.
ta) A BECHUANA’S VIEWV OF
IDOLATRY.--A Bechuana man, says
a missionary, once came into my house
and sat himself down. He took up one
of our missionary sketches that was ly-
ing near him; having looked at it, he
concluded that the figures upon it--ug-
ly ones——represented living animals. It
never entered into his mind that man
would make a thing that never existed.
He asked my little daughter Mary,
“ What game is this '2” She said,
“They are not game; there are na-
tions that worship these things.”
“ Oh I” said he, “how you tell fibs.”
She replied, “I am not telling fibs. I
heard mamma say so, and my mamma
does not tell fibs.” He asked her again
what game they were, and she again
told him that they were things that were
worshipped, for they have no name for
idols. He burst out into an exclama-
tion of wonder, questioned her again,
out received the same answer---that
people worshipped these things the same
as her papa wished them to worship Je-
hovah and Jesus. The man was full of
amazement, and repeated that she was
telling fibs ; but she maintained the
truth of what she said, and told him to
go to her papa. He came to me and
said, “ Look at that; your daughter

says so and so. Is it true?” I saic,
“ It is.” Having looked at me with as-
tonishment, he said, “I -know you do
not tell lies ;” and laying the paper
down upon a piece of timber that I was
planing, he looked at it, put his hands to
both sides of his head, and waving it
backwards and forwards, said, “The
people that make these things of wood
and stone,——have they got heads like
Bechuanas '2” “ Yes,” I replied, “they
have heads.” “Have they got legs '2”
“ Yes, they have legs.” “ Have they
got a pair of bellows to breathe
through I” (he meant lungs.) “ Yes.”
The man’s wonder continued to in-
crease, and he then asked, “Can they
talk, and think, and speak? Can they
reason’? Can they explain a difficult
thing’.2 Can they speak in a public
meeting like cur senators '2” On being
told that they could do all these things,
he said, “ After this, never say that tne
Bechuanas are either foolish or igno
rant.” Taking from his neck a whistle
made of ivory, and carved with some
device, perhaps a man’s head, or a
buffalo, or a giraffe, he looked at the
whistle with great reverence, and neo-
ding his head in a very solemn way, he
said, “ What would my people think if
Iwere to worship that?” Just at that
386
IDOLATRY, FOLLY OF.

_'_-—.-v,__—---
207
moment, while he was talking with
much animation, his staff dropped from
his hand Hr grasped it, and pointing
to tne picture, he held up his staff and
said, “ This looks as well as this mon-
ster, and lmight as well worship my
I
» _.-_,-1
Jews in this manner: ‘If God had no
delight in the worship of idols, why did
he not destroy them ?’ The Jews made
answer, ‘If men had worshipped only
things of which the world had had nc
need, he would have destroyed the ob-
stafl' just as you worship Jehovah. i jects of their Worship; but they also
What would my people think if I were I worship the sun and moon, stars and
to do so’.2 They would think I was a ‘
madman, and would throw me over a‘
precipice, and cover me with stones.”
(b) THROWING DOWN THE
IDOLS.——A native gentleman of India,
in relating his history to one of the mis-
sionaries, said ;-—-
My father was an officiating priest of
a heathen temple, and, was considered
in those days, a superior English
scholar; and, by teaching the English
language to wealthy natives, realized a
very large fortune. At a very early
period, when a mere boy, I was em-
ployed by my father to light the lamps
in the pagoda, and attend to the various
things connected with the idols. I
hardly remember the time when my
mind was not exercised on the folly
of idolatry. These things, I thought,
were made by the hand of man, can
move only by man, and, whether treat-
ed well or ill, are unconscious of either.
Why all this cleaning, anointing, illum-
inating, ete.? One evening, these con-
siderations so powerfully wrought on
my youthful mind, that instead of plac-
ing the idols according to custom, I
threw them from their pedestals, and
left them with their faces in the dust.
My father, on witnessing what I had
done, chastised ms so severely, as to
leave me almost dead. I reasoned with
him, that if they could not get up out
of the dust, they were not able to do
what I could; and that instead of being
worshipped as gods, they deserved to lie
in the dust, where I had thrown them.
He was implacable, and vowed to dis-
inherit me, and, as the first step to it,
sent me away from his house. He re-
lented on his death-bed, and left me all
his wealth.
(c) A JEW’S AR GUMENT.-—
“Some Roman senators examined the

planets; and then he must have de-
stroyed his worlds for the sake of these
deluded men.’ ‘But still,’ said the
Romans, ‘ why does not God destroy the
things which the world does not want,
and leave those things which the world
cannot be without ?’ ‘Because,’ replied
the Jews, ‘this wculd strengthen the
hands of such as worship these neces- I
sary things, who would say, Ye allow
new that these are gods, since they are
not destroyed.’ ”
(cl) SERVING GOD IVORSE
THAN A THIEF.——As Mr. Kincaid
was preaching to the people, in Arracan,
a man took up manfully on the side of
Gaudama, while another man, who had
been a great opposer, occasionally threw
in a word in favor of Mr K., when the
following conversation took place be-
tweenthe two men:
“ You have, become a disciple of
Christ, have you? You join with this
foreign teacher, do you, to prove that
our god is no god, and that our religion,
which has stood a thousand years, is
only a cheat and a fable ‘.3 You are
like a dog that is coaxed away by a
thief-—you may as well lick honey from
the edge of a razor as to listen to this
foreigner."’ Very well,” replied my
new ally, “ I have reviled this religion,
and this teacher more than you have,
but I was a fool with both my eyes shut
—-—this religion is true, and every body
would believe it if they knew what it is.
We make a god of wood, and then put a
rope around his neck, and carry him ofl
to his own place, and then put a fence
around him, and keep him there till the
white ants eat him up. \Ve would not
serve a thief as bad as this. There is
as much evidence to prove that Granda-
ma was a monkey, as that he was E
god.”
387
208
IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED.
— ___ ~\‘
208. IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED.
(a) THE PERJURER’S IMPRE.
CATION.-—A man once waited on a
magistrate near Hitchin, in the county
of I-lertford, (Eng.) and informed him
that he had been stopped by a young
gentleman in Hitchin, who had knocked
him down and searched his pockets;
but not finding anything, he had suffered
him to depart. The magistrate, aston-
ished at this intelligence, despatched a
messenger to the young gentleman,
ordering him to appear immediately,
and answer to the charge exhibited
against him. The youth obeyed the sum-
mons, accompanied by his guardian and
an intimate friend. Upon their arrival at
the seat of justice, the accused and accus-
er were confronted; when the magistrate
hinted to the man, that he was afraid he
had made the charge with no other view
than that of extorting money, and bade
him take care how he proceeded; ex-
horting him, in the most earnest and
'athetic manner, to beware of the
L readful train of consequences attending
perjury. The man insisted upon mak-
ing oath to what he had advanced ; the
oath was accordingly administered, and
the business fully investigated, when the
nmocence of the young gentleman was
established, by the most incontrovertible
evidence. The infamous wretch, find-
ing his intentions thus frustrated, re-
turned home much chagrined ; and
neeting soon afterwards with one of his
neighbors, he declared he had not sworn
to any thing but the truth, calling God
to witness the same in the most solemn
manner, and wished, if it was not as he
had said, his jaws might be locked, and
that his flesh mignt rot upon 1is bones ;
when, terrible to relate, his jaws were
instantly arrested, and he was deprived
of the use of the faculty he had so
awfully perverted I After lingering
nearly a fortnight, he expired in the
greatest agonies, his flesh literally rot-
ting upon his bones.
(b) THEN LET IT CRUSH ME
TO ATOMS.—-I knew a man, says a
correspondent of the “Tract Maga-
mine, I’ in 1825, who was very much ad-

dicted to swearing, and attempts to can
vince him of the error of his ways were
in vain ; all reproof was lost upon him.
He was a laborer in a stone quarry, and
having one day fastened a stone to a
rope, for the purpose of being hoisted
up, the man at the top of the quarry
said he thought the rope was not strong
enough; the man below immediately
replied, with a most dreadful oath,
“ Then let it crush me to atoms.” The
wretched man had hardly uttered these
words, when the stone fell, and hurried
his unprepared soul into the presence of
his offended God.
(0) INSCRIPTION AT DEVIZES.
—-The following inscription is to be seen
in the marketplace at Devizes (Eng) ;
-—“ The mayor and corporation of De-
vizes avail themselves of the stability
of this building to transmit to future
times the record of an awful event,
which occurred in this market-place, in
the year 1753, hoping that such a re-
cord may serve as a salutary warning
against the danger of impiously invok-
ing the Divine vengeance, or of calling
on the holy name of God, to conceal the
devices of falsehood and fraud. On
Thursday, the 25th of January, 1753,
Ruth Pierce, of Pottern, in this county,
agreed with three other women to buy a
sack of wheat in the market, each pay-
ing her due proportion towards the same.
One of these women, in collecting the
several quotas of money, discovered a
deficiency, and demanded of Ruth
Pierce the sum which was wanting to
make good the amount. Ruth Pierce
protested that she had paid her share,
and said, she wished she might drop
down dead, if she had not. She rashly
repeated this awful wish, when, to the
consternation of the surrounding multi-
tude, she instantly fell down and expired,
having the money concealed in her
hand/’
(cl) THE OPPOSER’S PRAYER.
-—A candidate for the Christian ministry
was once invited to settle in New En-
gland. Ir. giving the invitation, there
was a get eral union in the church and
388
IMPRECATIONS ANSWERED.
208
_—
—--nn
society. A few, however, were opposed
to the settlement. Among the opposers,
one man was exceedingly bitter. This
person was open and exphcit in express-
ing the hatred of his heart toward those
doctrines, commonly called the doc-
trines of grace, that were preached by
the candidate. A few weeks previous
to the ordination, in conversation with
some neighbors on the subject of the
canoidate’s settlement among them, the
man expressed himself in the following
manner :—-“I wish I may die before he
is settled here.” The appointed day
approached, and the man remained un-
relenting in his opposition. On the
morning of the Sabbath preceding the
day of ordination, being in usual health
and busied in some domestic concern, he
was seized in a very surprising manner.
In a moment, he was struck into a
state of insensibility, speechless, and
nopeless. In this melancholy state he
continued till Wednesday morning, the
day of ordination, when, about two hours
oefore the commencement of the public
solemnities, according to his own desire,
he expired! His case was so extra-
ordinary as to baille the attempts of
skilful physicians, either to restore him
or to satisfy themselves as to the natural
cause of his situation.
(e) A COCK-FIGHTER’S CURSE.
—-A person who lived in the parish of
Sedgley, near Wolverhampton, (Eng)
havmg lost a considerable sum by a
match at cock-fighting, to which prac-
tice he was notoriously addicted, swore
in the most horrid ma11ner, that he would
never fight another cock as long as he
lived; frequently calling upon God to
damn his soul to all eternity if he did,
and with dreadful imprecations, wishing
the devil might fetch lQil'1'1lf he ever
made another bet. It is not to be won-
ri wed at, if resolutions so impiously
formed, should be broken; for a while
however, they were observed; but he
continued to indulge himself in every
other abomination to which his depraved
heart inclined him. But, about two
years afterwards, Satan, whose willing
servant he was, inspired him with a
violent desire to attend a cooking at
Wolverhampton; and he complie-.‘. with
he temptation. When he came rthe

0-__'-_
place, he stood up, as in defiance of
Heaven, and cried, “ I hold four to three
on such a cock.” “Four what '2” said
one of his companions in inquity.
“Four shillings,” replied be. ‘‘I’ll
lay,’7 said the other. Upon which they
confirmed the wager, and, as his custom
was, he threw down his hat, and put his
hand in his pocket for the money ;
when, awful to relate, he instantly fell
a ghastly corpse to the ground. Ter-
rifled at his sudden death, some who
were present, for ever after desisted
from this infamous sport; but others,
hardened in iniquity, proceeded in
the barbarous diversion, as soon as the
dead body was removed from the spot.
(f) BETTING AND DYING.-—
The following relation of facts was pre-
sented to the public, in several of the
London newspapers of February 13,
1814 :—-A melancholy event occurred
yesterday evening, between seven and
eight o’clock, at the cockpit, St. Giles‘s.
Whilst preparations were making for
the setting-to of the cocks, to engage in
this cruel sport, a Mr. Thorpe, from the
country, a well-known character, had
taken his seat in the front of the pit, and
not two minutes before his death, had
offered to back the Huntingdon birds
for ten guineas. He was observed to
lean his head forward, and appeared
somewhat ill. He made a kind of mean,
and instantly his color changed, and he
was a corpse. Surgical aid was imme-
diately procured, but the spark of life
was extinct. The body was removed to
a neighboring public-house, for the in-
spection of a coroner’s inquest. The
wife and sister of the deceased soon ar-
rived to see the body, and the reader
may judge of their feelings. It is a fact
no less singular than true, that the de-
ceased, half an hour before his death,
had said, “ The last time I was here, I
said, if ever I attended the pit again, I
hoped I should die there.” '
(g) THE FATHER'S \VISII.——In
the neighborhood of Hitchin, in Hert-
fordshire, there lived a few years ago a
laboring man, who having a cross child,
frequently wished, with an oath, that
his next child might be both deaf and
dumb. He afterwards had three chil-
dren, all of whom were deaf and dumb.
389
Q09
IN CON SISTENCY CF PROFESSED CHRISTIAN S.

-\ _.4-_-¢-~¢--’ —
209. INCONSISTENCY OF PROFESSED CHRISTIANS.
(at) THE lNDIAN’S INFER-
ENCE.——-Mr. Brainerd informs us, that
when among the American Indians, he
stopped at a place where there was a
great number, and offered to instruct
them in the truths of Christianity.
“ Why,” said one of them, “ should you
desire the Indians to become Christians,
seeing the Christians are so much worse
than the Indians? The Christians lie,
steal, and drink, worse than the Indians.
They first taught the Indians to be drunk.
They steal to so great a degree, that
their rulers are obliged to hang them
for it; and even that is not enough to
deter others from the practice. But
none of the Indians were ever hanged
for stealing ; and yet they do not’steal
half so much. WVe will not consent,
therefore, to become Christians, lest we
should be as bad as they. We will
live as our fathers lived, and go where
our fathers are, when we die.” Not-
Vt ithstanding that Mr. B. did all he could
to explain to them that these were not
Christians in heart, and that he did not
want them to become such as these, he
could not prevail on them to accept his
doctrine, but left them, mortified at the
thought that the wickedness of some,
who professed Christianity, should pro-
duce such prejudices.
(b) “ IT IS ALL A FARCE/’—
I heard, says a Christian minister, an
excellent sermon to young people, on a
New Year's day, in the morning. The
text was, “Redeeming the time, be-
cause the days are evil,” Eph. v. 16.
The minister then went to dine and
spend the rest of the day with a party,
where the time was spent in feasting,
levity, and folly. Late in the evening,
one of the party observed, “ Really this
is a poor way of redeeming the time.”
“ Pol; !” said another, “ it is all a farce.”
Let ministers and others beware lest
their inconsistencies should lead any to
deride the religion they profess.
(0) AN ATIHEIST QUIETINGCON-
SCIENCE. An atheist being asked by
a professor of Christianity, “how he
could quiet his conscience in so desper-


ate a state '2” replied, “ As much am
astonished as yourself, that believing the
Christian religion to be true, you can qui-
et your conscience in living so much like
the world. Didlbelieve what you pro-
fess, I should think no care, no diligence,
no zeal enough.” Alas! that there should
still, by Christians, be so much cause
given for the astonishment of atheists!
(cl) UNIVERSALIST’S ARGU-'
MENT.——Said a Universalist to a Cal-
vinist, “ Do you believe in eternal pun-
ishment '2" “ Yes," said the Calvinist.
“ No,” said the other, “ you do _ ~t be-
lieve any such thing. Why,” contin-
ued the Universalist, “ do you believe
that Mr. S. of believes in it 2 No,
he does not believe any such thing.”
Again the Universalist added, “ Do you
believe that Rev. Mr of be
lieves that I am going to hell’.2 He and
I have lived here these years;
he has met me hundreds of times in the
streets, and has never said a word to me
on the subject-—he does not believe any
such thing.”
(e) THE TYVO MlNISTERS.__.
As deep and ardent piety exerts its most
powerful influence upon those most in
timately acquainted, so a want of it will
be soonest detected, and most deeply
felt, in the domestic circle. This is il-
lustrated by the following facts.
In the village of O—-, N. Y ., there
lived a minister noted for the depth and
ardor of his piety. During an interest-
ing revival, his eldest daughter became
concerned about her eternal welfare.
At an evening meeting, the anxious
were invited to occupy a particular
seat, in token of their desire for an inte-
rest in the prayers of God’s people
The minister's daughter did not go for-
ward, but upon the arrival of the fami-
ly at home, she said, “Father, I want
you to pray for me.” The father in-
quired why she had not taken the anx
ious seat. The immediate and earnest
reply was, “I had rather you would
pray for me, than any body else in the
world.” At a time of similar interest
in the village of P , there lived a




390
INDUSTRY.
210
r—
_‘ ‘
minister who was perhaps equally ac- 'ter the state of her mind,) wrote a note
counted of in public, whose eldest
daughter was also convicted of sin.
She passed her time as usual, under the
paternal roof, but with a sad counte-
nance and heavy heart. Three days
passed, while deep distress of soul
was daily growing deeper. She then,
without the knowledge of her parents,
(neither of them having yet inquired af-
to a neighboring lady, most earnestly
Isoliciting her to come and pray for her
as a poor lost sinner. Christian fathers
and mothers! beware you do not des-
troy the confidence of your children in
your piety by your inconsistency, so that
(when under conviction for sin, and de-
Isirous of the prayers of others, they
,should, in like manner, pass you by.
210. INDUSTRY.
(a) CRESSIN’S DEFENCE.-PIL
ny tells us of one Cressin, who so tilled
and manured a piece of ground, that it
yielded him fruits in abundance, while
the lands around him remained extreme-
ly poor and barren. His simple neigh-
bors could not account for this wonder-
ful diiference on any other supposition
than that of his working by enchant-
ment; and they accordingly proceeded
to arraign him for his supposed sorcery,
before the justice seat. “How is it,”
said they, “ unless it be that he enchants
us, that he can contrive to draw such a
revenue from his inheritance, while we,
with equal lands, are wretched and
miserable?” Cressin was his own ad-
vocate; his case was one which re-
quired not either ability to expound, or
language to recommend. “ Behold,”
said he, “this comely damsel; she is
my daughter, my fellow laborer; be-
held, too, these implements of husband-
ry, these carts, and these oxen. Go
with me, moreover, to my fields, and
behold there how they are tilled, how
manured, how weeded, how watered,
how fenced in! And when,” added he,
raising his voice, “ you have beheld all
these things, you will have beheld all
the art, the charms, the magic, which
Cressin has used !”
The judges pronounced his acquittal,
passing a high eulogium on that indus-
try and good husbandry which had so
innocently made him an object of suspi-
cion and envy to his neighlnrs.
(Z2) THE CLERICAL GARDEN-
ER.--As Peter the Great, of Russia.
was travelling through a village in
France, he saw in a garden, belonging
to a parsonage, a man in a cassocl,
with a spade in his hand, digging hard
at some beds of vegetables.
The czar, much pleased with the
sight, alighted, and asked him who he
was. “ Sir,” answered the man, “I
am the clergyman of the village.” “ 1
took you for a gardener ; why are you
employed in this manner '2”
“The revenues of my living being
but very moderate,I do not choose to
be an expense to my parishioners, but
wish rather to have it in my power to
assist them ; they respect me the more
when they see that, to procure myself
some of the conveniences of life, I im-
prove this garden, and in this humble
occupation spend as much of my time
as the duties of my ministry will al-
low.”
“You are an honest man,’ replied
the czar ; “ and I esteem you the more
for thinking and acting in this manner;
tell me your name.” He drew out his
tablets, and wrote down the name of the
worthy clergyman; and, after telling
him who he himself was, and giving him
many proofs of kindness, he took leave
of him, and returned to his carriage.
I/Vhen he went back to Moscow. he
did not forget this scene, and endeavor-
ed to induce the priests in his empire to
imitate so virtuous an example.
(0) “COME AND GO.”-—-A gentle-
man in Surrey, (Eng.,) once held a farm
worth £280 a year in his own hands, till
he was obliged to sell half of it to pay his
debts, and let the other half to a farmer,
on a lease of 521 years. After a while,
7
the farmer wanted to buy the land.
“How is this,” said the gentleman,
391
2E0-— 212
IMPU LSES—IN F IDELIT Y .

,_._.
“ that I could not live upon the farm,
cine my own, while you have paid
rent, and yet are aile to purchase it '2”
“ 0,” said the farmer, “two words
make all the difl'erence: you said go,
and I say come ,- you lay in bed, or
took your pleasure, and sent others
about your business; and I rise be-
times, and see my business done my-
self.”
(d) A DILIGENT STUDENT.-
A correspondent of the New York
Evangelist gives a striking notice of the
Rev. John A. Sherman, a Missionary in
Benares, upon the Ganges, 500 miles
above Calcutta. While at Andover,
Mass., though on a passing visit, and in
a foreign land, where he wished to no-
tice things around him, he read, during
the ten days of his stay, Henry’s Life of
Calvin, a recent German work in three
large octavos, besides much in periodi-
cals, and besides spending considerable
time in social intercourse, preaching

-'_'_'Q"
twice, and delivering a most interesting
lecture, of two hours’ length, on India.
About two years of his time in India
has been spent in Calcutta, in .1ranslat-
ing and printing the Bible in the
Hindostan language, for the British and
Foreign Bible Society. While engaged
on this translation, he applied himself
from four in the morning till eight in
the evening, notwithstanding the intense
and sultry heat of Calcutta. And
strange as it may seem to some, he as-
signs this very fact of his intense appli-
cation, as a leading cause of his unin-
terrupted health and vigor “The man
who would live in India,‘ he says,
“ must have plenty of work ; if not, he
will yield to the enervating in.luence oi
the climate, and lounge away his days
upon the sofa, and consequently be toss-
ing all night on his sleepless couch, for
want of the requisite fatigue. Then
comes dejection of spirits, and utter
prostration of the whole man.”
' 211. IMPULSES.
ta) THE TEN COMMAND-
MENTS AND IMPULSES.—-“ Seve-
ral of you,” said Rev. R. Robison in a
sermon, “ know a good old man who de-
parted this life twenty years ago, and
who often exhorted you to live by the
Ten Commandments, and not by im-
pulses. He used to tell, you know,
how he got free from that delusion fifty
years before. Then he was pious and
poor, and, being only a lad, thought all
suggestions in Scripture style came
from heaven. Walking in the fields in

Want of firewood, by the side of a ne1gn
bor’s hedge, he wished some of it to
burn, and the impulse came clothed in
Scripture language, “ In all this Job
sinned not.” Believing thfs suggestion
to be the teaching of the Spirit, he began
to make free with his neighbor’s wood.
Presently he discovered his mistake by
trying his impulse with the eighth com-
mandment, “ Thou shaltnot steal,” and
so got rid of an error which might ha\e
led him out of the church into a fail.
IN FIDELITY.
CAUSES OF INFIDELITY-
Qlt. Ignorance.
(a) GENERAL HAMILTON’S
CONFESSION.—A young lawyer, in
conversation with Bishop Chase, related
the following fact respecting General
Hamilton which had occurred but a short
time before. The young lawyer had

been an infidel, but his mmo was now
changed, and this narration was given in
answer to Bishop Chase’s inquiry how
the change was brought about. “ In
pursuit of his professional duties Gen-
eral Hamilton passes from New York to
Albany, to attend the highest courts,
and Po zghkeepsie is his stopping-place
for res and social chat. We young
392
- mom in the day of judgment?
CAUSES OF IN FIDELITY.
212
lawyers delight to meet him at Hen-
drickson’s tavern, and there breathe to-
gether the atmosphere of wit and satire.
Not long since, he passed by : we gath-
ered round him, and he greeted us with
his usual cordiality. But there was
something altered in his wit—it was
solemn, yet more affectionate. At
length, to break the spell, I ventured, as
erst, a story, the edge of which was
ridicule against Christians and their
creed. As I finished the anecdote, in-
stead of the loud laugh, and responsive
tale, the General gravely asked me, if I
knew what I had been talking of ’.l
Confusion is the best name I can give
- my feelings and behavior before the
great man at such a question from his
lips. Seeing my embarrassment, he said
he did not design to give me pain, but
by his question, to call my attention to
his own case.
“ ‘ Not many months ago,’ said he, ‘ I
Was, as you are, doubtful of the truths
of Christianity; but some circumstan-
ces turned my thoughts to the investiga-
tion of the subject, and I now think
differently. I had been in company
with some friends of a similar sentiment
in New York. I had indulged in re-
marks much to the disadvantage of
Christians, and disparagement of their
religion. I had gone further than ever
before I had done in this way. Coming
home, I stood, late at night, on the door
steps, waiting for my servant. In this
moment of stillness, my thoughts re-
turned to what had just passed at my
friend’s and on what I had said there.
And what if the Christian religion be
true, after all? The thought certainly
was natural, and it produced in my bo-
som the most alarming feelings. I was
conscious that I had never examined it
—-not even with that attention which a
small retaining fee requires in civil
cases. In this I hold myself bound to
make up my mind according to the laws
of evidence ; and shall nothing be done
of this sort, in a question that involves
the fate of man’s immortal being?
Where every thing is at stake, shall I
bargain all without inquiry @-\Vilfully
blinding my own eyes, shall I laugh at
that, which, if true, will laugh me to
These

questions did not allow me to sleep
quietly. In the morning I sent to my
friends, the clergy, for such books as
treated on the evidence of Christianity
——I read them, and the result is, I be-
lieve the religion of Christians to be
the truth-that Jesus Christ is the Son
of God—-that he made an atonement for
our sins by his death, and that he rose
for our justification.’
“ This is the substance of General
Hamil’eon’s declaration to me at Hen-
drickson’s, and you may judge howI
feel since. As I have followed the Ge-
neral in many other respects, so would
I imitate him here.”
(Z2) SIR ISAAC NEWTON AND
HAL-LEY.—-Sir Isaac Newton set out
in life a clamorous infidel; but on a
nice examination of the evidences for
Christianity, he found reason to change
his opinions. WVhen the celebrated Dr.
Edmund I-Ialley was talking infidelity
before him, Sir Isaac addressed him
in these or like words? “ Dr. Hal-
ley, I am always glad to hear you when
you speak about astronomy or other
parts of the mathematics, because that
is a subject you have studied and well
understand; but you should not talk
of Christianity, for you have not stu-
died it. Ihave, and am certain that
you know nothing of the matter.”
This was a just reproof, and one that
would be very suitable to be given to
half the infidels of the present day,
for they often speak of what they
have never studied, and what, in fact,
they are entirely ignorant of. Dr.
Johnson, therefore, well observed, that
no honest man could be a Deist, for no
man could be so after a fair examina-
tion of the proofs of Christianity. On
the name of Hume being mentioned to
him, “ No, sir,” said he; “Hume own-
ed to a clergyman in the bishopric of
Durham that he had never read the N ow
Testament with attention.”
(c) CONFESSION OF COUNT
STRUENSEE.—-From the written and
published confessions of many converted
infidels, it would be easy to show that
the most violent opposers of the Bible are
generally those who are most ignorant
of its contents. An illustration of this
remark may be drawn from the history
393
Z252
IN FIDELITY.
_-_...._-.__.-.--,_

of the unfortunate Count Struensee,
prime minister of Denmark, under
Christian VII. whose downfall produced
the tragical revolution in the Danish
Ca Jinet of 1772.
This distinguished individual had
long been an avowed and zealous infi-
del, when he was suddenly hurled from
the summit of power to the horrors and
gloom of a dungeon. During the four
months he spent in prison under the
pious and zealous instruction of the Rev. I
Dr. Munter, he became thoroughly con-
vinced of the truth of Christianity, and,
as it appeared, a true penitent. In the
memorable confession which he wrote
before he went to the scaffold, he says,
“ My former unbelief and aversion to
religion, were founded neither upon an
accurate inquiry into its truth, nor upon
a critical examination of those doubts
which are generally made against it.
They arose, as is usual in such cases,
from a very general and superficial
knowledge of religion on one side, and
much inclination to disobey its precepts
on the other, together with a readiness
to entertain every objection which Idis-
covered against it.” In another place,
after having carefully examined the
evidences of Christianity and his former
objections by the aid of Dr. Munter, he
exclaims like a man awakened from a
dream, “I never imagined that Chris-
tianity was founded on such strong evi-
dences or that they would have convin-
ced me so. After a calm examination
Ihave found them to be unexception-
able, and none, if they only take the
proper time, and are not against the
trouble of meditating, can ever examine
it without being convinced of its truth.
Every thing is naturally and well con-
nected, and recommends itself to a mind
given to reflection. I never found in
Deistical writings a system so well
connected, and upon the whole I am in-
clined to believe there is no such thing
as a regular system of infidelity.”
218. Corruption of the Heart and Life.
(a) THE WAY TO ATI-1EISM.--
l was, says a New England minister,
some time before my conversion, under
serious impressions on the subject of re-

"-—-
ligion. I had a pious education, and
my awakened conscience now alarmed
me on account of my danger, and pain-
ed me on account of my guilt. I
would not submit to God, and I accord-
ingly tried to find relief in Universal-
ism. But I had to wrest and rack the
Scriptures so much to support that
wretched theory, that I soon became
convinced of the absurdity of trying
to believe the Bible and disbelieve in
future punishment I next threw away
the Bible, and trieo o find a solid foun-
dation in Deism. But I was still unsat-
isfied; and my next plunge was into
blank and utter Atheism. What pre-
sumption! A youth less than eighteen
years of age rejecting the Bible, deny-
ing the being of a God, and the immor-
tality of the soul! But my belief in all
this unbelief, was firm and unshaken.
llooked upon myself as possessed of
superior wisdom, Christians as simple-
tons, and religion as downright folly and
superstition.
Here I thought I had found relief—-
then no fear of God, man or devil dis-
turbed me.
[went to board in a pious family.
One evening after prayer, Mr. and
Mrs , who were pious persons, en-
tered into personal conversation with
me on the subject of religion. I frank-
ly told them it was in vain to talk with
me—that I was a downright Atheist.
They were astonished and thunder-
struck at-the declaration. After recov-
ering from the shock, they kindly en-
treated me to review the ground on
which I stood, and to seek my soul’s sal-
vation. A singularly incongruous ex-
hortation, as some would say, to a person
who believed he had no God to pray to,
and no soul to be saved. But had they
been insoired their words could scarcely
have been more adapted to meet my
case. Their tenderness had an effect
upon me which all the arguments of
theologians would not have accomplish-
ed. I retired to bed, but not to rest. I
was led to look back over my past
career; and my progress in skepti-
cism was all revealed before me as under
a blaze of light. I saw I had disbeliev-
ed, and that because I wished to disbe-
lieve. I saw‘ then what I had forgotten,

394
CURE OF INFIDELITY.
213, 214
-


-'l
or never distinctly known before, that I
had deceived myself into it, and I be-
held the course which I had taken to
blind my own eyes. The se§“ imposi-
tion and influence of desire upon my in-
fidel opinions was just as plain to me as
any fact in my past life. That review
of the process by which I had become
an infidel, (a process of which I was
previously unconseious,) convinced me
of the folly and falsity of infidelity. I
Was led to renounce its unholy dogmas,
and brought step by step to embrace the
humbling, and self-denying truths of the
gospel. I have often thought that if
‘the infidels of the present day could
have the heart in like manner bared be-
fore them, and see how its depraved
wishes have influenced their judgments,
in rejecting religion, they would lose
confidence, like myself. in their skepti-
cal notions, and come to a similar happy
result.
(Z2) CAUSE OF INFIDELITY
AVOWED. —— Mr. VI/ilberforce once
told the Rev. Wln. Jay that, some years
ago, passing through Dorchester during
Carliie’s confinement there, he went to
see him in prison, and endeavored to en-
gage him in a conversation upon the
Scriptures ; but he refused: he said he
had made up his mind, and did not wish
it to be perplexed again ; and, pointing
to the Bible in the hands of his visitor,
he said in an awful manner, “How, sir,
can you suppose that I can like that
Book’.2 for if it be true, I am undone
forever!” “No,” said tie pious phi-
lanthropist, “this is not the necessary
consequence, and it need not be; that
Book excludes none from hope who will
seek salvation by our Lord Jesus
Christ.”
(c) LOOSE LIFE, LOOSE CREED.
—-It has often been a matter of wonder,
that the principl_es and reasonings of infi-
dels, though frequently accompanied
with great natural and acquired abili-
ties, are seldom known to make any im-
pression on thoughtful people. tis said
of a deceased gentleman, who was emi-
nent in the literary world, that in early
life, he drank deeply into the free-think-
ing scheme. He, and one of his com-
panions of the same turn of mind, often
carried on their conversations ‘n the

hearing of a religious, but illiterate
countryman. This gentleman after-
wards became a true Christian, and felt
concern for the countryman, lest his
faith in Christianity should have been
shaken. One day, therefore, he asked
him, whether what had so frequently
been advanced in his hearing, had not
produced this effect upon him. “ By
no means,” answered the countryman;
“it never made the least impression
upon me.” “ No impression upon
you I” said the gentleman; “ why you
must have known that we had read and
thought on these things much more than
you had any opportunity of doing.‘7
“Oh, yes,” replied the man; “but I
knew also your manner of living; I
knew that to maintain such a course of
conduct, you found it necessary to re
nounce Christianity.”
((1) THEY WISHED IT TO BE
SO.—-Three young men who were ex-
ecuted in Edinburgh, in 1812, imme-
diately after committing the robberies
for which they sufi"ered, had gone to
Glasgow ; and one evening they heard
the family with whom they lodged, em-
ployed in the Worship of God. his
struck their minds exceedingly, and
suggested the question,—‘Whe1;her there
is a God, and a world to come '2 After
some discussion, they came to this con-
clusion,——‘ That there is no God, and
no world to come !’-——a conclusion, as
they themselves acknowledged, to
which they came on this sole ground—-
and how much infidelity that abounds
in the world rests on no better——that
they wished it to be so.
Q14. Cars of Infidelity.
(a) DR. NELSON'S TESTIMO.
NY.—Dr. Nelson, of Illinois, in his
work on Infidelity, says, that for many
years he had endeavored to persuade
every infidel to read some work on the
evidences of Christianity, and he never
knew but two instances fail of convic-
tion, and in these he did not know the
result for want of opportunity.
(6) OPPOSER TURNED APOL-
OGIST.-—Athenagoras, a famous Athe-
nian philosopher in the second century,
not only doubted'the truth of the, Chris-
395
211, 2&5
IN FIDELITY .
tian religion, but was determined to
write against it. However, upon an in-
timate inquiry into the facts on which it
Was supported, in the course of his col-
lecting materials for his intended publi-
cation, he was convinced by the blaze
of its evidence, and turned his designed
invective into an elaborate apology
which is still in existence.
(0) WEST AND LITTLETON.-—
Perhaps few events tend more power-
fully to impress the mind, as to the
overwhelming power of the evidence at-
tending true Christianity, than the fact,
that many who have sat down to read
the sacred volume with the view of op-
posing it, have been compelled, by the
force of conviction, cordially to embrace
its truths. From many instances of this
kind we select the following, as related
by the Rev. T. T. Biddulph : The effect
which was wrought on the mind of the
celebrated Gilbert West, by that partic-
ular evidence of our Lord’s resurrection
which was afforded to his apostles, was
very remarkable. He and his friend
Lord Littleton, both men of acknow-
tedged talents, had imbibed the princi-
ples of infidelity from a superficial view
of the Scriptures. Fully persuaded
that the Bible was an imposture, they
were determined to expose the cheat.
Mr. West chose e resurrection of
Christ, and Lord L1ttleton the conver-
sion of St. Paul, for the subject of hos-
tile criticism. Both sat down to their
respective tasks, full of prejudice, and a
contempt for Christianity. The result
of their separate attempts was truly ex-
traordinary. They were both convert-
ed by their endeavors to overthrow the
.ruth of Christianity. They came to-
gether, not, as they expected, to exult
over an imposture exposed to ridicule,
but to lament their own folly, and to
congratulate each other on their joint
conviction, that the Bible was the word
of God. Their able inquiries have fur-
nished two most valuable treatises in
favor of revelation; one entitled, “ Ob-
servations on the Conversion of S‘.
Paul,” and the other, “ Observations on
the Resurrection of Christ.”
(d) TAKING THE PART OF
THE CI-IRISTIAN.—The following
is from the communication of an Ameri-

-\
can clergyman who Writes in 1827)
for a Missionary to be sent to the place
referred to in this extract.
A settlement was commenced at S.
some ten years ago, by emigrants from
various sections of our country, but the
largest number, it is believed, were from
New England, many of whom were
men of intelligence and active industry.
There was not a single professor of re-
ligion among them, and nearly or quite
all had embraced Deistical sentiments,
and they manifested a disposition to shut
out the gospel from their settlement.
They frequently met for the sole pur-
pose of strengthening each other in
these sentiments. Nothing, for a time,
disturbed them. But, behold the Sove-
reignty of God! It was suggested by
one of their number, as their meetings
had been rather dull, “ to appoint some
one to take the part of the Christian.” _
The plan was approved, and the duty
was assigned to my informant. He un-
dertook the defence of Christianity. To
this end, it was necessary that he should
have a Bible, and also that he should
read it. But to use his own expression,
“ he thought Christianity should be the
last thing he would ever embrace.” He
was first delighted, then astonished, then
alarmed, with his own reasoning. He
continued to read, and soon found evi-
dence of the truth of Christianity which
his conscience could no longer resist.
He was humbled before God, and soon
after rejoicing in hope of his mercy ;
and set himself in good earnest to con-
vince his neighbors of his lost condition.
A little church is there organized, but
they have no one to break to them the
bread of life. What Missionary would
not be willing to enter a field like this?
915. Moral Character and Influenee of the
Doctrines and Supporters of Infidelity.
(a) GREATEST TERROR RE.
MOVED.-—A servant, upon whom the
irreligious conversation continually
passing at his master’s table, had pro-
duced its natural effect, wok an oppor-
tunity to rob him. Being apprehended,
and urged to give a reason for his mis-
conduct, he said. “ Sir,l had heard you
396
MORAL CHARACTER AND INFLUENCE.
215
__—
so often talk of the impossibility of a fu-
ture state, and that after death there
was no reward for virtue, nor punish-
ment for vice, that I was tempted to
commit the robbery.” “ Well, but had
you no fear,” asked the master, “ of the
death which the law of your country in-
fiicts upon the crime ?” “ Sir,” re-
joined the servant, looking sternly at his
master, “ what is that to you, if I had a
mind to venture that’.2 You had re-
moved my greatest terror ; why should
I fear the less ?”
(Z2) INFIDELS AT THE LORD’S
SUPPER.——Collins, though he had no
belief in Christianity, yet qualified him-
self for civil office by partaking of the
Lo:rd’s Supper; Shaftesbury did the
same ; and the same is done by hun-
dreds of infidels to this day. Yet these
are the men who are continually de-
claiming against the hypocrisy of
priests !
(-3) DYING TESTIMONY OF A
SOCIALIST.—A town missionary, in
Birmingham, attended a misguided infi-
del on his death-bed, and the system of
Socialism being referred to, the dying
man exclaimed, “ Call it not Socialism ;
call it Devilism! for it has made me
more like a devil than a man. Igot
into company, which led me to Social-
ism and to drinking. I rejected the
Bible, denied the Savior, and persuad-
ed myself that there was no hereafter;
and as the result, I acted the part of a
bad father and a bad husband. I have
the testimony of my master, that I was
a steady and respectable man until I
listened to the Owenites ; but, since
that time, I have become a vagabond,
and those who formerly knew me have
shunned me in the streets. The system
of the Owenite is worse than that of
Paine.” Such was the testimony of a
dying victim of Socialism.
(d) SEVERAL NOTED INFI-
DELS-—-—[f we look at the writings and
conduct of the principal adversaries of
Christianity, we shall form no very fl -
vorable opinion of their system, as to its
moral effects. The morals of Roches-
ter and Wharton need no comment.
Woolston was a gross blaspheme-r.
Blount solicited his sister-in-law to mar-
ry him 5 and, being refused, shot him-

self. Tindal was originally a Protest-
ant, then turned Papist, then Protestart
again, merely to suit the times ; and
was, at the same period, infamous for
vice in general, and the total want of
principle. He is said to have died with
this prayer in his mouth, “ If there be a
God, I desire that he may have mercy
upon me.” Hobbes wrote his “ Levia-
than” to serve the cause of Charles I ;
but finding him fail of success, he turn-
ed it to the defence of Cromwell, and
made a merit of this fact to the usurper,
as Hobbes himself unblushingly de-
clared to Lord Clarendon. Morgan had
no regard for truth, as is . vident from
his numerous falsifications of Scripture,
as well as from the vile hypocrisy of
professing himself a Christian in those
very writings in which he labors to des-
troy Christianity. Voltaire, in a letter
now in existence, requested his friend,
D’Alembert, to tell for him a direct and
palpable lie, by denying that he was the
author of the Philosophical Dictionary.
D’Alembert, in his answer, informed
him that he had told the lie. Voltaire
has, indeed, expressed his own moral
character perfectly in the following
words: “ Monsieur Abbe, I must be
read; no matter whether I am believed
or not.” He also solemnly professed to
believe the Roman Catholic religion, al-
though, at the same time, he elsewhere
professed to doubt the existence of God.
(6) FOUR SONS RUINED.—-
There was a place in New York, called
the “ Hall of Science,” which was
opened on Sundays for public lectures :
in the day-time lectures were given on
some of the sciences, and in the evening
a lecture was given in opposition to the
Christian or any other religion, and in
support of the doctrines of infidelhy. In
order to show the effect of this institu-
tion on the young mind, the N. Y. Eve-
ning Journal gives an extract from the
register of the House of Refuge, of the
progress of a boy in that institution.
He was about 16 years of age, and had
been a clerk for a merchant in New
York, who, on declining business, ex-
pressed his great satisfaction at the con-
duct of the boy. An elder brother had
been in the habit of attending the lee-
tures at the Hall of Science, and by de-
397
215, 216
INF IDELITY.

grees became an infidel, and he instilled
his notions into the mind of this boy;
the consequence of which was that he
threw off all restraint and united with
loose young men and boys in rioting,
&c.; neglected all business; wander-
ed about the streets and slept often in
stables, till finally his parents were ob-
liged to send him to the House of Refuge,
fearful that he would take to stealing to
support himself. The father said that
the influence of the doctrines taught at
the Hall of Science had ruined his
whole family of promising boys, (four
in number,) and that hearts almost bro-
ken, and much mental misery, had been
entailed upon the other portions of his
family and relatives.
(f) AN INFIDEL FAMILY.--
“ Mr. J. I- .,” says a writer in the
Christian Mirror, “was an inhabitant of
my native town, and with whom andhis
family I was well acquainted. He was
a man of good common sense, and was
blessed with more than a common
share of intellectual powers. His ac-
quired abilities were considerable, be-
ing a great reader, and possessing a te-
nacious memory. But he was a tho-
rough-going infidel I He early em-
braced the sentiments of Thomas Paine,
whose writings were his oracle. He
was often heard to make the most vul-
gar and blasphemous expressions con-
cerning our blessed Savior, and to re-
vile his religion! He was consistent
with his sentiments in all things; and
early educated his children to believe
and embrace his own opinions, and imi-
tate his practices. The old man lived
and died without any thing remarkable
befalling him personally. But not so
with his family—particularly his sons,
of whom he had five, all of whom lived
to become men and Infidels. The his-
iory of four of them will illustrate the
influence of parental instruction and ex-
ample, and show that infidelity leads to
vice and ruin. They were all, without
exception, dissipated and given to world-
ly pleasures in their youth. The eld-
est son soon became very intemperate.
He had a nife, and a large family of
little children, dependent on his labor
for their support. He removed to Bos-
ton, where he soon became a set and

vagabond. The city was obliged to
support his family; and after a long fit
of drunkenness, he was found dead one
morning in the street I
The next son never married. He
was a drunkard, a gamble‘ and a spend-
thrift from his youth. He removed into
Vermont, and after a drunken and gam-
bling frolic, he arose one morning and
plunged himself from the second story
of his boarding-house, which stood up-
an the bank of the Onion river, into the
vater and was drowned I
The third son was equally dissipated,
and having destroyed his constitution,
and squandered his earnings, he took a
rope and went and hanged himself!
The fourth, being unable to obtain the
means to support his dissipation byla-
bor, commenced with purchasing and
passing counterfeit money; was soon
apprehended, examined and bound for
his appearance at court. He obtained
bonds which he forfeited, by fleeing his
country. VVhat will be the end of the
youngest, who is now left in possession
of his father’s property, time will deter-
mme.
INFIDELITY AT VARIANCE WITH THE
REASON AND CONSCIENCE OF ITS
VOTARIES.
Q16. Shown by their own Confessions of
the Moral 'l‘endeney of Infidel Deetrines.
(a) IVHAT MADE HIM A MUR-
DERER '2-—-Cook, who was executed
for a very awful murder at Leicester,
(Eng.,) in his confession to the town
clerk, alluded to being connected with
a society, formed principally of deisti-
cal young men, who frequented a pub-
lic house in that town, in which he
writings of Paine, Carlile, and otnei
infidel authors, were taken In and en-
couraged. He emphatically added, ‘‘I
considered myself a moral young man,
attending, as ldid, some place of Chris-
tian worship three times a day ; till un-
fortunately, I got connected with the
above, and other infidel associations.”
(1)) HUME’S TESTIMONY.“
“Disbelief in futurity,” says Hume,
“loosens in a great measure the ties of
morality and may be supposed for that
398
CONFESSIONS IN FAVOR OF JHRISTIANITY.
216, 211

eason to be pernicious to the peace of
civil society.”
(0) HUME AND INFIDELITY
IN WOMEN .—-It is stated, in the
“Life of Dr. Beattie,” by Sir W.
Forbes, that Mr. Hume was one day
boasting to Dr. Gregory, that, among
his disciples in Edinburgh, he had the
honor to reckon many of the fair sex.
“ Now tell me,” said the doctor,
“ whether, if you had a wife or a
daughter, you would wish them to be
your disciples? Think well before you
answer me; for I assure you, that
whatever your answer is, I will not
conceal it.” Mr. Hume, with a smile,
and some hesitation, made this reply :-—-
“ No; I believe skepticism may be too
sturdy a virtue for a woman.”
(cl) VOLTAIRE’S CONFESSION.
—-One day that D’Alembert and Con-
dorcet were dining with Voltaire, they
proposed to converse of atheism, but
Voltaire stopped them at once. “ W/ait,”
said he, “till my servants have with-
drawn; I do not wish to have my
throat out tonight.”
217. Shown by their Confessions in favor
of Gliristianity.
(a) THE TWO TRAVELLERS.
--Two men were once travelling in the
far west ; one was a skeptic, the other
a Christian. The former was on every
occasion ready to denounce religion as
an imposture and professors as hypo-
crites. According to his own account
of the matter, he always suspected
those who made pretensions to piety,
felt particularly exposed in the com-
pany of Christians, and took special
care of his horse and watch when the
saints were around him. They had
travelled late one evening and were in
the wilderness. They at last drew near
to a solitary hut and rejoiced in the
prospect of a shelter, however humble.
They asked admission and obtained it.
But it Was almost as dreary and com-
fortless within, as without; and there
was nothing prepossessing in the ap-
pearance of its inha‘ ritants. These
were an elderly man, his wife, and two
Sons. sunburnt, hardy and rough. They
were apparently hospitable, and wel-

comed our travellers to such homely
fare as the forest afforded ; but this air
of kindness might be assumed to de-
ceive them; and the travellers became
seriously apprehensive that evil was
intended. It was a lonely place well
suited to deeds of robbery and blood.
N 0 help was at hand. The two friends
communicated to each other their sus-
picions, and resolved that on retiring to
their part of the hut, they would bar-
ricade the door against the entrance of
their host, that they would have their
weapons of defence at hand, that they
would alternate in watching, so that
one should be constantly on his guard
while his companion slept. Having
hastily made their arrangements, they
joined the family, partook of the
homely meal and spoke of retiring to
rest. The old man said it had been
his practice in better times and he con-
tinued it still, before his family retired,
to commend them to God, and if the
strangers had no objection he would do
so now. The Christian rejoiced to find
a brother in the wilderness, and even
the skeptic could not conceal his satis-
faction at the nroposition. The old
man then took down a well- worn Bible
on which no dust had gathered though
age had marked it, and read with em-
phasis a portion of the Sacred Scrip-
tures. He then supplicated the divine
protection, acknowledged the divine
goodness, and prayed for grace, guid-
ance, and salvation. He prayed too for
the strangers—-that they might be pros-
pered in their journey, and when their
earthly journey was done. they might
have a home in heaven. He was evi-
dently a man of prayer, and that hum-
ble cottage was a place where prayer
was wont to be made. The travellers
retired to their apartment; according
to their arrangement the skepic was to
have the first watch during the night;
but instead of priming his pistols and
bracing his nerves for an attack he was
for lying down to sleep as quietly as
if he had never thought of danger.
His friend reminded him of their en-
gagement, and asked where he had lost
his apprehension of danger. Ah; the
infidel felt the force of the question and
all it implied ; and had the frankness
399
217, 218
INFIDELITY
to confess that he could not but feel as
safe as at a New England fireside, in
any house or in any forest where the
Bible was read as the old man read it,
and prayer was offered as that old 1nan
prayed.
(12) THE SUIClDE’S MANU-
SCRIPT.—An avowed infidel, whose
language and conduct had been most
profane, and who had boldly argued for
man’s right to kill himself when he
found it expedient, swallowed a quan-
tity of opium which put an end to his
life. Among his papers was found one,
on which was written, “I have this
moment swallowed a vial of tincture of
opium, consequently my life will be
but short. VVhether there will be a
heaven or a hell, I leave parsons to
divine.” The part of the manuscript
which followed was blotted, and con-
cluded thus: “ My hand trembles, my
eyes grow dim, I can see to write no
more; but he that would be happy
should be religious.”
(0) MASON’S REPLY TO THE
SCOFFER.-—To a young infidel who
was scofling at Christianity because of
the misconduct of its professors, the
late Dr. Mason said, “Did you ever
know an uproar to be made because an
infidel went astray from the paths of
morality?” The infidel admitted that
he had not. “ Then don’t you see,”
said Dr. M., “that, by expecting the
professors of Christianity to be holy,
you admit it to be a holy religion, and
thus pay it the highest compliment in
your power?” The young man was
silent.
(d) BOLlNGBROKE’S TESTI-
MON Y.—-Lord Bolingbroke, a man of
giant intellect, of great political influ-
ence during his life, but an avowed in-
fidel, declares that “The doctrine of
rewards and punishments in a future
state, has so great a tendency to enforce
the civil laws and restrain the vices of
men, that though reason would decide
against it on the principles of theo-
logy, she will not decide against it on
the principles of good policy.” Again
he says; “No religion ever appeared
in the world, whose natural tendency
was so much directed to promote the
peace and happiness of mankind, as

-L
the Christian. The Gospel of Christ is
one continual lesson of the strictest
morality, of justice, benevolence, and
universa. charity. Supposing Christiam
ity to be a human invention, it is the
most amiable, and successful invention,
that ever was imposed on mankind for
their good.”
918. Shown by their Confessions in favor
of the Moral Character of Christ.
(a) LEGUINIA’S CONFESSION.
—“ He called himself the Son of God ;
who among mortals dare to say he was
not’.2 He always displayed virtue ; he
always spoke according to the dictates
of reason ; he always preached up wis-
dom; he sincerely loved all men, and
wished to do good even to his perse-
cutors; he developed all the principles
of moral equality and of the purest
patriotism ; he met danger undismayed;
he described the hard-heartedncss of
the rich; he attacked the pride of
kings; he dared to resist, even in the
face of tyrants; he despised glory and
fortune ; he was sober; he solaced the
indigent; he taught the unfortunate
how to suffer ; he sustained weakness ;
he fortified decay ; he consoled misfor-
tune ; he knew how to shed tears with
those that wept ; he taught men to sub-
jugate their passions, to think, to re-
flect, to love one another, and to live
happily together; he was hated by the
powerful, whom he oifended by his
teaching; and persecuted by the wick-
ed, whom he unmasked; and he died
under the indignation of the blind and
deceived multitude for whose good he
had always lived.”
If such was the testimony of the
French atheist Leguinia, surely the
true Christian is at no loss to enlarge
the admirable portraiture.
(Z2) CONFESSICN OF ROUS-
SEAU.——I will confess to you, says
Rousseau, in his Treatise on Educa-
tion, that the majesty of the Scriptures
strikes me with admiration, as the
purity ot the Gospel hath its influence
on my heart. Peruse the works of our
philosophers, with all their pomp of die-
tion, how mean, how contemptihle are
they compared with Scripture! Is it
400
CONFESSIONS IN FAVOR OF CHRIST.
-___-_.--.—__-_. ..-_
218
possible that a book, at once so sim-
ple and sublime, should be merely the
work of man’! Is it possible that the
sacred personage whose history it con-
tains should be himself a mere man’.Z
Do we find that he assumed the tone of
an enthusiast, or ambitious sectary?
What sweetness, what purity in his
manner! What an affecting graceful-
ness in his delivery! What sublimity
in his maxims! What profound wis-
dom in his discourses! What presence
of mind, what subtlety, what truth in
his replies! How great the command
of his passions! Where is the man,
where the philosopher, who could so
live, and so die, without weakness and
without ostentation’.2 When Plato de-
scribed his imaginary good man, loaded
with all the shame of guilt, yet merit-
ing the highest rewards of virtue, he
described exactly the character of
Jesus Christ; the resemblance was so
striking, that all the Fathers perceived it.
\Vhat prepossession, what blindness
must it be, to compare the son of Som-
broniscus to the son of Mary’.2 VVhat
an infinite disproportion there is be-
tween them! Socrates dying without
pain or ignominy easily supported his
character to the last; and if his death,
however easy, had not crowned his life,
it might have been doubted whether
Socrates, with all his wisdom, was any
thing more than a vain sophist. He in-
vented, it is said, the theory of morals.
Others, however, had before put them
in practice ; he had only to say, there-
fore, what they had done, and to reduce
their examples to precepts. Aristides
had been just before Socrates defined
justice; Leonidas had given up his life
for his country before Socrates declared
patriotism to be a duty; the Spartans
were a sober people before Socrates
recommended sobriety; before he had
even defined virtue, Greece abounded
in virtuous men. But where could
Jesus learn, among his competitors,
that pure and sublime morality, of
which he only hath given us both pre-
cept and example? The greatest wis-
dom was made known amongst the most
bigoted fanaticism, and the simplicity
of the most heroic virtues, did honor to
the vilest people on earth. The death

of Socrates peaceably philosophizing
with his friends, appears the most agree-
able that .could be wished for--that of
Jesus expiring in the midst of agoniz-
ing Pains, abused, insulted, and accused
by a whole nation, is the most horrible
that could be feared. Socrates, in re-
ceiving the cup of poison, blessed the
weeping executioner who administered
it, but Jesus, in the midst of excruciat-
ing torments prayed for nis merciless
tormentors.
Yes, if the life and death of So-
crates were those of a sage, the life
and death of Jesus were those of a
God. Shall we suppose the evangelic
history a mere fiction? Indeed, my
friend, it bears not the mark of fiction ;
on the contrary, the history of Socrates,
which nobody presumes to doubt, is not
so well attested as that of Jesus Christ.
Such a supposition in fact, only shifts
the difficulty without obviating it; it is
more inconceivable, that a number of
persons should agree to write such a
history, than that one only should fur-
nish the subject of it. The Jewish
authors were incapable of the diction,
and of the morality contained in the
Gospel, the marks of whose truth are
so striking and inimitable, that the in-
ventor would be a more astonishing
character than the hero.
(0) CONFESSION OF PAINE.-—
Paine, after scandalizing the account
of Christ’s‘supernatural birth in his
Age of Reason, uses the following lan-
uage:
“ Nothing that is here said can apply
even with the most distant disrespect to
the moral character of Jesus Christ. He
was a virtuous and amiable man. The
morality that he preached and practised
was of the most benevolent kind; and
though similar systems of morality had
been preached by Confucius and by
some of the Greek philosophers many
ages before; by the Quakers since;
and by many good men in all ages, it
has not been exceeded by any.”
Again, Paine says: “He (Christ)
called men to the practice of moral vir-
tues and the belief of one God. The
great trait in his character is philan-
thropy.”
Paine, in the first extract, would evi-
6
401
219
INFIDELITY.
dently put Christ on a level with such
ancient sages as Socrates and others.
The mistake he here commits is suffi-
ciently exposed in the foregoing con-
fession of the infidel Rousseau. If
Christ was a virtuous man, then he
practised no imposition when he pro-
fessed to work miracles; and if he
wrought miracles, then his doctrines,
which his miracles were wrought to
confirm, are all true.
Q19. Shown by Confessions of their Dis-
quielude and Misery.
(a) AFRAID THE BIBLE IS
TRUE.-—-The following melancholy
case is well authenticated :
Mr. S—, a well-known infidel, said
one day to Mr. N-—, who had also im-
bibed the same evil principles, “ There
is one thing which mars all the plea-
sures of my life.” “Ah,” said Mr.
N—, “ what is that ?” “Why,” re-
plied Mr. S—-, “I am afraid that the
Bible is true! If I could know for cer-
tain that death is an eternal sleep,I
should be happy-—my joy would be
complete ! But here is the thorn that
stings me. This is the sword that
pierces my very soul. If the Bible is
true,I am lost forever! Every pros-
pect is gone! and I am lost forever !”
Mr. S— was just entering on a voy-
age—sailed not long after—was ship-
wrecked, and lost! sinking probably
into the mighty deep, under all the hor-
rors of absolute despair. Alas! what a
dreadful tormentor is a guilty con-
science! and how ineffectual are all
the opiates of infidelity and licentious-
ness to assuage its anguish ; and if they
are so in the time of health and prosper-
ity, what must it be to bear affliction,
and to pass the final, solemn test, with-
out the hopes and consolations of the
gospel !
(Z2) WE DON’T TELL YOU ALL.
--One of the most sensible men I ever
knew, says one, but whose life as well
as creed had been rather eccentric, re-
turned me the following answer, not
many months before his death, when I
asked him “ whether his former irregu-
larities were not both accompanied at
the time, and succeeded afterwm by

some sense of mental pain.” " Yes,”
said he, “ but I have scarce ever owned
it until now. WVe” (meaning we infi-
dels and men of fashionable morals)
“ do not tell you all that passes in our
hearts!’’
(0) MR. HOBBES AND DEATH.
-—Mr. Hobbes, the celebrated infidel, in
bravado, would often say very unbe-
coming things of God and the Bible,
yet when alone he was haunted with
the most tormenting reflections, and
would awake in great terror if his can-
dle happened to go out in the night He
never could bear any discourse aoout
death, and seemed to cast off all
thoughts of it. Notwithstanding all his
high pretensions to learning at»[ philos-
ophy, his uneasiness constrained him to
confess, as he drew near the grave, that
“ he was about taking a leap in the
dark.”
(d) ATHEIST’S ACKN OWL.
EDGMENT.——The example of aper-
fect Atheist, says Dr. Spence, is very
rare, and has seldom been the object of
my own experience: one, however, I
knew, a jurist and statesman, Well
learned and of good parts; so well read
was he in the Scriptures and divinity in
general, that he might have passed for
no ordinary theologian. He had, though
a speculative unbeliever, maintained
several theses with great success; on
the other hand, he could, in his opinion,
account for every appearance in nature,
from a theory of matter and motion.
Still, says the relator, with all his belief
and unbelief, he frankly confessed to
me “ that he was unhappy.” And being
then in a state of celibacy, further ac-
knowledged that, “should he ever
change his situation, he was determined
never to suffer the secrets of his heart
to transpire to his wife and children,
that in all externals he would strictly
conform to the church,” adding as one
of his philosophical and political reasons,
“ that it was better to be comforted upon
a false ground, than to live without any
consolation.’ ’
(e) CONFESSION OF VOL.
TAIRE.-“Who,” says Voltaire, “can,
witho: rt horror, consider the whole worl:I
as the empire of destruction '2 It abounds
with wonders ; it also abounds with vic-
402

ADVICE TO FRIENDS AND TREATMENT OF THEM. 220
tims. It is a vast field of carnage and This, reader, is a fact. It was the
contagion. Every species is without united advice of a number af unbeliev-
pity pursued and torn to pieces through
the earth, and air, and water. In man
there is more wretchedness than in all
the other animals put together. He
loves life and yet he kl ows that he
must die. If he enjoys a transient
good, he sufibrs various evils, and is at
last devoured by worms. This know-
ledge is his fatal prerogative ; other an-
imals have it not. He spends the tran-
sient moments of his existence in diffus-
irig the miseries which he suffers: in
cutting the throats of his fellow crea-
tures for pay ; in cheating and being
cheated ; in robbing and being robbed ;
in serving that he might command ; and
in repenting of all he does. The bulk
of mankind are nothing more than a
crowd of wretches, equally criminal and
unfortunate; and the globe contains
rather carcasses than men. ltremble
at the review of this dreadful picture, to
find it contains a complaint against
Providence itself: and I wish I had nev-
er been born.”
2:20. Shown by their advice to their
Friends and treatment of them.
(a) THE INFIDEL’S ADVICE.——
A man who had been very much con-
nected with infidels, was taken danger-
ously ill; and feeling that he could not
recover, became alarmed for the safety
of his soul. His infidel principles gave
him no comfort. He began, for the first
time, to examine into the Christian reli-
gion. He embraced it, and found it to
be the power of God to his salvation, en-
abling him to triumph over the fear of
death. In the mean time, his infidel
friends hearing of his sickness, and that
he was not likely to recover, showed a
degree of feeling and integrity, which,
it was hoped, might prove the first step
towards their conversion. They were
not aware that their dying friend had
become a Christian. They called to
see him, and actually told him that they
came on purpose to advise him now to
embrace Christianity: “ Because,” said
they, “if it be false, if; can do you no
harm ; but if it should nova true, you
Wi ll be a great gainer. ’

ers to their dying friend.
(b) PAINE’S ADVICE TO A
TRAVELLER.—-A writer in the ‘Ves-
tern Observer, Bishop Mcllvaine, we
presume, says :
I have recently been in conversation
with a gentleman who personally knew
Tom Paine, from whom I haxe learned
some particulars, which it may be use-
ful to repeat. This gentleman states,
that when a young man he was driving
his father’s wagon from Sing Sing to a
place in VI/Testchester county, N. Y.,
when Paine, travelling the same way,
requested to be taken in. The young
man consenting, they rode about twenty
miles together. The fame and talk
about “ Paine’s Age of Reason,” had
made a skeptical impression on the mind
of the youth, and finding himself in the
presence of its author, he gladly availed
himself of the opportunity to learn more
of that sort of reason. In the course of
the conversation, Paine positively assert-
ed that he believed the Scriptures to be
the word of God, and most seriously
charged his auditor not to read his book,
or if he did, not to suffer it to have any
influence on his mind. He said it did
not contain the truth; that he deeply
regretted its publication, and would
have given any thing had he never writ-
ten it. Such was the serious earnest-
ness of Paine in these remarks, and so
conclusively did he reason against the
principles of his “Age of Reason,” that
he entirely removed all skeptical im-
pressions from the mind of the young
man, (the present informant,) so that the
latter has ever since retained a grateful
recollection of the conversation. and
now says, that such was Paine’s ear-
nestness to prevent his being injured by
his writings, and to eradicate all such
evil impressions as they had already
made, that he can never lose the re-
membrance of it.
(0) INFIDEL’S CHOICE OF EX-
ECUTOR.—-For the purpose of illus-
trating the secret respect which is en-
tertained by infidels for a pure and
consistent Christianity, we relate the fol-
lowing incidents, which have never ap.
peared in print. They may serve to
‘st
03
22]
INFIDELITY.
show that a testimony which under or-
dinary circumstances would be studi-
ously withheld, may, by the force of
circumstances, be extorted.
In one of the flourishing towns of a
distant state, resided two gentlemen of
high professional standing, but of infidel
principles. In habits of the closest in-
timacy they encouraged each other, not
only in a determined opposition to the
spread of religion, but in the most pro-
fane mockery of its doctrines, institu-
tions, and tendencies. A third individ-
ual in the town, likewise possessing in-
fluence, but of truly consistent Christian
character, was the principal object of
their profane jests. They pretended to
hold his religion in utter contempt, and
often made merry in ridiculing his su-
perstition and fanaticism. How sincere
and hearty they were in trusting their
own principles may be learned from the
sequel. In the course of time one of
them was attacked by fatal disease, and
died without any happy change in his
religious views. On opening his will it
was ascertained that he had intrusted
the settlement of his estate to the pious
man, and that his infidel friend was not
mentioned as an executor ! If an action
could speak, this spoke loudly of his
distrust of infidel principles, and of his
secret confidence in those of Christianity.
Qtl. Shown by thoir Conduct in Danger.
(a) WITHERSPOON AND THE
ATHEIST.—The Rev. Dr. Wither-
spoon, formerly president of Princeton
College, N. J ., was once on board a
packet ship, where, among otner pas-
sengers, was a professed atheist. This
unhappy man was very fond of troub-
ling every one with his peculiar belief,
and of breaching the subject as often as
he could get any one to listen to him.
He did not believe in a God and a
future state, not be! By and by there
came on a terrible storm, and the pros-
pect was that all would be drowned.
There was much consternation on
board, but not one was so greatly
frightened as the professed atheist In
this extremity, he sought out the .ler-
gyman, and found him in the cabin,
calm and collected, in the midst of dan-

ger, and thus addressed him: “ Oh,
doctor VVitherspoon! Doctor Wither
spoon ! we’re all going; we have but a
short time to stay. Oh, how the vessel
rocks ! we’re all going; don’t you think
we are, doctor?” The doctor turned
to him with a solemn look, and replied
in broad Scotch, “ Nae doubt, nae
doubt, man, we’re a’ ganging ; but you
and I dinna gang the same way.”
(b) VOLNEY IN A STORM.—-
Samuel Forester Bancroft, Esq., ac-
companied Mr. Isaac VVeld, jr., in his
travels through North America. As
they were sailing on Lake Erie, in a
vessel, on board of which was Volney,
celebrated, (or rather, notorious,) for
his atheistical principles. He Was very
communicative, allowed no opportunity
to escape of ridiculing Christianity, and
behaved altogether in a very profane
manner. In the course of the voyage,
a very heavy storm came on, insomuch
that the vessel, which had struck re-
peatedly with great force, was expected
to go down every instant. The masts
went overboard ; the rudder unshipped;
and, consequently, the whole scene ex-
hibited confusion and horror. There
were many female passengers and oth-
ers on board ; but no one exhibited such
strong marks of fearful despair as Vol-
ney—throwing himself on deck; new
imploring, then imprecating the captain,
and reminding him that,he had engaged
to carry him safe to his port of desti-
nation ; vainly threatening, in case any
thing should happen. One moment he
was quite frantic, and raged like a mad-
man; another, in wild consternation,
he looked into some of Voltaire’s works,
which he generally carried in his bo-
som; then despair took hold on him,
and he uttered the most incoherent ex-
pressions, and offered a large sum of
money to the captain, to prevail on him
to attempt what was utterly impossible,
namely, to put him ashore in asmall boat.
As the probability of their being lost
increased, this great mirror of nature,
human or inhuman, began loading the
pockets of his coat, waistcoat, breeches,
and every thing he could think of, with
dollars, to the amount of some hun-
dreds; and this, as he thought, was
preparing to swim for his life, should
404
CONDUCT IN DEATH.
,-a--_
221,222

the vessel go to pieces. Mr. Bancroft
remonstrated with him on the folly of
such acts, saying he would sink like a
piece of lead, with so great a weight on
him ; and at length as he became so very
noisy and unsteady as to impede the
management of the vessel, Mr. Ban-
croft pushed him down the hatchway.
Volney soon came up again, having
lightened himself of the dollars, and, in
the agony of his mind, threw himself on
deck, exclaiming, with uplifted hands
and streaming eyes, “ Oh, my God! my
God !—what shall I do--what shall I
do !”——This so surprised Bancroft, that
notwithstanding the moment did not
very well accord with flashes of humor,
yet he could not refrain from address-
ing him: “Well, Mr. Volney——what!
you have a God now Cl” To which
Volney replied, with the most trembling
anxiety, “O yes! O yes!” The vessel,
however, got safe, and Mr. Bancroft
made every company which he went
into, echo with this anecdote of Vol-
ney’s acknowledgment of God. Vol-
ney, for a considerable time, was so
hurt at his weakness, as he calls it,
that he was ashamed of showing him-
self in company at Philadelphia. But
afterwards he said that those words
escaped him in the instant of alarm,
but had no meaning.
Infidelity, then, will do only ashore,
in fine weather ; but it will not stand a
gale of wind for a few hours.
infidels and Atheists! how will you
weather an ETERNAL STORM ?
(0) THE INFIDEL AND HIS
BOX OF BOOKS.——Infidels are often
quite bold in calm weather, but at the
first approach of danger their courage
vanishes in a moment. During a gale
on Lake Erie, the steamer Robert Ful-
ton, among many other vessels, was
wrecked and lost. On board that beat,
as was related by a passenger, and
published in the Religious Herald, was
an infidel with a box of books to dis-
tribute at the VV est. He was loud and
clamorous in proclaiming his infidelity,
till the gale came on—-but then, like the
rest, he was silent, and waited with
trembling anxiety the uncertain fate of
the ship. At length they drew near
the shore, and attempted t: throw ou.

their anchors, when the whole forward
part of the boat broke off, and the
waves rushed into the cabin. At once
the infidel was on his knees crying for
mercy—his voice could be heard above
the raging elements, begging the Lord
to forgive his blasphemies, till a heavy
sea swept over the deck, and carried
him and his books to the bottom.
922. Shown by their Conduct in Death.
(a) VOLTAIRE’S LAST HOURS.
—In spite of all the infidel philosophers
who flocked around Voltaire in the first
days of his illness, he gave signs of
wishing to return to that God whom he
had so often blasphemed. II6 called
for the priest; his danger increasing,
he wrote entreating the Abbe Gaultier
to visit him. He afterwards made a
declaration, in which he, in fact, re-
nounced infidelity, signed by himself
and two witnesses. D’Alembert, Di-
derot, and about twenty others, who had
beset his apartment, he would often
curse, and exclaim, “Retire; it is you
that have brought me to my present
state. Begone ; I could have done
without you all, but you could not exist
without me ; and what a wretched glory
have you procured me !” They could
hear him, the prey of anguish and
dread, alternately supplicating and
blaspheming that God whom he had
conspired against; and in plaintive ac-
cents would he cry out, “Oh Christ!
Oh Jesus Christ!” and then complain
that he was abandoned of God and
man.
At one time he was discovered by
his attendant with a book of pray-
ers in his hand, endeavoring, with
a faltering tongue, to repeat some of
the petitions for mercy addressed to
that Being whose name he had blas-
phemed. He had fallen from his bed
in convulsive agonies, and lay foam-
ing with impotent despair on the
floor, exclaiming, “ Will not this God,
whom I have denied, save me too?
Cannot infinite mercy extend to me?”
His physician, Mr. Tronchin, calling
in to administer relief, thunderstruck,
retired, declaring the death of the im-
pious man to be terrible inched: the
405
222
IN FLJELITY.

Mareshal de Richelieu flies from the
bed-side, declaring it to be a sight too
terrible to be sustained: and Mr. Tron-
chin, tha. the furies of Orestes could
give but a faint idea of those of Vol-
taire. He said, “Doctor, I will give
you half of what I am worth if you wil
give me SIX months’ life;” the doctor
answered, “ Sir, you cannot live six
weeks.” Voltaire replied, “Then I
shall go to hell and you Will go with
me;” and soon after expired.—Such
were the horrors of mind in which this
arch-infidel quitted the world, that the
nurse who attended him, being many
years afterward requested to wait on a
sick Protestant gentleman, refused, till
she was assured he was not a philoso-
pher; declaring, if he were, she would
on no account incur the danger of wit-
nessing such a scene as she had been
compelled to witness at the death of M.
Voltaire. Bishop ‘Wilson, of Calcutta,
mentions that he received this account
from the son of the gentleman to whose
dying bed the woman was invited.
(b) “ MOURNING AT THE
LAST/’—A society of men, who may
properly be termed “haters of God,”
were in the habit of meeting together on
Sabbath mornings, to ridicule religion,
and to encourage each other in sin. At
length they agreed to burn the Bible!
They had lately initiated a young man
into their awful mysteries, who had
been brought up under great religious
advantages, but had misimproved them,
and now, throwing the holy book into
the flames, he declared he would never
go to a place of religious worship
again. He was soon afterwards taken
ill, and was visited by a pious man,
who found him in great mental agony.
In reference to his conduct, the young
man remarked, it all did well enough
while in health, and while he could
keep off the thoughts of death: but
when the Redeemer was mentioned to
him, he hastily exclaimed, “VI/‘hat’s
the use of talking to me about mercy? ”
When recommended to look to Christ,
he said, “I tell you it is of no use
now; ’tis too late, ’tis too late. Once
I could pray, but now I can’t.” He
frequently repeated, “I cannot pray, I
will non pray.” When two of his

j —-¢--_ --.
former companions in sin entered his
room, and attempted to rally him from
his despondency by some of their blus-
tering expressions, he raised himself on
his bed, and, with his hands lifted up.
invoked the curse of God upon them.
Others of the same party afterwards
came to see him ; but the sight of them
could then give him no pleasure. He
repeated, and that in a way which no
one could hear without shuddering, the
same dreadful impreeations. -
As death drew near, h \ lay as if in-
sensible to any thing that was said to
him, only rolling about on his bed, and
now and then saying, “ My Bible! oh
the Bible ! ” He then concealed his face
became violently convulsed, groaned
and expired.
How unspeakably awful to reject the
word of God ! “The wicked is driven
away in his wickedness ; but the right-
eous hath hope in his death.”
(0) GIBBON’S CONFESSlON.—-
The celebrated Gibbon just before his
death confessed that when he considered
all worldly things, they were all fleet-
ing ; when he looked back they had
been fleeting; when he looked forward
“ all was dark and doubtful.” Surely
no one can Wish to be an infidel for the
comfort of it.
(d) DEATH OF I-IUME’S MO-
TI-IER.—-Hume, the historian, received
a religious education from his mother,
and early in life was the subject of
strong and hopeful religious impres-
sions ; but, as he approached manhood.
they were etfaced, and confirmed infi-
delity succeeded.
Maternal partiality, however alarmed
at first, came at length to look with less
and less pain upon this declension, and
filial love and reverence seemed to have
been absorbed in the pride of philoso-
phical skepticism ; for Hume applied
himself with unwearied, and unhappily
with successful efforts, to sap the founda-
tion of his mother’s faith.
Having succeedei in this dreadful
work, and as he Was returning, an ex-
press met him in London, with a letter
from his mother, informing him that she
was in a deep decline, and could not
long survive; she said, she found her-
self without any support in her dis-
406
CONDUCT
IN Ll EATH. 229

b_ _—.——-n
tress; that he had taken away that
only source of comfort upon which, in
all cases of affliction, she used to rely,
and that she now found her mind sink-
ing into despair ; she did not doubt that
her son would afford her some substi-
tute for her religion ; and she conjured
him to hasten to her, or at least to send
her a letter, containing such consola-
tions as philosophy could afford to a
dying mortal.
Hume was overwhelmed with an-
guish on receiving this letter, and
hastened to Scotland, travelling day
and night; but before he arrived his
mother expired.
No permanent impression seems,
however, to have been made on his
mind by this trying event; and what-
ever remorse he might have felt at the
moment, he soon relapsed into his pre-
vious hardness of heart. Thus it is
that false philosophy restores the sting
to death, and gives again the victory to
the grave.
(0) END OF NOTED FRENCH
IN F lDELS.—The following affecting
account of the death of several of the
leading infidels in France, at the pe-
riod of the revolution, is extracted from
Sir VValter Scott’s “Life of Buona-
parte,” and strikingly shows that deism
can afford no help in the hour of trial :
None of all the victims of the reign
of terror felt its disabling influence so
completely as the despot Robespierre,
who had so long directed its sway.
The Hotel de Ville, where he and his
companions had assembled, was sur-
rounded by about 1500 men, and can-
non turned upon the doors. The de-
serted group of theorists within con-
ducted themselves like scorpions, which,
when surrounded by fire, are said to
turn their stings on each other, and on
hemselves. Mutual and ferocious up-
braiding took place among these miser-
able men. “ Wretehl were these the
means you promised to furnish '2 ” said
Payan to I-Ienriot, whom he found in-
toxicated, and incapable of resolution
or exertion, and seizing on him as he
spoke, he precipitated the revolutionary
general from a window. I-Ienriot sur-
vived the fall only to drag himself into
a drain, in which he was afterwards

—-
discovered, and brought out to execu-
tion. The younger Robespierre threw
himself from the window, but did not
perish on the spot. Las Basas dis-
patched himself with a pistol-shot. St.
Just, after imploring his comrades to
kill him, attempted his own life with an
irresolute hand, and failed. Couthon
lav beneath the table brandishing a
knife, with which he repeatedly wounded
his bosom, without daring to add force
enough to reach his heart. Robes-
pierre, in an unsuccessful attempt to
shoot himself, had only inflicted a horri-
ble fracture on his under jaw.
In this situation they were found, like
wolves in their lair, foul with blood,
mutilated, despairing, and yet not able
to die. Robespierre lay on a table in
an ante-room, his head supported by a
deal box, and his hideous countenance
half hidden by a dirty cloth bound
round the shattered chin.
The captives were carried in triumph
to the convention, who, without admit-
ting them to the bar, ordered them, as
outlaws, for instant execution. As the
fatal cars passed to the guillotine, those
who filled them, but especially Robes-
pierre, were overwhelmed with execra-
tions, from the friends and relatives of
victims whom he had sent on the same
melancholy road.
The nature of his previous wound,
from which the cloth had never been
removed, till the executioner tore it off,
added to the torture of the sufferer.
The shattered jaw dropped, and the
wretch yelled aloud, to the horror of
the spectators. A masque, taken from
that dreadful head, was long exhibited
in different nations of Europe, and ap-
palled the spectators by its ugliness,
and the mixture of fiendish expression
with that of bodily agony.
(f) LAST DAYS OF THOMAS
PAIN E,——Paine was nursed in his last
illness by a Mrs. Hedden. a very worthy
and pious woman, who did her best to
serve him not only as a kind attendant,
but also as a spiritual counsellor. Du-
ring the first three or four days, his
conduct was tolerable, except that he
grew outrageous whenever Madame
Bonneville entered the room. About the
fifth day his language to Mrs. Hedden
407
222
INFIDELITY.
>--__

‘_ -r__
Was so bad, that she resolved in “ne-
diately to quit the house, but sensible
how necessary she was to his comfort,
he made concessions which induced her
to remain. Though his cemversaticn
was equivocal, his conduct was singular,
he would not be left alone night or day ;
he not only required to have some per-
son with him, but he must see that he
or she was there, and would not allow
his curtain to be closed at any time;
and if, as it would sometimes unavoida-
bly happen, he was left alone, he would
scream and cry aloud, until some per-
son came to him. There was some-
thing remarkable in his conduct about
this period, (which comprises nearly two
weeks immediately preceding his death,)
particularly when we reflect that Tho-
mas Paine was author of the Age of
Reason. He would call out during his
paroxysms of distress, without intermis-
sion, “ O Lord help me, God help me,
Jesus Christ help me, O Lord help me,”
&c., repeating the same expressions with-
out the least variation, in a tone of voice
that would alarm the house. On the
6th of June, Dr. Manly, struck by these
expressions, which he so frequently re-
peated, and seeing that he was in great
distress of mind, put the following ques-
tions to him : “ Mr. Paine, what must we
think of your present conduct? Why
do you call upon Jesus Christ to help
you ’.l Do you believe that he can help
you’.2 Do you believe in the divinity
of Jesus Christ '2” After a pause of some
minutes he answered, “I have no wish
to believe on that subject.”
A gentleman of the neighborhood
occasionally furnished him with refresh-
ments from his own table, of which a
respectable female of the family was
the bearer. She being asked by Paine
her opinion respecting the Age of Rea-
son, frankly told him that she thought it
the most dangerous book she had ever
seen ; that the more she read the more
she found her mind estranged from all
good ; and that from a conviction of its
evil tendency, she had burnt it without
knowing to whom it belonged. To this
Paine rephed, that he wished aZZ its
readers had been as wise as she ; and
added, “ If ever the devil had an agent
in earth. I have been one.” Mrs. Bon-

neville, the unhappy female who had
accompanied him from France, lament-
ed to his neighbor her sad case, observ-
ing, “ For this man I have given up
my family and friends, my property and
my religion ; judge then of my distress,
when he tells me that the principles he
has taught me will not hear me out.”
(g) THE ELDER’S VISIT TO
PAINE.—The following facts, saysa
correspondent of the “New York Ob-
server,” in 183-, were lately told me by
an elder in one of the Presbyterian
churches of this city, who visited Paine
a few days before his death.
Approaching his bed, my informant
saw a loathsome and pitiable object.
His face and particularly his nose was
greatly swollen and changed by liquor
to a iark color. The visitor said to
him, “Mr. Paine, he that believeth on
the Lord Jesus Christ shall he saved,
but he that helieveth not shall be damned.”
“ What’s that you say!” said the dying
man. The visitor repeated the gospel
declaration. Paine immediately seized
a large black stick, that was lying at his
side, nearly the thickness of a man’s
wrist, and raising it over the head of the
visitor, said, with great anger and vehe-
emnce, “ Away with your popish non-
sense.” The very name of Jesus Christ
convulsed him with anger. The woman
attending him informed the visitor, that
he was occasionally visited by persons
of like principles and habits with himself,
and that his orders were to keep out of
his room all who professed any respect
for religion. She said that he was a
wretched man. That when alone he
kept groaning day and night, as if in
great distress of mind. She once told
him that his groans disturbed her that
she could not rest, when he replied, “ 1
have no rest mysef, nor shall you have.”
(It) PAINE’S CONFESSION TO
RAND ALL. —The Rev. .Iede<iah
Randall, a most upright and excel-ent
minister of the gospel, formerly of N or-
wich, Chenango co., N. Y., paid a visit
to Thomas Paine on his death-bed,
Though Paine was much of the time
under the influence of spirituous liquors,
and the mere mention of religion would
seem to reuse all his vindictive passions
against the one who addressed him
408
MISCELLANEOUS.
223
yet it must be said in his praise, that
in this case he seemed to be sober, and
listened in a calm and respectful man-
ner to what the minister of Christ had
to say. The reply of Mr. Paine was
dispassionate, and contained an honest
confession, such as a troubled conscience,
it seemed, would no longer allow his
proud heart to withhold. His words
were to this effect :
“ Mr. Randall, I never confidently
disbelieved in the Christian religion;
my unbelief and skepticism were
rather assumed than real. And one
object of my writing the Age of Reason,
was to cripple the power of the corrupt
and tyrannical priesthood of the Romish
church in France. Should I ever re-
cover from this illness it is my intention
to publish another book, disavowing the
infidel doctrines contained in the Age of
Reason, and expressing my convictions
of the truth of the Christian system.”
W3. Miscellaneous.
(a) DEISTICAL HISTORIANS.
--Gibbon, who, in his celebrated “ His-
tory of the Decline and Fall of the Re-
man Empire,” has left a memorial of
his emnity to the gospel, resided many
years in Switzerland, where, with the
profits of his works, he purchased a
considerable estate. This property has
descended to a gentleman, who, out of
his rents, expends a large sum annually
in the promulgation of that very gospel
which his predecessor insidiously en-
deavored to undermine.‘
Voltaire boasted that with one hand
he would overthrow that edifice of
Christianity which required the hands
of twelve apostles to build up. The
press which he employed at Ferney, for
printing his blasphemies, was afterwards
actually employed at Geneva in printing
the Holy Scriptures: thus the very
engine which he set to work to destroy
the credit of the Bible, was employed
in disseminating its truths.
It is a remarkable circumstance also,
that the first meeting of an Auxiliary
Bible Society at Edinburgh, was held
in the very room in which David Hume,
the infidel, died.

-h—-I-‘—-_-——
(b) INFIDEL PROPIIECIES.~
Voltaire said “he was living in the
twilight of Christianity ;” so he was;
but it was the twilight of the morning.
Tom Paine, on his return from
France, sitting in the City Hotel in Broad-
way, surrounded by many of our lead-
ing men, who came to do him homage,
predicted that “in five years there would
not be a Bible in America.” ‘What
would his spirit feel could it now enter
the depositories of the American Bible
Society ?
(0) INFIDELS GOING MASKED.
—-At an infidel convention, held ‘*1 New
York, John A Collins, one of the. prin-
cipal speakers, discoursed at length
upon the best means of supporting infi-
delity. After a series of railings
against God and the Bible, and every
thing sacred, he used this language ; “ I
never deliver lectures on infidelity ; but
I am constantly lecturing on the various
reforms of the age. I lecture on tem-
perance, on anti-slavery, on peace, on
moral reform, on socialism, &.c., &c.,
but wherever I go I lecture on infidel
priotciplcs .' Thus our cause is promoted
continually.”
{(1) LAST DAYS OF THE GOD-
DHSS OF REASON.—-In the Paris
papers of August 1, 1817, we find
among the obituaries the following an-
nouncement :—-“ Died, within these few
days, in the hospital of pauper lunatics
of Saltpetriere, where she had lived
unpitied and unknown for many years,
the famous Theroigne de Merieourt,
(the Goddess of Reason,) the most re-
markable of the heroines of the Revo-
lution.” This female (nearly in a state
of nudity) was seated on a throne by
Fouche and Carnot, in the Champ de
Mars, and hailed alternately as the
Goddess of Reason and Liberty. There
was something remarkable in the his-
tory of the latter days of this poor crea-
ture, and her life is not without its
moral. She who was taught publicly
to blaspheme her Creator, and dishonor
her sex, was, for the last twenty years
of her miserable life, subject to the
greatest of human calamities-—-the de-
privation of her reason. She repented
severely of her horrible crimes, and
her few lucid intervals were filled up
409
223- 224
INFLUENCE AF'1 ER DEATH.

by the most heart-rending lamentations.
She died at the age of fifty-seven.
(6) A CONVERTED ATHEIST.
——The author of “Philosophy of the
Plan of Salvation” gives an account
of a man of his acquaintance, who had
been a notorious and profane atheist.
By the persuasion of pious relatives,
who had long prayed for his conversion,
he was induced to attend a series of re-
ligious meetings, where he was brought
to see his condition as a sinner, and to
exercise saving faith in the Lord Jesus
Christ. “ Old things” having now
“passed away, and all things become
new,” the change was so strikingly
great, that it was obvious to all who
knew him. He immediately sought
reconciliation with his enemies, asked
their forgiveness, and tried to benefit
them by leading them to Christ. He
began to visit from house to house, la-

boring and praying with his neighbors,
and inviting them to attend religious
worship on the Sabbath. “ When con-
verted, one of his first acts, although he
had heard nothing of any such act in
others, was to make out a list of all his
old associates then living within reacn
of his influence. For the com ers1on
of these he determined to labor M1 he
had opportunity, and pray daily. On
his list were one hundred and sixteen
names, among whom were skeptics,
drunkards, and other individuals as lit-
tle likely to be reached by Christian
influence as any other men in the re
gion. Within two years from the pe-
riod of the old man’s conversion, one
hundred of these individuals had made
a profession of religion. This accoun
is not exaggerated: the old man is liv-
ing, and there are a thousand living
witnesses to this testimony.”
INFLUENCE AFTER DEATH.
QM. Inilnonoo Bonofioial.
(a) SERMON EFFECTUAL AF-
TER EIGHTY-FIVE YEARS.-—
About the middle of the seventeenth
century, the venerable John Flavel,
whose excellent practical writings are
known to many of our readers, was
settled at Dartmouth, where his labors
were greatly blessed.
Mr. F lavel’s manner was remarka-
bly affectionate and serious, often ex-
citing very powerful emotions in his
hearers. On one occasion, he preached
from these words :——“ If any man love
not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be
anathema, maranatha.” The discourse
was unusually solemn, particularly the
explanation of the words anathema, ma-
ranatha,—-—“ cursed with a curse, cursed
of God, with a bitter and grievous
curse.” At the conclusion of the ser-
vice, when Mr. Flavel arose to pro-
nounce the benediction, he paused, and
said, “ How shall I bless this whole
assembly, when every person in it, who
loveth not the Lord Jesus Christ, is
anathema, rnaranatha’? ” The solem-
nity of this address deeply affected the

audience, and one gentleman, a person
of rank, was so overcome by his feel-
ings, that he fell senseless to the floor.
In the congregation was a lad named
Luke Short, then about fifteen years
old, and a native of Dartmouth. Shortly
after the event just narrated, he entered
into the seafaring line, and sailed to
America, where he passed the rest of
his life.
Mr. Short’s life was lengthened much
beyond the usual term. When a hun-
dred years old, he had sufficient strength
to work on his farm, and his mental
faculties were very little impaired.
Hitherto he had lived in carelessness
and sin; he was now a “ sinner a hun-
dred years old,” and apparently ready
to “die accursed.” But one day, as
he sat n his field, he busied himself in
reflect.i‘1g on his past life. Recurring
to the events of his youth, his memory
fixed upon Mr. Flavel’s discourse abo.e
alluded to, a considerable part of which
he was able to recollect. The affec-
tionate earnestness of the preacher’s
manner, the important truths which he
delivered, and the effects produced on
the congregation, W618 brought fresh to
410
IN F LUENCE BENEFICIAL.
224
_~\-
his mmd. The blessing of God ac-
companied his meditations: he felt that
he had not “loved the Lord Jesus
Christ;” he feared the dreadful “ ana-
thema ;” conviction was fbllowed by
repentance, and at length this aged sin-
ner obtained peace through the blood of
atonement, and was found “ in the way
of righteousness.’ ’ He joined the Congre-
gat1onal church in Middleborough, and
to the day of his death, which took
place in his 116th year, gave pleasing
evidence of piety.
In this case, eighty-five years passed
away after the seed was sown, before it
sprang up and brought forth fruit. Let
the ministers of Christ be encouraged ;
“ in due season they shall reap, if they
faint not.”
(b) OBSCURE \VOMAN’S USE-
F ULNESS.—-There was once an ob-
scure and pious woman living in a city
in the South of England. History is
silent respecting her ancestry—hcr
place of birth—-or her education. She
had an only son, whom in his infancy
she made it her great business to in-
struct, and train up in the nurture and
admonition of the Lord. At seven years
of age his mother died, and a few years
after he went to sea, and became at
length a common sailor in the African
slave trade. He soon became a great
adept in vice——a swearer most horribly
profane; and though younger than
many of his companions in years he
was one of the oldest in guilt. But he
could not shake off the remembrance
of his pious mother’s instructions.—-
Though dead and in her grave she
seemed speaking to him still. After
many alarms of conscience and many
pungent convictions he became a Chris-
tian, and subsequently one of the most
successful ministers of the gospel Great
Britain ever produced. Of course
through the labors of the converted
son, we may now trace the influence
of the pious muther. In addition to his
great ministerial labors, he wrote many
evangelical works, and few authors
have done more to extend the power of
religion. He was highly eloquent. and
greatly useful in religious conversation ;
and his hymns, whose use in Divine
worship is almost commensurate with

l—_-
the extension of the English language,
are of the most elevated and evangel
ical character. Follow that mother’s
influence farther. Her son was the
means of the conversion of Claudius
Buchanan, who subsequently became a
minister of the gospel, and went to the
East Indies. Here he occupied a re-
sponsible station ; and his labors in be-
half of the English population, and for
the improvement of the moral and spir-
itual condition of the natives, are de-
servedly ranked among the noblest
achievements of Christian philanthropy.
His little work entitled “ The Star in
the East,” was the first thing that at-
tracted the attention of Adoniram Jud-
son to a mission in the East Indies.
Hence, had it not been for that mother’s
faithfulness her son might never have
been converted, Dr. Buchanan never
been converted, nor that train of causes
put in operation which are now shed-
ding such a flood of light on Burmah
and the surrounding regions.
The converted sailor was also the
means of the conversion of Thomas
Scott, from the dark mazes of Socinian-
ism to the belief, practice and preach-
ing of evangelical truth. He was a
very successful preacher for a good
portion of his long life in the metropolis
of England,——engaged with vigor and
zeal in every enterprise that he thought
conducive to the moral welfare and sal-
vation of man. He was, too, the author
of a very valuable commentary on the
Bible, almost unequalled in its prac-
tical tendency and the extent of its cir-
culation. To that pious mother’s influ-
ence, operating through the efforts of
her son, all this is easily traced. Be-
sides, to the connection of hei son with
the poet Cowper, the evangehcal cha-
racter and great religious influence of
Cowper’s poetry are doubtless to be
mainly attributed. It was by -the heav-
enly counsels and prayers and letters
of his clerical friend, that the poet’s
piety was deepened, and the gloom of
his mind dispersed. Again, to this
same minister’s influence, in connection
with that of Doddridge, the conversion
of WVilberforce is traced by same. For
during fourteen years after he first saw
VV., and until his conversion, he made
411
224
IN FLUENGE AFTER DEATH.

(I-\
W. the constant subject of his prayers.
And with what lorious results was the
conversion of \ ilberforce fraught to
the interests of man! What vast con-
tributions did he n ake with his princely
fortune to objects of benevolence ! To
his influence, in a great degree, may
we impute the abolition of the African
Slave Trale, and, in subsequent years,
the emancipation of slaves in the Bri-
tish West Indies; for the former step
prepared England for taking the latter.
In addition to this, I/Vilberforce was the
author of “ A Practical View of Chris-
tianity,” which did much to commend
spiritual religion to the higher classes
of his countrymen, and which, since
his death, has been widely circulated
and widely useful. This book was the
means of ‘re conversion of Leigh Rich-
mond, the author of the “Dairyman’s
Daughter,” which has been the means
of the conversion of thousands !—-Such
are some of the stupendous and glorious
results of one holy woman’s efforts
to educate her son for God—a wide
and mighty posthumous influence which
an angel might feel honored to exert.
Who was she’.2 THE Mornaa or THE
REV. JOHN Nswron.
(c) INFLUENCE OF MR. COBB’S
EXAMPLE.-—-A correspondent of a
Methodist paper, published at Rich-
mond, Va., encloses five hundred dol-
lars for missions, and says, “ About ten
years ago I began the world with what
I saved from my wages for attending a
store; and about the same time I read
in the Christian Advocate an account
of certain resolutions of a Mr. Cobb, a
member of the Baptist church in Bos-
ton, and I concluded, by the grace of
God, not only to follow his plan, but
also the example and advice of Mr.
Wesley, “ to make all you can, save
all you can, and give all you can.”
How powerful is the influence of ex-
ample! Let every Christian remem-
ber that when he lays down a correct
principle of action, and carries it into
practice, he is influencing others, and
he knows not how many, to do the same.
((7) THE SICK MAN’S PRAY-
ERS.—A pious man in the western
oart of New York was sick with a con-
2umptio*n He was a poor man, and

sick for years. An unconverted mer.
chant in the place had a kind heart,
and used to send him, now and then,
some things for his comfort, or for his
family. He felt grateful for the kind-
ness, but could make no return, as he
wanted to do. At length he deter-
mined that the best return he could
make would be to pray for his salva-
tion; he began to pray, and his soul
kindled and he got hold of God. There
was no revival of religion there, but by
and by, to the astonishment of every
body, this man came right out on the
Lord’s side. The fire kindled all over
the place, and a powerful revival fol-
lowed, and multitudes were converted.
This poor man lingered in this way
for several years, and died. After his
death, Ivisited the place, and his widow
put into my hands his diary. \mong
other things, he says in his diary, “I
am acquainted with about thirty min-
isters and churches.” He then goes
on to set apart certain hours in the day
and week to pray for each of these
ministers and churches, and also cer-
tain seasons for praying for the differ-
ent missionary stations. Then followed,
under different dates, such facts as
these: “ To-day,” naming the date, “I
have been enabled to offer what I call
the prayer of faith, for the outpouring
of the Spirit on church, and Itrust
in God there will soon be a revival
there.” Under another date, “I have
to-day been able to offer what I call the
prayer of faith, for such a church, and
trust there will soon be a revival there.”
Thus he had gone over a great number
of churches, recording the fact that
he had prayed for them in faith that a
revival might soon prevail among them.
Not long after noticing these facts in
his diary, the revival commenced, and
went over the region of the country,
nearly, I believe, if not quite, in the
order in which the different places had
been mentioned in his diary.
(e) INFLUENCE OF DAVIES.-
The fruits of this devoted minister of
Christ were not ephemeral-—thoy did
not end in excitement. He went to his
rest long since. But the fruits of his
ministry still remain, in the consistent
piety of those who were reared '.1nde1

41 2
INFLUENCE IN I URIOUS.
225
-0
the influence of parents brought into
the church by his labors. A gentle-
man in Tennessee says: “The fruits
of the great revival in Hanover under
the preaching of Samuel Davies, are
now spreading and growing in the Val-
ley of the Missisippi. There are many
of the children and children's children
of those persons, who professed religion
in Hanover, under the ministry of
that eminent man of God, now scat-
tered in this great valley; and I know
of no instance where they go, but an
altar is reared for the worship of God
in their families and neighborhoods.”
This is a kind of greatness—-—an im-
mortality on earth—which a good man
might covet, as he is permitted earn-
estly to covet “ the best gifts.”
9%. Influence Injunous.
(a) THE VILLAGE CURSED.—-
There is a beautiful village in New
England from which WVhitefield was
driven with such rancorous abuse, that
he shook off the dust of his feet and pro-
claimed that the Spirit of God would not
visit that spot, till the last of those per-
secutors was dead. The good man’s
language had a fearful truth in it, though
he was not divinely gifted with the
prophet’s inspiration. A consciousness
of desertion paralyzed the energies of
that church: for nearly a century it
was nurtured on the unwholesome food
of a strange doctrine ; in the very gar-
den of natural loveliness it sat like a
heath in the desert, upon which there
could be no rain, and not till that whole
generation had passed from the earth
did Zion appear there in her beauty and
strength.
(6) HYPOCRITICAL DEFENCE
OF PROTESTANTlSM.—An affect-
ing account is found among the oral tra-
ditions of Lucerne, one of the Catholic
cantons of Switzerland. In the days of
Luther and Calvin almost half the can-
t:ns turned Protestant. The magis-
trates of Lucerne were about deciding
in favor of the Reformers, when a cun-
ning and plausible priest, under the
guise of a Protestant exile from one of
the German states, obtained an inter-
view with the principal magistrates

_ P.
friendly to the new religion ; and under
the pretence of defending Protestantism,
so caricatured it in its most vulnerable
points, as to prejudice the magistrates
against it, and secure their adhesion to
the Pope with the banishment of all the
Protestant preachers from its territory.
Lucerne, with its 150,000 inhabitan-s,
has continued Roman Catholic for .110
last three centuries, while many of the
neighboring states are wholly Protest-
ant, and enjoy vastly superior privileges,
both civil and religious.
(c) APOSTACY OF BRICCONET.
When those who stand in a commanding
position, at a time when society is agi-
tated by a great moral struggle, fail to
do and suffer what duty requires, their
influence, even after death, is often sig-
nally mischievous. A noted and perti-
nent example is that of Bricconet, bish-
op of Meaux in France, in the sixteenth
century. Catching the spirit of reform
at that time pervading Germany and
Switzerland, he zealously opposed some
grosser errors and views of the Romish
church. Having been twice ambassa-
dor to Rome—-a bishop——a noble——an
intimate friend of the reigning and pre-
cedmg monarch, he was looked upon as
one of the great pillars of the Reforma-
tion. A change of government comes,
the inquisition is set up, and Bricconet
becomes the first object of their ven-
geance. “ The poor bishop,” says
D’Aubigner “ who had been so sanguine
in the hope to see the Reformation grad-
ually and silently winning its way in
men’s minds, trembled in dismay when
he found at the eleventh hour that it
must be purchased by life itself. No
alternatives were presented him but
death or recantation; and to the latter
the minions of the pope urged him by
the most plausible pretexts. They pre-
tended they too were anxious for a re-
formation, that all was going on by in-
sensible steps, that many would be won
over by his conceding and yielding a
little, who would be stumbled by his
warm and open opposition to the church.
Bricconet heard, considered, his resolu-
tion was shaken——he staggered under
the cross—-he stumbled——he fell l The
day of his recantation was a dark day
for France. The great conflict then
413
225
INFLUENCE AFTER DEATH.

Waging in that country between truth
and error, was sadly affected by the
Bishop’s fall. “ What his enemies rep-
resented as the saving of his country,”
says the historian, was perhaps the
worst of its misfortunes. What might
not have been the consequence if Bric-
conet nad possessed the courage of Lu-
ther’? If one of the most eminent of
the French bishops had ascended the
scaffold, and there, like the poor of this
world, sealed by martyrdom the truth
of the gospel, would not France herself
have been put upon reflection ’.Z Would
not the blood of the bishop of Meaux
have served, like the blood of Polycarp
and Cyprian, as the seed of the church ?
And should we not have seen these
provinces emancipating themselves in
the sixteenth century from the darkness
in which they are still enveloped '? The
mournful fall of Bricconet was felt as a
shock to the hearts of his former friends,
and was the sad forerunner of these de-
plorable apostacies to which the friend-
ship of the world so often led in another
age of French history.”
((1) PAINE’S “ AGE OF REA-
SON.’ ’—Though the author of the
“ Age of Reason” deplored before his
death that he had published it, and ad-
vised others not to read it, and though
its sophistry has been often refuted,that
book still exists and perpetuates its au-
thor’s unholy influence. A noted infidel
in New York, once asserted to the edit-
or, that he knew of many who had been
made “ freethinkers” by reading it.
And every year, no doubt, the number
it ruins is legion. It has been translat-
ed into some of the languages of India ;
and the Missionaries to those pagan na-
tions find the “ Age of Reason” one of
the most formidable obstacles to the con-
version of the more intelligent classes.
Thus, though Paine has been dead for
years, his book goes through edition af-
ter edition, passes from language to lan-
guage, misleading men’s minds, and
corrupting their hearts.
(6) INFLUENCE OF HOMER’S
ILIAD.—A most pernicious influence
is exerted b these writers who array
in false and, glowing colors the wick-
ed actions of real or imaginary persons.
It was the perusal of Homer’s Ilia ,
which celebrates in such moving strains
the deeds of bloody and brutal heroes,
that helped to make Alexander the
wholesale robber and murder er of man-
kind. Alexander had a perfect passion
for Homer. He used to say that Ho-
mer’s works were the most perfect pro-
duction of the human mind and the best
medicine of the warrior. He always
carried with him Aristotle’s editnn of
Homer. He kept it in a golden casket
enriched with jewels, and laid it every
night, with his sword, under his pillow.
Again, reading the Life of Alexander
was the means, in part, of making two
other bloody heroes, scarce less noted
than himself. One was Caesar, whose
highest ambition, we are told, was to
walk in the steps of Alexander. An-
other was Charles XII of Sweden, who
longed from his earliest years to imitate
the Macedonian conqueror, and who,
like him, converted firmness into obsti-
nacy, courage into rashncss, and sever-
ity into cruelty. Caesar, again, was the
ideal of human greatness that fanned the
fire of martial zeal in the bosom of the
Turkish Emperor Selymus, who, after
defeating and poisoning his father, car-
ried his merciless victories over Egypt
and Persia. The highest ambition of
Selymus was to imitate Cmsar. These
four great conquerors convulsed the
world with their crimes, and as they
strode on to fame and power, they
crushed millions of human hearts in the
giant footsteps of their ambition. And
how pernicious has been their influence
on the world, since their day up to the
present time, who can tell '2 Such have
been some of the ruinous results, wha‘
ever the good results may be) of Ho-
mer’s writings on mankind since his
death; results whith the infinite mind
can best compute.
414
IN GRATITUDE.
296
---_-~ -— _ -__--_-¢~_--_. --
226. INGRATITUDE.
(a) THE YVIDOW AND HER
TWL SONS.—-In Birmir gham, Eng-
-and, once lived a family in humble
circumstances. Some of the younger
children and their father died, leaving
the aged mother with two sons grown
up, and able to assist her. This how-
ever they refused to do, and she was
obliged to apply to the parish for relief;
and for some years two shillings a week
were allowed her by the overseers,
which, with asmall sum added by some
Christian friends, was all on which she
had to subsist.
‘During this time her youngest son
died. He had lived without the fear of
God, and died under a sense of his
wrath, in deep agonies, both of body
and mind, and uttering dreadful expres-
sions.
The eldest son was clever in his bu-
siness, got forward in the world, and
became possessed of considerable prop-
erty. But he still refused to assist his
mother, and even while holding offices
of consideration and importance, left her
to subsist on her allowance from the
parish. This conduct of course was
noticed; he was repeatedly spoken to
upon the subject ; and at length he or-
dered her name to be taken from the
parish books, and allowed her the two
shillings a week out of his own pocket,
at a time when he possessed thousands
of pounds, and was without a family.
One day some friends were assem-
bled, and her case being mentioned,
they proposed to remonstrate with the
ungrateful son. “No,” said an aged
minister, “ let him alone; if he dies
possessed of the property he is now
worth, I shall be deceived. God will
never suffer such base ingratitude to
prosper. ’ ’
In a short time afterwards, the moth-
er was removed to another world.
Tne circumstances of the son at length
began to change; repeated losses en-
sued and finally he became a bank-
rupt and was reduced to abject pov-
erty.

Sons and daughters, do not forget this
lesson.
(h) MACEDO AND HIS PRE-
SERVER.--Basilius Macedo, the em-
peror, exercising himself in hunting, a
sport he took great delight in, a great
stag, running furiously against him, fas-
tened one of the branches of his horns
in the emperor’s gndle, and, pulling
him from his horse, dragged him a good
distance, to the imminent danger of his
life; which a gentleman of his retinue
perceiving, drew his sword and cut the
emperor’s girdle asunder, which disen-
gaged him from the beast, with little or
no hurt to his person. But observe
what reward he had for his pains :
“ He was sentenced to lose his head for
putting his sword so near the body of
the emperor,” and suffered death ac-
cording! . ,
(0) THE UN GRATEFUL GUEST.
-—A certain soldier in the Macedonian
army had in many instances distin-
guished himself by extraordinary marks
of valor, and had received many marks
of Philip’s favor and approbation. On
some occasion he embarked on board a
vessel, which was wrecked by a violent
storm, and he himself cast on the shore
helpless and naked, and scarcely with
the appearance of life. A Macedonian,
whose lands were contiguous to the sea,
came opportunely to be witness of his
distress; and, with all humane and
charitable tenderness, flew to the relief
of the unhappy stranger. He bore him
to his house, laid him in his own bed,
revived, cherished, comforted, and for
forty days supplied him freely with all
the necessaries and conveniences which
his languishing condition could requhe.
The soldier, thus happily rescued from
death, was incessant in the warmest ex-
pressions of gratitude to his benefactor,
assured him of his interest with the
king, and of his power and resolution
of obtaining for him, from the royal
bounty, the noble returns which such
extraordinary benevolence had merited.
He was now conpletely recovered, and
4] 5
226, 227
INSTRUMENTALITIES. FEEBLE.

--\
his kind host supplied him with money
to pursue his journey. In some time
after he presented himself before the
king; he recounted his misfortunes,
magnified his services; and this in-
human wretch, who had looked with
an eye of envy on the possessions
of the man who had preserved his
life, was now so abandoned to all
sense of gratitude as to request that
the king would bestow upon him the
house and lands where he had been
so tenderly and kindly entertained.
Unhappily, Philip, without examination,
inconsiderately and precipitately granted
his infamous request; and this soldier,
now returned to his preserver, repaid
his goodness by driving him from his
settlement, and taking immediate pos-
session of all the fruits of his honest in-
dustry. The poor man, stung with this
instance of unparalleled ingratitude and
insensibility, boldly determined, instead
of submitting to his wrongs, to seek
relief; and, in a letter addressed to
Philip, represented his own and the sol-
dier’s conduct in a lively and affecting
manner. The king was instantly fired
with indignation; he ordered that jus-
tice should be done without delay; that
the possessions should be immediately
restored to the man whose charitable
oflices had been thus horribly repaid ;
and having seized the soldier, caused
these Words to be branded on his fore-

--_--._*
head, The Ungratqful Guest ; a charac-
ter infamous in every age and among
all nations, but particularly among the
Greeks, who from the earliest times
were most scrupulously observant of the
laws of hospitality.
(d) HANNAH MORE/S VIEIV OF
[N GRATITUDE.——At a dinner party
at Bath, the Rev. Mr. Jay, by wliom
the anecdote was communicated, was
lamenting the ingratitude which Mrs.
Hannah More had recently met with
from a person he had recommended to
her beneficence, upon which he re-
ceived a look from her which silenced
him; and after dinner, drawing him
into a corner of the room, she said,
“You know we must never speak of
such things as these before people, for
they are always too backward to do
good, and they are sure to dwell on
such facts to justify their illiberality.”
She finely added, “ It is well for us
sometimes to meet with such instances
of ingratitude, to show us our motives ;
for if they have been right, we shall
not repent of our doing, though we Iu
ment the depravity of a fellow-creature.
In these instances also, as in a glass,
we may see little emblems of ourselves ;
for what, after all, is the ingratitude of
any one towards us, compared with our
ingratitude towards our Infinite Bene
factor?”
227. INSTRUMENTALITIES, FEEBLE.
(a) DISPUTE ABOUT PAUL AND
PLATO.—-“ I once heard,” says Chry-
sostom, “ a Christian disputing in a
ridiculous manner with a Greek, and
both parties in their dispute refuting
themselves. For what the Christian
$ ought to have said, this the Greek as-
serted; and what one would naturally
suppose the Greek would say, this the
Christian maintained. The point of
controversy was the superiority of Paul
or Plato; the Greek endeavoring to
show that Paul was unlearned and igno-
rant; and the Christian in his simpli-
city being anxious to prove that Paul
was more eloquent than Plato. The
victory was on the side of the Greek as

his argument proved to be the stronger.
Now if Paul were a more eloquent
teacher than Plato, many would pro-
bably object that it was not by grace,
but by excellency of speech that he
prevailed. Thus the Christian’s asser-
tion was in favor of the cause of the
Greek, and what the Greek said was in
the Christian’s favor. For if Paul was
uneducated and overcame Plato the vic-
tory was brilliant. The former, un-
learned as he was, pusuaded the disci.
ples of the latter and brought them over
to his views, whence it is evident that
the Gospel is not the result of human
wisdom but of the grace of God.”
416
INTEGRITY.
227,229
fi
(7)) THE SOUDRAH’S REASON-
ING.-—“I am by birth,” said a con-
verted I-Iindoo, when addressing a n um-
ber of his countrymen, “ of an insigni-
ficant and contemptiblc caste; so low,
that if a Brahmin should chance to
touch me, he must go and bathe in the
Ganges for the purpose of Purification ;
and yet God has been pleased to call
me, not merely to the knowledge of the
Gospel, but to the high office of teach-
ing it to others. My friends, do you
know the reason of God’s conduct? It
is this: if God had selected one of you
learned Brahmins, and made you the
preacher, when you were successful in
making converts, by-standers would
have said it was the amazing learning
of the Brahmin, and his great weight
of character, that were the cause; but
now, when any one is convinced by my
instrumentality, no one thinks of ascrib-
mg any of the praise to me; and God,
as is his due, has all the glory.”
(0) THE EXHORTER AND THE
STRANGERS. —-A Baptist church
north of Utica, N. Y., being without a
pastor, used to help the deficiency by
reading sermons and select passages
from edifying writers. On these occa-
sions, a warm-hearted though unlettered
brother would always at the conclusion,
deliver a solemn exhortation. One

Lord’s day, while pursuing their cus-
tomary practice, two gentlemen entered
and took their seats in the congregation,
whose appearance indicated more than
ordinary worldly respectability. The
brethren became alarmed, lest at the
conclusion of the reading, the custom-
ary exhorter would mortify them by
his rude and unpolished address; and
they determined to close the meeting
quicker than usual and shut out the ex-
hortation. But the vigilant brother with
his zealous spirit was too quick for
them; the reading was hardly finished
before he was on his feet, and began
his warm-hearted appeal. One hung
his head and another, but neither
daunted or disturbed the speaker. He
went on to the end of his message and
sat down. The meeting was soon con-
cluded, and several retired with great
fears as to the opinions that would be
formed of the respectability of the
church by the two strangers. Some
time after this, at another meeting, one
of these individuals presented himself‘
among them, and after a while, to their
surprise, rose up to tell what the Lord
had done for his soul; and stated the
message of the exhorter, as the message
of mercy to his soul. How careful
should we be not to despise the day of
small things.
228. INTEGRITY.
(a) THE TWO OFFERS.-—-Julius
Drusus, a Roman tribune, had a house
that in many places lay exposed to the
view of the neighborhood. A person
came and offered, that for five talents
he would so alter it, that it should not
be liable to that inconvenience. “ I
will give thee ten talents,” said Drusus,
“ if thou canst make my house con-
spicuous in every room of it, that so all
the city may behold i11 what manner I
lead In life.”
((2) CASE OF MARVELL.—\The
borough of Hull, in the reign of Charles
II, chose Andrew Marvell, a young
gentleman of little or no fortune, and
maintained him in London for the ser-
vice of the public. With a view to
27
bribe him, his old school-fellow, the
Lord Treasurer Danby, went to him in
his garret. At parting, the lord treas-
urer slipped into his hands an order
upon the treasury for £1000, and then
went into his chariot. Marvell looking
at the paper, called after the treasurer,
“ My lord, I request another moment.”
‘They went up again to the garret, and
Jack, the servant boy, was called,
“Jack, what hadl for dinner yester-
day?” “Don’t you remember, sir,
you had the little shoulder of mutton
that you ordered me to bring from a
woman in the market 3” “Very right.
What have I for dinner to-day?”
“ Don’t you know, sir, that you made
me lay up the blade boge to broil?”
41
2‘2§
INTEGRITY.
“ Tis so : very right. Go away.”
“ My lord, do you hear that? Andrew
Marvell’s dinner is provided; there’s
your piece of paper, I want it not. I
knew the sort of kindness you intended.
I live here to serve my constituents.
The ministry may seek men for their
urpose; I am not one.”
(0) THE FIRM J URYI\/IAN.-A
certain person, being on a jury in a trial
of life and death, he was completely
satisfied of the innocence of the pris-
oner; all the other eleven were of the
opposite opinion; but he was resolved
that a verdict of guilty should not be
brought in. In the first place, he spent
several hours in trying to convince
them; but found that he had made no
impression, and that he was exhausting
the strength that was to be reserved
for another mode of operation. He
therefore calmly told them it should
now be a trial who could endure con-
finement and famine the longest, and
that they might be quite assured he
would sooner die than release them at
the expense of the prisoner’s life. In
this situation they spent about twenty-
four hours, when, at length, they all
acceded to his verdict of acquittal.
(d) SEWALL AND THE SHOE-
BRUSHES.———Judge Sewall, of Massa-
chusetts, who died in 1760, went one
day into a hatter’s shop, in order to
purchase a pair of shoe brushes. The
master of the shop presented him with
a couple. “ WVhat is your price '2” said
the judge. “ If they will answer your
purpose,” replied the other, “ you may
have them and welcome.” The judge,
upon hearing this, laid them down, and
bowing, was leaving the shop; upon
which the hatter said to him, “Pray,
sir, your honor has forgotten the prin-
cipal object of your visit.” “ By no
means,” answered the judge; “if you
please to set a price I am ready to pur-
chase: but ever since it has fallen to
my lot to occupy a seat on the bench, I
have studiousl y avoided receiving to the
value of a single copper, lest at some
future period of my life, it might have
some kind of influence in determining
my 'udgment.”
(e) CATHARINE II AND
CO UN T MUN I CH .---When Catharine

the Second ascended the throne of Rus-
sia, she solieited Count Munich to ac-
cept some marks of her favor, although
she knew he had been the most formid-
able opponent to her accession. “ N 0,”
said the count, “I am an old man; I
have already suffered many misfor-
tunes; and if I purchased a few years
of life by compromising my principles,
I should make but a bad exchange.”
(f) BONNELUS INTEGRITY.
—J ames Bonnell, Esq., was the ac-
comptant-general of the revenue in Ire-
land in the seventeenth century, and
was equally eminent for his excellen-
ces as a man and a Christian. He had
many opportunities of improving his
fortune,and met with temptations which
few but himself would have resisted.
He despatched his business with the ut-
most readiness, and in the most oblig-
ing manner, but never once would re-
ceive a gratuity or reward. Wlieii
three pieces of broad gold at one time,
and a guinea or two at another, were
left on his table by persons whom he
had greatly served, he gave it all away
among persons who were in want, tell-
ing his friends that though he had
served others greatly, yet his taking re-
wards might hereafter bias his judg-
ment, and thus prove a snare to him;
and that therefore his principles should
be known, and he would take no more
than the king allowed him.
(g) FRANKLIN AND HIS PA-
PE R.-Soon after his establishment in
Philadelphia, Franklin was offered a
piece for publication in his newspaper.
Being very busy, he begged the gentle-
man would leave it for consideration.
The next day the author called and
asked his opinion of it. “WVhy, sir,”
replied Franklin, “ I am sorry to sayl
think it highly scurrilous and defama-
tory. But being at; a loss on account
of my poverty, whether to reject it or
not,I thought Iwould put it to this
issue,——at night, when my work was
done, I bought a two-penny leaf, on
which I supped heartily, and then wrap-
ping myself in my great coat, slept;
very soundly on the floor till morning;
when another leaf and mug of water
afforded a pleasant breakfast. Now,
sir, since I can live very comfertably
418
WAY OF INTEMPERANCE.
228,229
'-
in this manner, why should I prostitute
my press to personal hatred or party
passion for a more luxurious living 1”
One cannot read this anecdote of our
American sage, without thinking of So-
crates’ reply to king Archelaus, who
had pressed him to give up preaching
in the dirty streets of Athens, and come
and live with him in his splendid
courts.—“ Meal, please your Majesly is
a ha ff-penny a peck at AZ/zensgmd water
[get for nothing 1”
(h) ANCIENT HERNI~IUTTERF7
--ln one of the wars in Germany, a
captain of cavalry was ordered out on
a foraging party. He put himself at
the head of his troop, and marched to
the quarter assigned him. It was a
solitary valley, in which hardly any
thing but woods could be seen. In the
midst of it stood a little cottage: on
perceiving it he went up, and knocked
* Better known in this country by the name i
of Moravians or United Brethren.

at the door; an ancient Hernhutter,
with a beard silvered with age, came
out. “Father,” said the officer, “show
me a field where I can set my troops a
foraging.” “ Presently,” replied the
Hernhutter. The good old man walked
before, and conducted them out of the
valley. After a quarter of an hour’s
march, they found a fine field of barley:
“ This is the very thing we want,” said
the captain. “ Have patience for a
few minutes,’ replied the guide; “ you
shall be satisfied.” They went on, and at
the distance of a quarter of a league fur-
ther, they arrived at anotherfield of bar-
ley. The troop immediately dismount-
ed, cut down the grain, trussed it up,
and remounted. The officer then said
to his conductor, “Father, you have
given to yourself and us unnecessary
trouble : the first field was much
better than this.” “Very true, sir,”
replied the good old man, “ but it
was not mine.”
7
IN TEMPERANGE.
229. Way to Intemperance
(a) MODERATE DRINKERS BE-
VVARE.-—-A respectable man, buta mo-
derate drinker, living in the town of
Hadl yme, Conn.,was urged by the State
Temperance Agent some months since
to join the temperance society. He said
“ I am my own in aster, and can take care
of myself. Idon’t drink but little, and I
won’t give it up.” A short time after
this, an appointment was made for an
address from the agent.—-On the same
day, in the evening of which the address
was to be delivered, this man in com-
pany with a neighbor crossed the river
in a small skiff to a grogshop in Cheshire,
kept by a professor of religion. There
they found several of kindred spirit,
and down they sat. Of course the bottle
circulated freely; and over it were dis-
cussed the merits of temperance so-
cieties. Many sage remarks were
made about trampling upon individual
rights, and invading the liberties of m en.
The rumselling professor joined them,
and theught it outrageous that retailing

should be reprobated. Still the bottle
goes round, and much ridicule is cast
upon the cold water speech that is ex-
pected in the evening. Again they drink,
and the two friends set out on their re-
turn. Now mark the result. In re-
crossing the river the boat is carried by
the current some distance below the land-
ing-place. Arriving at the shore they
quarrel, and this man sets out alone to
take the boat to its place. He proceeds,
gets out into the stream, and is discover‘
ed by a negro, who calls him to come
ashore, telling him he is intoxicated, and
’tis not safe for him to row the boat alone.
“ Drunkard 1” says he, “ I’m as sober as
any man.” But before the negro could
get to his assistance, he tumbled over-
board and sunk to rise no more. The
race from respectability to a drunkard’s
end was very short. The exercises of
the temperance meeting in the evening
were commenced by relating this inci-
dent to his fellow townsmen.
(6) THE STUDENTS FALL.-—
The parents of Henry H had placed
him in the university of G-—-——--, and

419
229
I NTEMPERANOE.

they hoped, fondly hoped that he would
be their stay in their declining years.
Oh! how that fond father watched over
him while he was pursuing his collegiate
studies. And when he received his hon-
ors at the university—when he received
his honors at the hands of his instructors
together with their blessing when his
Alma Mater gloried in having his name
enrolled upon her records—-then the fond
parents received him with open arms,
and rejoiced that their son had returned,
and had fulfilled all their expectations.
In an evil hour he consented to make one
of a social party, to celebrate some an-
niversary. The wine flowed freely and
plenteously, and for some time he with-
stood the jests and banterings of his com-
panions, and refused the preferred glass.

1 At length, by the persuasions of one of
his dearest friends, he took the first glass,
and finding that his spirits became more
bouyant, he took another and another,
until Alcohol usurped the throne from
which Reason had fled abashed——and the
proud scholar fell drunk upon the floor.
He, who had so often before bid defiance
to the tempter, and had battled manfully
against all its arts, had been seduced by
his kind friends, and in one short night
the toil of years had been swept away I
Henry never recovered from that fall.
No kind persuasions of his doting pa-
rents——~no influence that was exerted by
his dearest relatives, could save him.
Headlong he rushed into the dark
abyss of intemperance, and in a few
weeks filled a cZ7"7mJrard’s grave !
(0) THE DYING DRUNKARD’S
ACCUSATION.—-A respectable gen-
tleman at Edinburgh related a most af-
fecting fact, which we will briefly re-
peat. A religious lady at Edinburgh
was sent to visit a woman who was dy-
ing, in consequence of disease brought
on by intemperance. The woman had
formerly been in the habit of washing in
the lady’s family, and when she came to
the dying woman, she remonstrated with
her on the folly and wickedness of her
conduct, in giving way to so dreadful a
sin as that of intemperance. The dying
woman said, “You have been the au-
thor of my intemperance.” “What did
you say 2” with pious horror, exclaim-
ed the lady ; “I the author of your in-

temperance I” “ Yes, ma’am, I never
drank whisky till I came to wash in
your family: you gave me some, and
told me it would do me good. I felt in-
vigorated, and you gave it me again.
When I was at other houses not so hos-
pitable as yours,I purchased a little,
and by and by I found my way to the
spirit shop, and thought it was necessa-
ry to carry me through my hard work ;
and, by little and little, I became what
you now see me.” Conceive what this
lady felt.
(cl) “THAT FIRST GLASS.”-
So said a drunkard, after he had waked
up from a three weeks’ “ spree,” which
had been preceded by several months of
total abstinence, which gave hope to his
friends that he would entirely reform-—-—
and which abstinence was maintained
without a pledge. “ Why did you give
up to drunkenness again, when you had
abstained so long 2” “ O ! it was that
first glass. Wheii that was done, there
was no stopping. The dramseller said,
‘Just one glass with me for old acquaint-
ance sake ’--and I have been three
weeks in his bar-room, drunk day and
night.” Mortified, ashamed, chagrined
beyond measure, his confidence in his
own resolution destroyed, this poor
man has returned to the gutter. Who
ruined this man’!
L (e) TWO OLD MEN’S POSTERL
TY.-—An aged man over whom had
rolled a hundred winters (says the N.
Y. Evangelist of 1831), died not many
years since in New England, who was,
in the estimation of all who knew him,
pious.---But he had early contracted a
fondness for ardent spirits, and drank
ternperately and daily for the greater
part of his life. He gave a little to his
children as they grouped around him;
and they thought what their father
loved must be innocent. But with their
growing years a fondness for the stim-
ulus increased, and this aged man
lived to mourn the death of half his
sons and forty descendants, who went
down to the grave drunkards. One son
yet lives, who was a professor of religion
but has been excommunicated,-—and is
an exile and a drunkard, with a large’
family who are ruined by his sin.
Another aged man still lives in the
420
EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE.
230. 231

vicinity of the same place, who num-'
bers nearly one hundred descendants,
all of whom are temperate persons.
He never was in the habit of drinking
ardent spirit, nor does he give it to his
sons, and his sons’ sons, but like J ena-
dab, he drinks pure water.
\/Vhat a contrast will the day of
judgment disclose, if in one family in-
temperance continues to roll down like
a fiery deluge, and in the other tem-
perance reigns, and descends from gen-
eration to generation !
EF F FGTS OF INT ElIl’EllANCE.
230. Slavery of Appetite.
(a) THE DRUNKARD’S THRAL- l
DOM.—-The writer of the pamphlet
entitled The Confessions of a Drunkard I
says, “ Of my condition there is no hope
that I should ever change; the waters
have gone over me; but out of the
black depths could I be heard, I would
cry aloud to all those who have set a
foot in that perilous flood. Could the
youth to whom the flavor of his first
wine is as delicious as the opening
scenes of life, or the entering upon
some newly discovered paradise, look
into my desolation, and be made to un-
derstand what a dreary thing it is, when
a man shall feel himself going down a
precipice with open eyes and a passive
will,—to see his destruction, and have
no power to stop it, and yet to feel it all
the way emanating from himself; to
perceive all goodness emptied out of
him, and yet not able to forget a time
when it was otherwise; to bear about
the piteous spectacle of his own ruin :—
eould he see my fevered eye, feverish
with the last night’s drinking and fever-
ishly looking forward for this night’s
repetition of the folly ; could he feel the
body of death out of which I cry hour-
ly, with feebler and feebler outcry, to
be delivered,—-it were enough to make
him dash the sparkling beverage to the
earth in all the pride of its mantling
temptation.”
(6) THE GENERAUS CONF ES-
SION.—-A certain General, and hither-
to regarded as a very respectable citi-
zen, had become so intemperate in his
habits as to ‘mingle strong drink,’ three

or four times a day. One of his friends
visited him and proposed to have a
“ serious talk,77 with him on the subject.
The General replied—-“ Please to
hear what lhave to say first. I am sen-
sible I drink more than is necessary. I
am sensible if I persist in my present
course the habit will increase upon me,
and my respectable standing in society
will be lost. I am sensible that my
estate will be wasted for want of prep-
er attention. I am sensible that my
amiable family will be involved in dis-
grace and wretchedness. I am sensi-
ble that my constitution will be under-
mined and my health be gone--my
countenance will carry marks of de-
prav ity—my mind become enfeebled——-
my soul lost forever except I ‘repent.
Now, sir, if all these considerations,
flashing full conviction on my mind,
and sometimes filling me with horror,
cannot deter me from this detestable
habit of drinking, think you that your
eloquence is going to do it’! ” His
friend made no reply, but went away
sorrowfully. Surely wine is a mocker,
and strong drink is raging.
231. Intellectual and Moral Degra-
datmn.
(a) THE WELSHMAN AND HIS
GOAT.-—A \Velshman was for some
time awfully habituated to the vice of
drunkenness, but was at length restored
to sobriety by the following singular in-
cident. He had a tame goat, which
would follow him to the alehouse he
frequented. One day, by way of frolic,
he gave the animal so much ale that it
became intoxicated. VVhat particularly
struck the WVelshman was, that from
that time, though the creature would
follow him to the door, he never could
"ct. it to enter the house. He was
thereby led to see how much his sin had
sunk him beneath a beast, and from that
period became a sober man.
(1)) A LONG-BEARDED BED.
FELLOW. --—The following circum-
stance happened in one of the towns of
Arkansas:-A man had been drinking
until a late hour at night before he
started for home. I-Ionest folks had
long been in bed, and the houses were
4-21
23]
INTEM PERANCE.

all shut and dark. The liquor he had
taken was too much for him, he did not
know where to go. He staggered into
an empty wagon shed, and fell on the
ground. For a long time he lay in all
the unconsciousness of a drunken sleep,
and would undoubtedly have frozen, for
the snow on the ground showed the
night to be very cold, had not others
less insensible than himself, been around
him.—-This shed was a favorite resort
for the hogs, which were out when the
new comer arrived, but soon returned
to their bed. In the utmost kindness,
and with the truest hospitality, they gave
their biped companion the middle of the
bed; some lying on either side of him,
and others acting the part of the quilt.
Their warmth prevented him from be-
ing injured by his exposure. Towards
morning he awoke; finding himself
comfortable, in blissful ignorance of his
whereabouts, he supposed himself en-
joying the accommodations of a tavern,
in company with other gentlemen. He
reached out his hand, and catching hold
of the stiff bristles of a hog, exclaimed,
“Why, mister, WHEN DID YOU SHAVE
LAST 2 ”
(0) THE BLASTED GENIUS.-—
How many of the highest geniuses have
passed away from the intellectual firma-
ment, consumed like the burning stars
of which astronomers tell us! And
how’! By the baleful fires of intem-
perance and lust. Says a distinguished
divine, “ A story of genius in ruins ri-
ses on my mind. In one of the older
colleges in Massachusetts, some 20 or 25
years since, there was seen a youth of
the highest promise, bearing an honored
name, and concentrating in his own in-
tellect the moral power of two genera-
tions of his ancestors. He was a prod-
igy of learning. While others of his
class were slowly plodding through the
daily tasks in Xenophon, he would be
reading the Greek tragedians con
amore. He seized a language almost
by intuition, and his heart entered into
the heart of antiquity, as he read the
language of the old and buried nations.
Called upon by the officers of the col-
legs to read dissertations in the chapel
upon abstruse and difficult subjects, he
was accustomed to read them from
blank papers, pouring forth spontaneous
bursts of argument that thrilled while
they convinced, and charmed while they
persuaded. With Euclid, Newton and
La Place, he seemed as familiar as with
Homer and Eschylus, and he levied
large tribute from the lore of every na-
tion under heaven. His person was
faultless; his hair like the raven’s
wing; his eye like the eagle’s. By an
anomaly in American colleges, he do-
manded and received his first and second
degrees from his Alma Mater on the
same day, and on the same evening he
was joined in the holy bands of wedlock
with one of the most charming nymphs
in the vale that embosoms the college.
His course was still onward and up-
ward. His profession, the law, led him
to the highest office of advocacy in the
state. He was Attorney General at an
age when most students are admitted to
the bar. Suddenly, when as yet no one
knew the cause, he resigned his high
appointment, giving no reasons. He
was a secret drunkard l Too high was
his sense of honor, and the importance
of his station, to intrust himself longer
with the destinies of society. I turn
with horror from the years of degrada-
tion that followed. He sunk like a
mighty ship in mid ocean, not without
many a lurch, many a sign of righting
once more to plough the proud seas that
were destined to entomb him forever.
Long since his lovely wife had quitted
the home which his vices had made
wretched; she had returned to her pa-
rents to grieve and to die. But though
her husband bowed over her grave, and
wept bitterly on the head of the sweet
boy she left behind her,he was not per-
manently affected by the shock. The
most distinguished men for talent and
piety in the United States wept and
prayed over him ; and at times he
would get the better of the demon that
ruled him, and again put forth his gi-
gantic powers. The greatest effort he
put forth during this period was the
successful advocacy of an important
case before the Supreme Court of the
United States. Marshall, the patriarch
of American judges, gazed with wonder
on the barrister, as burst upon burst of
eloquence and argument followed. Geo.
422
EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE.
231
W. Briggs, the member of Congress
from Massachusetts, seeing his splendid
portrait hanging in a conspicuous place
at VVashington, inquired whose likeness
it was; and one of the highest authori-
ties answered——-that is the portrait of
Talcott, the most brilliant genius——the
most talented man in the United States.
In his last spasm of temperance he
wrote, The Trial and Condemnation of
Alcohol : a popular tract, clothed with
the forms and phraseology of a criminal
court. But after a fatiguing argument
before a court in the city of New York,
he was over-persuaded by an advocate
to take a glass of beer; and he com-
plied. It was his last sober moment,
till he was in the agonies of death. As
the fabled Phoenix is said to rise from
the ashes of its parents, one of the most
lovely, eloquent advocates of temper-
ance in the State of New York was the
son of this ruined genius; the little one
over whom he wept at the grave of his
wife.
(d) A DRUNKARD’S HElRS.—
U—, of V—, commenced the world a
poor man; but by industry and econo-
my he amassed a large property so that
he spent the latter part of his life in the
luxury often attendant upon wealth when
not at the disposal of religious principle.
In a pleasant part of his grounds, and
at a short distance from his house, he
prepared an elegant family tomb, to
which were successively committed his
own and his wife’s remains. Three
sons inherited his estate, and lived for
a number of years in luxury and lordly
independence. Some years since one
of these sons was called to bury his
wife, whose remains were committed to
the same family tomb. This large in-
dependent estate is now wasted. These
heirs to unearned wealth have nothing
which they can call their own, but are
dependent; on daily labor for the suste-
nanee of their families. The door of
the tomb has been thrown down, and
for '7 or 8 years these sons have suffered
the remains of their parents, and of the
wife of one of them, though within a
stone’s throw of their door, to lie exposed
to the open air, and the examination of
every intruder; nay, to be scattered

upon the floor, and without the door of 1
the tomb ; and even to be trampled up-
on by sheep and other animals that are
permitted to graze in the field where the
tomb lies. Monumental inscriptions
have been defaced, and a mouse has
built its nest among the bones of her
whose husband lives near by!
And what has been the cause of all
this waste of property, this beastly in-
sensibility? Habits ofluxury and idle-
ness, but the grand cause of the whole
has been Inlemperance. “ She has cast
down many wouncled, 3/ea, many strong
men have been slain by her. Her house
is the way to hell, goiny down to the
chambers of deaZh.”’—Proverbs '7: 26,
27.
(e) TI-IE RUINED PREACHER.-
A gentleman traveling in Essex, Eng.,
called at the house of a friend, where
he met with a young minister who was
just going to preach in the neighbor-
hood. The lady of the house offered
him a glass of spirits before he entered
upon his work, which he accepted. An
elderly man, who was present, thus ad-
dressed him :—“ My young friend, let
me offer you a word of advice respect-
ing the use of liquors. There was a
time when I was as acceptable a
preacher as you now may be; but by
too frequently accepting of the well-de-
signed favors of my friends, I contract-
ed a habit of drinking, so that now I
never go to bed sober if I can get li-l
quor. I am, indeed,just as miserable as
a creature can be at this side of hell ! ”
About two years after this, the traveler
had occasion to call again at the same
house, and made inquiry concerning the
unhappy old man, when he was inform-
ed that he had been some time dead. It
was stated that towards the close of his
life, he had not drank to the same ex-
cess as formerly; but it was only be-
cause he could not obtain spirituous
liquors.
(f) A CLASSMATE’S FATE.—-
I/Vhen I commenced a course of study,
says a writer in the Pastor’s Journal,
XV. O. was my classmate. His father,
after having spent many years of faith-
ful labor in the ministry, had gone to
his rest, and his mother had fastened on
him her fondest affections, her highes‘;
hopes. He was a youth of uncommon
423
232,233
IN TEMPERAN OE.
0

a
promise. His talents were of the first
order, and every attention had been
paid to their early development. His
mind was penetrating and rapid in its
movements; his imagination was bril-
liant ; his memory retentive and ready.
In his disposition he was amiable and
kind-—peculiarly capable of winning
the affections of all who knew him. He
had every desirable facility of improve-
ment--enough of this world’s goods
to carry him through an extensive
course of study, and establish him in
professional life. For a while his pro-
gress rejoiced the heart of his friends,
and awakened the highest expectations.
But he took the poisonous cup! He
drank it, and his sun went down ere it
was fully risen.
Before I left College, for which we
commenced our preparation together, I
looked out from my window and saw
him under its walls,——a dirty, ragged,
friendless vagabond. His property had
been squandered away—his mother had
died of a broken heart, and he was beg-
ging worn-out garments to cover his
shame. The next that I heard of him
was that he was found dead by the
wayside. This young man, in point of
intellectual endowments and prospects
of future eminence, once had few su-
periors. And had he but dashed from
his lips the fatal cup, and swore eternal
abstinence, he might now have been
standing at the bar of justice, or in the
hall of legislation, an object of admira-
tion and envy.
232. Vice and Crime.
(a) THE YOUTH’S EXECUTION.
--The sheriff, says an old man, took
out his watch, and said, “If you have
any thing to say, speak now, for you
have only five minutes to live.” The
young man burst into tears, and said-—
“I have to die. I had only one little
brother, and he had beautiful blue eyes,
alld flaxen hair, and I loved him ; but
one day I got drunk, for the first time
in my life, and coming home, I found
my little brother gathering strawberries
in the garden, and I became angry with
him without cause, and killed him, at
one blow with a rake. I did not know
any thing about it until the next morn‘
ing when I awoke from sleep, and
found myself tied and guarded, and was
told that when my little brother was
found, his hair was clotted with his
blood and brains, and he was dead.
Whiskey has done this. It has ruined
me. I never was drunk but once. I
have only one more word to say, and
then I am going to my final Judge. I
say it to young people. Never, NEVER !
NEVERI! touch any thing that can
intozvicale./” As he pronounced these
words, he sprang from the box and was
launched into an awful eternity.
(b) HALE’S TESTIMONY.——Lord
Chief Justice Hale once remarked, “The
places of judication, which I have long
held in this kingdom, have given me an
opportunity to observe the original cause
of most of the enormities that have been
committed for the space of nearly twenty
years: and by a due observation, I have
found that if the murders and man-
slaughters, the burglaries and robberies,
the riots and tumults, the adulteries,
and other great enormities that have hap-
pened in that time, were divided into
five parts, four of them have been the
issues and product of excessive drink-
ing, or of tavern and ale-house meet-
ings.” The proportion is little less in
our own country in the present time.
233. Domestic and Social Wretclmdness.
(oz) THE WINE PARTY-—A com-
pany of young men in New Orleans,
once assembled around the wine table,
for the purpose of enjoying the “ feast of
reason and the flow of soul.” One of
the party, who was a mere novice 111
drinking, while flushed with wine, in
an unguarded moment made use of ex-
pressions at which one of this social
party of friends took exceptions, an al-
tercation ensued, and the offended party
gave a peremptory challenge to the
young man above alluded to. Ac-
cording to a custom handed down to us
from the Goths, Huns, Vandals and Teu-
tones, called the code of honor, he was
induced to accept. In the morning,
when reason had resumed her seat, he
found himself in a dreadful sitsuation-—
duty would have prompted him not to
424
EFFECTS OF INTEMPERANCE.
233
have gone to what is miscalled the ' especially in the afternoon of a Sunday,
“field of honor,” but a morbid state of
public opinion prompted him to meet
his challenger, who was a practised duel-
list: they met, and this young man fell
a victim to a ruthless custom at the first
fire. He was borne home mortally
wounded to his widowed mother—for
he was her only son—-and died the fol-
lowing day.
Hardened men were struck mute with
grief, and shed tears at his untimely
fate; and if men so unused to feel could
thus be moved, what must have been
the anguish of a mother, when she saw
her son borne home in the agonies of
death, and who had left her in all the
buoyancy of youth, to join in a party
of professed friends! !
He was the only prop and stay of her
declining years. All her hopes and af-
fections were centered in him, and as
she gazed upon his manly form during
a brief struggle with the “ King of Ter-
rors,” it seemed as if her heart would
break.
The lonely widow followed to the
silent tomb the victim of a barbarous
custom, who met his death by going to
partake of a social glass at a WINE
PARTY.
(6) DEATH OF MRS. S.——Mrs.
was once the most admired of
all the ladies in her village. She could
sing the sweetest, play the prettiest,
talk the most enchantingly, dress the
most fashionably of all who moved in
the gay circles. Her husband was a
man of industry, who doted upon her,
was anxious at the least depression of
spirits, and allowed her every indul-
gence. When the temperance reform
commenced, he was anxious to sign the
pledge; but she said it was “ well
enough for the vulgar, but for people in
genteel life it would never do ; they could
neither go into parties, nor give parties.
Besides,” said she, “how can I ever
sing or dance without one or two glasses
of wine to give me a spring '5” Time
rolled on, when the inquiry began to be
made, What is the matter with the
beautiful Mrs. S '5 On the side-
walk, she was seen to reel to and fro,
and in her parties she was now as silly
as she was once enchanting. At church,



no sermon could keep up her eyelids-
Her poor husband saw the change. He
devised every method to keep liquor
from her, but all in vain. He soon
died of vexation and a broken heart.
She now gave herself up to brandy and
opium; and with a handsome property,
no resort was too low, no indulgence
too disgusting. For the last two years
of her life, few saw her, except as she
was stealing away, in the twilight of
evening, with a cloak on her head, to
the very lowest grog-shops, to fill her
bottle. One day her neighbors heard
that she was dying. Three respectable
women came in to see her, and found
her senseless and stupid, just surrender-
ing her lost soul into the hands of her
Maker. How awful the scene! If
there are any young females who read
this, let them be admonished to beware
of the exhilarating glass—beware of
that pronounced most innocent, “ spark:
ling champagne.”
(c) THE LITTLE SUICIDE.--A
writer in the Vermont Chronicle relates
the following as a fact that he learned
from good authority: “I wish I was
dead,” said a little boy one day to his
mother. “ Why’? ” asked his kind mo-
ther. “ Why, the boys all pester me so
about father, and I don’t want to go
again, in the night, to the store after
him.” His mother talked to him, but
thought he did not feel in earnest about
it. But one day, when she had return-
en from a visit, she inquired for the
children, and found all but this boy.
She looked, she called, but no answer.
She went to the barn as it was just grow-
ing dark. She opened the door, and there
in one corner, was her little sensitive
boy hanging by the neck. She burst into
tears. “ Oh my son, my son, is it you ?”
She felt his cold hands, and he was
dead. And at the funeral, his father
promised to drink no more rum: “I
have for ever done.” A long time he
kept his promise. One day how-
ever, Deacon P. was in the store; and
Deacon P. was a good man; he drank
but little. He asked for some brandy.
And while he drank it, he saw that
same man who had been a drunkard
looking at him; and he saw too that
425
234
IN TEMPER ANCE.

he was very uneasy; he walked about;
he sat down. Again he would go to
the door as if going away. He was in
silent thought. At length he went to the
counter and asked for a little brandy :
“ I may drink a little as well as Deacon
P.” He did drink, and became a con-
firmed drunkard again.
234. Fatal Accidents, Untimely and
Awful Deaths.
((1) SPONTANEOUS COMBUS-
TION.—Dr. Peter Sehofield, of Upper
Canada, gives the following case; a ter-
rible monition to all drunkards. A
young man of about 25 years of age,
had been an habitual drinker for many
years. I saw him about nine o’clock
in the evening on which it happened.
He was then, as usual, not drunk but
full of liquor. About eleven the same
evening I was called to see him. I
found him literally roasted from the
crown of his head to the soles of his
feet. He was found in a blacksmith’s
shop just across the way from where he
had been. The owner all of a sudden
discovered an extensive light in his
shop, as though the whole building was
in one general flame. He ran with the
greatest precipitancy, and on flinging
open the door, found a man standing
erect in the midst of a widely-extended,
silver-colored blaze, bearing, as he de-
scribed it, exactly the appearance of the
wick of a burning candle, in the midst
of its own flame. He seized him by
the shoulder and jerked him to the door,
upon which the flame was instantly ex-
tinguished.
There was no fire in the shop, neither
was there any possibility of fire having
been communicated to him from any
external source. It was purely a case
of spontaneous ignition. A general
sloughing came on; and his flesh was
consumed or removed in the dressing
leaving the bones and a few of the larger
blood-vessels standing. The blood, nev-
ertheless, rallied around the heart and
maintained the vital spark to the thir-
teenth day, when he died; not only the
most loathsome, ill-featured and dread-
ful picture that was ever presented to
human view, but his shricks, his cries
fi
and lamentations were enough to rend
a heart of adamant. He complained of
no pain of body; his flesh was gone.
He said he was suffering the torments
of hell 5 that he was ust upon its thres-
hold, and should soon enter its dismal
caverns; and in this frame of mind he
gave up the ghost.
In all such cases, Prof. Silliman re-
marks, the entire body becoming satu-
rated with alcohol, absorbed into all its
tissues, becomes highly inflammable, as
indicated by the vapor which reeks
from the breath and lungs of a drunk-
ard; this vapor, doubtless highly alco-
holic, may take fire, and then the body
slowly consume.
(0) LOSS OF THE NEPTUNE.——
This ship, carrying 36 men, sailed from
Aberdeen, in Scotland, on a fine morn~
ing in May, with the fairest prospect of
good weather and a prosperous voyage.
About 11 o’clock the wind arose from
the east and swept over the sea with over-
whelming violence. In about an hour
she was seen standing in, but under such
a press of sail as, considering the gale,
astonished all on shore. But on she
came, now bounding on the top of the
sea, and then almost ingulfed in the
foaming cavern. The harbor of Aber-
deen is exposed to the east, and formed
by a pier on one side, and a breakwater
on the other, and so narrow at the en-
trance as not to admit two large ships
abreast. All saw that something was
wrong on board. One attempt was made
to shorten sail, but the ship was then
within a cable’s length of the shore, and
urged on with an impetuosity which no
human power .could withstand. The
wives and families of the men who were
thus hastening to death had assembled
near the pier; but all stood in silent hor-
ror, broke in a moment by the cry, “she’s
lostl ” as the vessel, lashed on by the
tempest, passed to the outer side of the
breakwater, and struck with awful vio-
lence between two black rugged rocks.
The cries of the victims were most hor-
rible. The dreadful crisis had come,
and they were lost indeed. A few brave
men on shore endeavored to man the life
boat, and take it round the breakwater,
but it was unavailing. One heavy sea
rolling over the wreck for a moment
4:26
THE INTEMPERATE REFORMED.
234,235
concealed her, and when the people
looked again she was gone! Her crew
and timbers were hurled against the
rocks, and with the exception of one man,
who was washed up and lodged on a pro-
jecting edge, none escaped of the 36 who
had that morning left the shore in health
and spirits. From the man who was
saved, the melancholy truth was learnt
that the crew were all z'nz’owz'caled, and
could not manage the vessel.
(0) RUM AND RUIN.—The Rev.
Mr. Scoresby, preacher to seamen in
Liverpool, was for many years the mas-
ter of a whale ship in the northern seas.
He relates the following fact, of which
he was an eye-witness. It is given in
his own words.
“ A collier brig was stranded on the
Yorkshire coast, and I had occasion to
assist in the distressing service of res-
cuing a part of the crew by drawing
them up a vertical cliff, two or three hun-
dred feet in altitude, by means of a very
small rope, the only material at hand.
The first two men who caught hold of
the rope were hauled safely up to the
top; but the next, after being drawn to
a considerable height, slipped his hold
and fell; and with the fourth and last
who ventured upon this only chance of
life, the rope gave way, and he also was
plunged into the foaming breakers be-
neath. Immediately afterwards the ves-
sel broke up, and the reinnantiof the ill-
fated crew perished before our eyes.
What now was the cause of this heart-
rending event’? Was it stress of wea-
ther, or a contrary wind, or unavoidable
accident’? N 0 such thing. It was the
entire want of moral conduct in the crew.
Every sailor, to a man, was in a state
of intoxication ! The helm was intrusted
to a boy ignorant of the coast. He ran
the vessel upon the rock at Whitby, and
one half of the miserable dissipated crew
awoke to consciousness in eternity.
235- The Intemperate Reformed.
(a) PERSEVERAN CE REWARD-
ED.——-A little girl, about eight years old,
once took a temperance paper, at a tem-
perance meeting, to see how many she
could get to sign it. The next morning
she presented it to her father who had

been in a drunken frolic for a fortnight,
and came home drunk while his little
daughter was at the temperance meet-
ing the night before. This cruel father
‘raised his hand and struck his child a
blow which leveled her on the floor,
and said, “ I’ll learn you to be saucy to
your parents.” The little girl got up,
and picked up the constitution, which
had fallen when she received the blow.
She took it with her to school that day
and got the teacher and most of the
scholars to sign it. I/Vhen she had
leisure she would ask her mother if she
might go to such and such a neighbor’s
and see how many could be got to join
the Temperance Society.
Her father could not but see what was
doing in the neighborhood. For two
weeks he remained at home, and did not
use a drop of intoxicating liquor, a thing
he had not done for years before. At
the end of that period he said to his
daughter, “Mary, how many names
have you got on your temperance con-
stitution 2 ” “I will bring it and see,”
she replied. As her father was count-
ing the names she stood between his
knees, and when he had looked them
over he said, “You have one hundred
and fifty.” She jumped up on his knee,
threw her little arms around her father’s
neck, and impressed a sweet kiss on his
cheek, and said, “ Do you sign it too,
father, and then there will be one hun-
dred and fifty-one.”
The old drunkard’s heart was melt-
ed. His bosom heaved—-his bloated,
haggard cheek was wet with the tears
of contrition——he pressed his Mary to
his heart, and said, “I will sign it ;”
and at once afiixed his name to the con-
stitution and pledge.
(b) CURE FOR DRUNKENNESS.
A man in Maryland notoriously addict-
ed to this vice, hearing an uproar in his
kitchen one evening, had the curiosity to
step, without noise, to the door, to know
what was the matter, when he beheld
his servants indulging in the most un-
bounded roar of laughter at a couple of
his negro boys, who were mimicking
himselfin his drunken fits; showing how
he reeled and staggered ; how he looked
and nodded, and hickuped and tumbled.
The picture which these children of na-
427
235
INTEMPERANCE.
ture drew of him, and which had filled
the rest with so much merriment, struck
him so forcibly, that he became a per-
fectly sober man, to the unspeakable
joy of his wife and children.
(0) THE DRUNKARD AND THE
MONKEYS.———A rich drunkard kept
two monkeys for his sport. One day he
looked into his dining-room, where he
and his guests had left some wine, and
the two had mounted the table, and were
helping themselves generously to the
wine—jabbering and gesturing, as they
had seen their master and his guests.
In a little time they exhibited all the ap-
pearance of drunken men. First they
were merry, and jumped about, but
soon they got to fighting on the floor,
and tearing out one another’s hair. The
drunkard stood in amazement. “What 1”
said he, “is this a picture of myself '5
Do the brutes rebuke me T’ It so affect-
ed his mind, that he resolved he would
never drink another drop. And from
that day he was never known to be any
other than a sober and a happy man.
(d) RULING OVER RUM.--Col.
was a man of amiable manners
and well-informed mind. Being much
employed in public business which call-
ed him from place to place, ardent spi-
rit was often set before him with an in-
vitation to drink. At first he took a so-
cial glass for civility’s sake. But at
length a habit was formed, and appetite
began to crave its customary indulgence.
He drank more largely, and once or
twice was quite overcome. His friends
were alarmed. He was on the brink
of a precipice from which many had
fallen to the lowest pitch of wretched-
ness. In his sober hours he saw the
danger he was in. Said he to himself
one day when alone, “ Shall Colonel
B rule, or shall rum rule’! If Col-
onel B rule, he and his family
may be respectable and happy ; but if
rum rule, Colonel B is ruined, his
property wasted, and his family made
wretched 1” At length, said he, I set
down my foot, and said, “ Colonel B—-
shall rule and rum obey.” And from
that day Colonel B did rule. He
immediately broke off from his intem-
perate habits, and lived to a good old
age, virtuous, respected and happy. Let



every one who has acquired or is acqui-
ring a similar habit, go and do likewise.
(e) REFORMATiCN OF WM.
WIRT.-— The distinguished William
Wi1~t, within six or eight months after
his first marriage, became addicted to
intemperance, the effect of which ope-
rated strongly on the mind and health
of his wife, and in a few months more
she was numbered with the dead. Her
death led him to leave the county where
he resided, and he moved to Richmond,
where he soon rose to distinction. But
his habits hung about him, and occa-
sionally he was found with jolly and
frolicsome spirits, in bacchanalian rev-
elry. His true friends expostulated
with him to convince him of the injury
he was doing himself. But he still per-
sisted. His practice began to fall off,
and many looked on him as on the sure
road to ruin. He was advised to get
married, with a view of correcting his
habits. This he consented to do, if the
right person offered. He accordingly
paid his addresses to a Miss Gamble.
After some months’ attention, he asked
her hand in marriage; she replied,-
“ Mr. Wirt, I have been well aware of
your intentions for some time back, and
should have given you to understand
that your visits and attentions were not
acceptable, had I not reciprocated the
affection which you evinced for me.
But I cannot yield my assent until you
make me a pledge never to taste, touch.
or handle any intoxicating drinks.”
This reply to Mr. Wi1‘t was as unex-
pected as it was novel. His reply was,
that he regarded the proposition as a
bar to all farther consideration of the
subject, and left:-her. Her course to
him was the same as ever—-his, resent-
ment and neglect. In the course of a
few weeks he went again, and again so-
licited her hand. But her reply was,
her mind was made up. He became
indignant, and regarded the terms she
proposed as insulting to his honor, and
vowed it should be the last meeting they
should ever have. He took to drinking
worse and worse, and seemed to run
headlong to ruin. One day, while lying
in the outskirts of the city, near a little
grocery or grog-shop, dead drunk, a
young lady, whom it is not necessary
-I
MISCELLANEOUS.

--
236
p_—_—
to name, was passing that way to her
home, not far off, and beheld him with
his face upturned to the rays of the
scorching sun. She took her handker-
chief, with her own name marked upon
1t, and placed it over his face. After he
had remained in that way for some
hours, he was awakened, and his thirst
being so great, he went into the little
grocery or grog-shop to get a drink,
when he discovered the handkerchief, at
which he looked, and the name that w as
on it. After pausing a few minutes, he
exclaimed——“ Great God I who left this
with me! Who placed this on my
face!” No one knew. He dropped the
glass, exclaiming, “Enough! Enough !”
He retired instantly from the store, for-
getting his thirst, but not the debauch,
the handkerchief, or the lady, vowing,
if God gave him strength, never to
touch, taste, or handle intoxicating
drinks.
To meet Miss G. again was the hard-
est effort of his life. If he met her in
her carriage, or on foot, he would dodge
round the nearest corner. She at last
addressed him a note under her own
hand, inviting him to her house, which
he finally gathered courage enough to
accept. He told her if she still bore
affection for him, he would agree to her
own terms. Her reply was: “ My
conditions are now what they ever have
been.” “ Then,” said the disenthralled
Wll‘b, “I accept them.”
They were soon married ; and from
that day he kept his word, and his af-
fairs brightened, while honors and glory
gathered thick upon his brow. His
name has been enrolled high in the tem-
ple of fame, while his deeds, his patriot-
ism and renown, live after him with
imperishable lustre. How many noble
minds might the young ladies save, if
they would follow the example of the
heroine-hearted Miss G., the friend of
humanity, of her country, and the re-
lation of La Fayette.
236. Miscellaneous.
(a) DRUNKARDS OF THE RE-
VOLUTION.—-Benedict Arnold, the
traitor who attempted to betray his
country, was a rum-seller and a drunk-

ard. Three of the most important de-
feats of the American army, during the
Revolution, were sustained by men who
died drun kard s. Had a sober crew been
on board the Chesapeake, the brave
Lawrence would never have had to say
to his men, “ Don’t give up the ship.”
(6) MR. BlSHOP’S DELIRIUM
TREMENS.—The delirium tremens
is one of the most awful effects of in-
temperance. Says Mr. Bishop, of New-
Haven, “I had been for three weeks
beastly drunk. One of my first recol-
lections is that I was forced into my
own house. I remonstrated, and was
told that I had endeavored to kill a
neighbor. As soon as I found an op-
portunity, I seized a gun and rushed
out with the intention of shooting my
friend. I was immediately disarmed
and forced back into the house. My
mind was then seized with a frenzy.
Istood in the centre of the room. I
thought I heard my old companions
without whispering together about ap-
pointing a committee to call on me. I
refused to see them. It seemed to me
they were coming to murder me, andI
cried out in the greatest terror. I was
then secured and placed in bed. The
physician stood at the head of the bed
and several of his students were with
him. He told me I must be still. They
were going to perform on operation. I
did not like the appearance of things.
The students hung up wires all about
the room. I saw them talking with my
wife and telling her she had better give
her consent. They prepared a machine
to flay me alive, and began to cut my
flesh with saws, pull off my skin in
strings and hang them upon the wires.
Then it seemed to me a cage full of
wild beasts were let loose upon me.
Now a tiger was ready to pounce upon
me. At one moment I thought my
breast was full of animals. I asked a
young man to drag them out, which he
did ', and every time he drew one out,
a horrid sensation of faintness came
over me. At length I discovered that
all these horrid sensations of sawing
and fl-aying, &c., were occasioned by
efforts to wake me up.
Iam sometimes asked whether the
illusions of the delirium tremens are not
429
237
J EWS.

always distressing. They are not. At
one time I had about five hours of per-
fect happiness. The asparagus bush
which was used to brush off the flies,
seemed to me exceedingly beautiful. It
was full of the birds of Paradise, and
my ears were enraptured with the most
delightful music.
But in general the illusion is of the
most horrid character. At one time I
thought my companions were assaulting
me with hooks, which they endeavored
to strike into my flesh. I stood on the
defence in the centre of the room for
seven hours, fighting with all my might
until the sweat from my body stood in
puddles on the floor. On another oc-
casion I thought my watchers were en-
deavoring to murder me. I sprang from
my bed and ran out, my pulse 170 a
minute, and Iwas brought to death’s
door. For 18 daysl endured the ut-
most horror of mind. Three times my
case was given over as hopeless.’7

(0 GOOD REASON FOR SO
BR] “TY.—A gentleman on entering a
stage coach, rubbing his head, with a
yawn said, “My head aches dread-
fully; I was very drunk last night.”
A person affecting surprise, replied,
“Drunk, sir! what! do you get
drunk '2” “ Yes,” said he, “and so
does every one at times, I believe. I
have no doubt but you do.” “ No, sir !”
he replied, “I do not.” “What! ne-
ver?” “No, never; and amongst other
reasons I have for it, one is, I never
find, being sober, that I have too much
sense; and I am loth to lose what little
Ihave.” This remark put an end to
the conversation.
(d) LAW OF PITTACUS.-—By
one of the laws of Pittacus, one of the
seven wise men of Greece, every fault
committed by a person when intoxicat-
ed, was deemed worthy of a double
punishment.
237. J EWS.
(a) THE RABBPS CALCULA-
TION.—Dr. South informs us, that a
Rabbi, who lived about fifty years be-
fore Christ, upon the consideration of
Jacob’s prophecy, Gen. xlix. 10, and of
Daniel’s seventy weeks, (Dan. ix.) said,
that it was impossible for the coming of
the Messiah to be deferred beyond fifty
years; a proportion of time vastly dif-
ferent from that of eighteen hundred.
(6) A QUESTION FOR J EVVS.——
Bishop Patrick quotes the following af-
fecting inquiry addressed by Rabbi Sa-
muel Moraccanus to a friend in the
eleventh century :
“I would fain learn from thee, out
of the testimonies of the law, and the
prophets, and other scriptures, why the
Jews are thus smitten in this captivity
wherein we are, which may be properly
termed THE PERPETUAL ANGER or G01),
because it hath no end. For it is now
above a thousand years since we were
carried captive by Titus ; and yet our
fathers, who worshipped idols, killed the
Prophets, and cast the law behind their
back, were only punished with a seven-
430
ty years’ captivity and then brought
home again : but now there is no end of
our calamities, nor do the prophets
promise any.
“If,” says Bishop Patrick, “ this ar-
gument was hard to be answered then,
in his days, it is much harder in ours,
who still see them pursued by God’s
vengeance; which can be for nothing
else but rejecting and crucifying the
Messiah, the Saviour of the world.”
(0) THE RABBPS ADMISSIONS.
—A learned rabbi of the Jews, at Alep-
po, being dangerously ill, called his
friends together, and desired them seri-
ously to consider the various former
captivities endured by their nation, as a
punishment for the hardness of their
hearts, and their present captivity,
which was continued sixteen hundred
years, “the occasion of which,” said
he, “is doubtless our unbelief.” We
have long looked for the Messiah, and
the Christians have believed in one Je-
sus, of our nation. who was of the seed
of Abraham and David, and born in
Bethlehem, and for aught we know,
I
J EWS.
may be the true Messiah ; and we may
have suffered this long captivity be-
cause we have rejected him. There-
fore my advice is, as my last words,
that if the Messiah, which we expect,
do not come at or about the year 1860,
reckoning from the birth of their Christ,
then you may know and believe that
this Jesus is the Christ, and you shall
have no other.’7
(rl) THE LEIPSIC STUDENT.——
A poor student, of the university of
Leipsic, having occasion to undertake
a journey to his distant friends, was in
want of the money needful for thepur-
pose, and was compelled to go to a Jew,
to pawn his Hebrew Bible and Greek
Testament. The latter contained the
Greek and German text in opposite co-
.umns. The Jew, little as he valued
this book, was prevailed on to give the
student half a rix-dollar for it. During
tin absence of the student he deter-
mined to read it through, with a view
of confirming his enmity against Jesus,
and to be the better prepared to testify
his zeal for the Jewish faith. He con-
cealed it from his family, and com-
menced its perusal, which, as the young
man was absent seven weeks, he had
time to do. As he read, he was sur-
prised and impressed, and at times was
ready to exclaim, “ Oh that Jesus was
my Saviour I ” When he had gone
through the book, he was greatly per-
plexed and astonished, that he had been
able to find nothing to increase his ha-
tred to Jesus, but had rather discov-
ered much that was sublime and heav-
enly. He now charged himself with
folly, and resolved to open the book no
more. He adhered to this resolution for
several days, but was soon compelled to
peruse it a second time, with the deter-
mination to be more careful in ascer-
taining that Jesus and his apostles had
deserved the hatred of Jews in all ages.
Still he was unable to find what he
wished; while he was impressed with
the consolation it imparted to the afflict-
ed, and the immortality of glory it re-
vealed, which seemed to remove the
anxiety he had long felt on this subject.
He was compelled a third time to read

237
a_
the book ; and now the history, the doc-
trines, and the promises of Jesus des-
troyed his opposition, and melted his
soul. He was overcome to tears, and
resolved on embracing the doctrines of
the cross. He announced his change
to a Christian minister, purchased the
New Testament of the student,to whom
he became a warmly attached friend,
and continued to give evidences of being
a consistent Christian.
(e) THE TRANSLATOR CON-
VERTED.—VVhen the Rev. Claudius
Buchanan was traveling in India, he
obtained from the Jews in the interior
of that country a very singular copy of
the translation of the New Testament
into Hebrew, made in the sixteenth cen-
tury. The translatcr was a learned rab-
bi, and the translation is, in general,
faithful. The design of the translator
was to make an accurate version of the
New Testament for the express purpose
of confuting it, and of repelling the ar-
guments of his neighbors, the Syrian
or St. Thomé Christians. But behold
the providence of God ! the translator
became a convert to Christianity 3 his
own work subdued his unbelief; and
he lived and died in the faith of Christ.
This manuscript is now in the public
library at Cambridge.
(f) DEATH-BED OF THE JEW.
-—ln his interesting work, “ Judah and
Israel,” Mr. Frey, a converted Jew, and
who for more than forty years has la-
bored among the people as a minister of
the gospel, says ; “ F or seven long
years, while ofliciating Rabbi in the
synagogue, it was my painful lot to at-
tend the sick and dying; and while I
found all of them sensible of their being
sinners, and exposed to the wrath of
God, I never found one saying, like good
old Simeon, ‘Now, Lord, lettest thou
thy servant depart in peace, for mine
eyes have seen thy salvation.’ ”
( g) ROCHESTER’S CON FES-
Sl()N.—-The celebrated Lord Roches-
ter had lived a long while in infidelity,
but there was one argument in favor of
Christianity which he declared he could
never set aside, namely: the existing
state and circumstances of the Jews.
431
935
JUDGMENT DAY.

238. JUDGMENT DAY.
(0) THE DARK DAY AND THE
LEGISLATCR.—The 19th of May,
1788, was remarkably dark in Connec-
ticut. Candles were lighted in many
houses; the birds were silent, and dis-
appeared ; the domestic fowls retired to
roost. The people were impressed by
the idea that the day of judgment was
at hand. This opinion was entertained
by the legislature, at that time sitting at
Hartford. The house of representa-
tives adjourned: the council proposed
to follow the example. Colonel Daven-
port objected. “The day of judgment,”
he said, “is either approaching. or it is
not. If it is not, there is no cause for
an adjournment: if it is, I choose to be
found doing my duty. I wish, there-
fore, that candles may be brought.’7
(b) CI-IlLD"S DREAM OF THE
JUDGMENT. —— The Rev. Herbert
Mends, of Plymouth, Eng., speaking of
his early religious impressions, says:
“ If any particular circumstance might
be considered as making a more deep,
lasting, and serious impression, than
others, it was a dream which I had
when at school at Ottery. Ifelt the
apprehension of the approach of the last
great judgment day. I well remember
all the attending circumstances; and
observed that they were perfectly cor-
responding to the description of that
awful event recorded in the Gospel of
Matthew. After I had perceived vast
multitudes of the human race appearing
before the throne of Christ, some being
approved and others rejected, I at length
beheld my beloved father and mother,
and several of the family, summoned to
appear. Great agitation was awakened
in my breast; but I heard them distinct-
ly examined, and as distinctly heard the
Judge say, ‘ Well done,” &c. At this
period, my whole soul was filled with
horror indescribable, being conscious
that I was not prepared to pass my final
scrutiny. At length my name was an-
nounced, and I felt all the agonies of a
mind fully expecting to be banished from
the presence of God, and the glory of
his power. The Judge then, with a
stern countenance, and in langu. 0"e
which struck me with mingled shame
and hope, said, ‘ Well, what sayest
thou '2’ I fell at his feet, and implored
mercy, and prayed, ‘ Lord, spare me
yet a little longer, and when thou shalt
call for me again, I hope to be ready.’
IVith a smile, which tranquilized my
spirits, the Lord replied, " G0, then, and
improve the time given thee.’ The ex-
treme agitation of my mind awoke me.
But so deep was the impression, that I
have never forgotten it.”
(c ) CONFIDENCE OF JANE
WAY.——“I remember,” says the wri-
ter of Mr. John J aneway’s life, “once
there was a great talk that one had fore-
told that doomsday should be on such a
day. Although he blamed their daring
folly that could pretend to know that
which was hid, yet, granting their sus-
picion to be true, what then? said he;
what if the day of judgment were come,
as it will most certainly come shortly‘?
If I were sure the day of judgment
were to come within an hour, I should
be glad with all my heart. If, at this
very instant, I should hear such thun-
derings, and see such lightenings as Is-
rael did at Mount Sinai, I am persuad-
ed my very heart would leap for joy.
But this I am confident of, through in-
finite mercy, that the very meditation
of that day hath even ravished my
soul; and the thought of the certainty
and nearness of it, is more refreshing
to me than the comforts of the whole
world.”
432
JUSTICE AND EQUITY.
M -..--.--n u -
239
239. JUSTICE AND EQUITY.
(a) SOCRATES AND CHERL
GLES.--While Athens was governed
by thirty tyrants, Socrates the philoso-
pher was summoned to the senate-house,
and ordered to go with some other per-
sons they named, to seize one Leon, a
man of rank and fortune, whom they
determined to put out of the way, that
they might enjoy his estate. This com-
mission Socrates flatly refused, and, not
satisfied therewith, added his reasons for
such refusal: “I will never willingly
assist an unjust act.” Chericles sharp-
ly replied, “Dost thou think, Socrates,
to talk always in this high style, and not
to suffer “Z” “ Far from it,” added he 5
“I expect to suffer a thousand ills, but
none so great as to do unjustly.”
(b) THEMISTOCLES’ PROJECT.
—-Themistocles having conceived the
design of transferring the government
of Greece from the hands of the Lace_
demonians, into those of the Athenians,
kept his thoughts continually fixed on this
great project. Being at no time very nice
or scrupulous in the choice of his meas-
ures, he thought any thing Which could
tend to the accomplishment of the end
he had in view, just and lawful. In an
assembly of the people one day, he ac-
cordingly intimated that he had a very
important design to propose, but he could
not communicate it to the people at large,
because the greatest secrecy was neces—
sary to its success ; he therefore desired
that they would appoint a person to whom
he might explain himself on the subject.
Aristides was unanimously pitched upon
oy the assembly, who referred them-
selves entirely to his opinion of the af-
fair. Themistocles taking him aside,
told him that the design he had conceiv-
ed, was to burn the fleet belonging to
the rest of the Grecian states, which
then lay in a neighboring port, when
Athens would assuredly become mis-
tress of all Greece. Aristides returned
to the assembly, and declared to them,
that nothing could be more advantageous
to the commonwealth, than the project
ef Themistocles ; but that, at the same

time, nothing in the world could be more
unfair. Without inquiring further, the
assembly unanimously declared, that
since such was the case, Themistocles
should wholly abandon his project.
(0) CONSCIENTIOUS JUDGE.——Sir
Matthew Hale, when chief baron of the
exchequer, was very exact and impar_
tial in his administration of justice. He
would never receive any private ad-
dresses or recommendations from the
greatest persons in any matter in which
justice was concerned. One of the first
peers of England went once to his
chamber, and told him “that, having
a suit in law to be tried before him, he
was then to acquaint him with it, that
he might the better understand it when
it should come to be heard in court.”
Upon which Sir Matthew interrupted
him, and said “ he did not deal fairly
to come to his chamber about such af-
fairs, for he never received any infor-
mation of causes but in open court,
where both parties were to be heard
alike,” so he would not suffer him to go
on. Whereupon his grace (for he was
a duke) went away not a little dissatis~
tied, and complained of it to the king as
a rudeness that was not to be endur-
ed. But his majesty bade him content
himself that he was no worse used,
and said “ he verily believed he would
have used himself no better if he had
gone to solicit him in any of his own
causes.”
Another passage fell out in one of his
circuits, which was somewhat censured
as an affcctation of unreasonable strict-
ness; but it flowed from the exactness
of the rules he had set himself. A
gentleman had sent him a buck for his
table that had a trial at the assizes; so,
when he heard his name, he asked “ if
he was not the same person that had
sent him venison.” And finding that
he was the same, he told him “ he
could not suffer the trial to go on till he
had paid him for his buck.” To which
the gentleman answered “that he never
sold his venison, and that he had done
28
433
939
JUSTICE AND EQUITY.
nothing to him Which he did not do to
every judge that had gene that circuit,”
which was confirmed by several gentle-
men then present; but all would not do,
for the lord chiefbaron had learned from
Solomon that “ a gift perverteth the ways
of judgment,” and therefore he would
not suffer the trial to go on till he had
paid for the present; upon which the
gentleman withdrew the record. And
at Salisbury, the dean and chapter
having, according to custom, presented
him with six sugar leaves in his circuit,
he made his servants pay for the sugar
before he would try their cause.
(cl) ARISTIDES IN JUDGMENT.
——Aristides being judge between two
private persons, one of them declared
that his adversary had greatly injured
Aristides. “ Relate rather, good friend,”
said he, interrupting him, “ what wrong
he hath done to thee, for it is thy cause,
not mine, that I now sit judge of.”
(e) BANISHMENT OF ARIS-
TIDES.-—A tragedy by rEsehylus was
once represented before the Athenians,
in which it was said of one of the charac-
ters, “ that he cared not more to be just
than to appear so.” At these words all
eyes were instantly turned upon Aris-
tides as the man who, of all the Greeks,
most merited that distinguished charac-
ter. Ever after he received, by uni-
versal consent, the surname of the Just;
a title, says Plutarch, truly royal, or,
rather, truly divine. This remarkable
distinction roused envy, and envy pre-
vailed so far as to procure his banish-
ment for ten years upon the unjust sus-
picion that his influence with the people
was dangerous_to their freedom. When
the sentence was passed by his country-
men, Aristides himself was present in
the midst of them, and a stranger who
stood near, and could not write, applied
to him to write for him in his shell.
“ VVhat name ?” asked the philosopher.
“ Aristides,” replied the stranger. “ Do
you know him, then,” said Aristides,
“or has he in any way injured you Cl”
“Neither,” said the other; “ but it is
for this very thing I would he were con-
demned. I can go nowhere but l hear
of Aristides the Just.” Aristides in-
quired no further, but took the shell and
wrote his name in it as desired.

The absence of Aristides soon dissi-
pated the apprehensions which his
countrymen had so idly imbibed. He
was in a short time recalled, and for
many years after took a leading part
in the afiairs of the republic, without
showing the least resentment against his
enemies, or seeking any other gratifi-
cation than that of serving his country
with fidelity and honor. His disregard
for money was strikingly manifested at
his death ; for though he was frequent-
ly treasurer as well as general, he
scarcely left sufiicient to defray the ex-
penses of his burial. '
The virtues of Aristides did not pass
without reward. He had two daughters,
who were educated at the expense of
the state, and to whom portions were
allotted from the public treasury.
LOCKE’S RESlGNATlON.—--
The integrity of this great man was
eminently displayed on several ocea-
sions; but the following event, which
closed his political life, is worthy of
particular notice :—-
After the English revolution of 1688,
his high name and merits opened to him
the prospect of honor and riches, which,
however, he declined. King William
III pressed him to go on an embassy to
one of the principal courts in Europe,
which he respectfully refused. His
majesty then appointed him to a seat as
one of the commissioners of the Board
of Trade and Plantations. This post,
which was perfectly suited to his talents,
he held for some years; but, at length,
when the air of London was found to
disagree with his health, he resigned
the place to the king in person, saying,
that his conscience would not permit
him to retain a situation the duties of
which he could not discharge. The
king entreated him to continue in it,
telling him that though he could stay in
London but a few weeks, his services
would be very necessary. Mr. Locke,
however, persisted in his resolution;
thus relinquishing one thousand pounds
a year, which he might have kept till
his death. When he was told by a
friend that he might have made a com-
position with any new candidate, and
thereby have gained some advantage
without giving up the whole income, he
434
JUSTICE AND EQUITY.
239
_--—_.-

replied, “I know it very well, that I
might have done so; and that was the
very reason whyI did not communicate
my design to any one. I received my
commission directly from the king, and
to him I resolved to restore it, that he
might have the pleasure of bestowing it
upon some worthy man better able to
fulfil the duties than myself.”
(g) MORVILLIERS AN D
CHARLES IX.-—Morvilliers, keeper
of the seals to Charles the Ninth of
France, was one day ordered by his
sovereign to put the seals to the pardon
of a nobleman who had committed mur-
der. He refused. The king then took
the seals out of his hands, and having
put them himself to the instrument of
remission, returned them immediately to
Morvilliers; who refused to take them
again, saying, “The seals have twice
put me in a situation of great honor;
once when I received them, and again
when I resigned them.”
(It) LOUIS XIV AND HIS CHAN-
CELLOR.—-Louis the Fourteenth had
granted a pardon to a nobleman who
had committed some very great crime.
M. Voisin, the chancellor, ran to him in
his closet, and exclaimed, “Sire, you
cannot pardon a person in the situation
ofMr. .” “ I have promised him,”
replied the king, who was ever impa-
tient of contradiction; “ go and fetch
the great seal.” “ But, sire,”-—“ Pray,
sir, do as I order you.” The chancel-
lor returns with the seals; Louis ap-
plies them himself to the instrument,
containing the pardon, and gives them
again to the chancellor. “They are
polluted now, sire,” exclaims the intre-
pid and excellent magistrate, pushing
them from him on the table, “ I cannot
take them again.” “ What an im-
practicable man I” cries the monarch,
and throws the pardon into the fire. “ I
will now, sire, take them again,” said
the chancellor; “the fire, you know,
purifies every thing.”
(2') ANOTHER BRUTUS.-In the
reign of Henry the Eighth, Fitz-Stephen,
merchant, Mayor of Galway, sent his
only son, as commander of a ship, to
Spain, for a cargo of wine. The son
kept the money for the purchase of the
cargo ; and the Spa! ish merchant, who

supplied the wine, sent his nephew to
receive the debt. To conceal his fraud,
young F itz-Stephen conceived the plan
of murdering the Spaniard; a project1
in which he brought the crew to com-
bine. The Spaniard was seized in bed,
thrown overboard, and the ship arrived
in port.
Some time after, one of the sailors
was taken ill, and, being at the point of
death, confessed the horrid deed in
which he had participated. The father,
though struck with horror, shook off the
parent, and said, “ Justice should take
its course.” And, as mayor he caused
his son to be committed, with the rest
of the crew, and the father, like Brutus,
sat in judgment on his son, and with his
own lips pronounced the sentence which
left him childless !
FITZ-JAMES AND HIS
SOVEREIGN.——It is said of Sir John
Fitz-James, that the instant he was
seated on the bench, he lost all recollec-
tion of his best friends, that would in the
least degree have interfered with the ad-
ministration of justice. A relation once
solicited a favor of him. “ Come to my
house,” said he, “ and I will deny you
nothing; but in the king’s court I must
do you justice.” The attorney-general
was weak and criminal enough to request
his interest on the part of the king, in
a cause to be tried before him. “I will
do the king right,” he replied. A ver-
dict was given against the crown, and
the attorney-general expostulated with
Fitz-James, who dismissed the subject
by adding, “I could not do his majesty
right, if I had not done justice.”
(It) THE MONARCH AND THE
MILLER.—-Near Potsdam (Prussia),
in the reign of Frederick King of Prus-
sia, was a mill which interfered with a
view from the windows of Sans Souci.
Annoyed by this inconvenience to his
favorite residence, the king sent to in-
quire the price for which the mill would
be sold by the owner. “ For no price,”
was the reply of the sturdy Prussian;
and, in a moment of anger, Frederick
gave orders that the mill should be pull-
ed down. “ The king may do this,”
said the miller, quietly folding his arms,
“but there are laws in Prussia ;” and
forthwith be commenced proceedi ngs
435
239
JUSTICE AND EQUITY.

\._--9--__ _
against the monarch, the result of which
was, the court sentenced Frederick to
rebuild the mill, and to pay besides a
large sum of money as compensation
for the injury which he had done. The
king was mortified, but had the magna-
nimity to say, addressing himself to his
courtiers, “I am glad to find that just
laws and upright judges exist in my
kingdom.” A few years ago, the head
of the honest miller’s family, who had
in due course of time succeeded to
the hereditary possession of his little
estate, finding himself, after a long
struggle with losses occasioned by the
war, which brought ruin into many a
house besides his own, involved in pe-
cuniary difliculties that had become in-
surmountable, wrote to the then king of
Prussia, reminding him of the refusal
experienced by Frederick the Great at
the hands of his ancestor, and stating
that, if his majesty now entertained a
similar desire to obtain possession of the
property, it would be very agreeable
to him, in his present embarrassed cir-
cumstances, to sell the mill. The king
immediately wrote, with his own hand,
the following reply :—-
“ My dear neighbor ;——I cannot allow
you to sell the mill ; it must remain in
your possession as long as one member
of your family exists; for it belongs to
the history of Prussia. I lament, how-
ever, to hear that you are in circum-
stances of embarrassment; and there-
fore send you 6000 dollars (about £1000
sterling) to arrange your affairs, in the
hope that this sum will be sufficient for
the purpose. Consider me always your
affectionate neighbor,
“FREDERICK WILLIAM.”
( Z ) THE EFFECTUAL APPEAL.
—-It is related of Philip, King of the Ma-
cedonians, that while one was pleading
before him, he dropped asleep, and, wak-
ing on a sudden, passed sentence against
the righteous cause: upon this the in-
jured person cried out, “ I appeal.”
The king, with indignation, asked, “ To
whom '2” He replied, “ From yourself
sleeping to yourself waking ;” and had
-----~ --_§
the judgment reversed that was against
him.
(m) PARDON REFUSED TO
ROYAL BLOOD.—When aprince of
the blood royal of France disgraced nim
self, by committing robbery and mur-
der in the streets of Paris, Louis XV
would not grant a pardon, though eager-
ly solicited to do so by a deputation from
the Parliament of Paris, who tried him,
and suspended their sentence until the
royal pleasure should be known. “ My
lords and counsellors,” said the king,
“ return to your chambers of justice,
and promulgate your decree.” “ Con-
sider,” said the first president, “that
the unhappy prince has your majesty’s
blood in his veins.” “Yes,” said the
king, “ but the blood has become im-
pure, and justice demands that it should
be let out ; nor would I spare my own
son for a crime, for which I should be
bound to condemn the meanest of my
subjects.” The prince was executed
on the scaffold in the court of the grand
Chatelet, on the 12th of August, 1729.
(n) HENRY V AND THE JUDGE.
—-One of the favorites of King Henry
V, when Prince of Wales, having been
indicted for some misdemeanor, was
condemned, notwithstanding all the
interest he could make in his favor;
and the Prince was so incensed at the
issue of the trial that he struck the
judge on the bench. This magistrate,
whose name was Sir William Gascoign,
acted with a spirit becoming his char-
acter. He instantly ordered the Prince
to be committed to prison; and young
Henry, sensible by this time of the in-
sult he had offered to the laws of his
country, suffered himself to be quietly
conducted to jail by the officers of jus-
tice. The king, Henry IV, who was
an excellent judge of mankind, was no
sooner informed of this transaction,
than he cried out in a transport of joy,
“Happy is the king who has a magis-
trate possessed of courage to execute
the laws; and still more happy in hav..
ing a son who will submit to such chas-
tisement.”
436
IUSTIFICATION BY FAITH.
210
-4 _— Q.--u->-.___-_--
240. JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH.
(a) HERVEY’S RECANTATION.
-“ If it be shameful to renounce er-
” 11',” says Mr. Hervey, “ and sacrifice
u'l to truth, I do very willingly take this
sname to myself, in a copy of verses
which I formerly wrote, sacred to the
memory of a generous benefactor. I
remember the following lines:
“ Our wants reheved by thy indulgent care
Shall gwe thee courage at the dreadful bar,
And stud the crown thou shalt for ever wear.”
These lines, in whatever hands they
are lodged, and whatever else of a like
kind may have dropt from my pen,I
now publicly disclaim; they are the
very reverse of my present belief, in
which I hope to persevere as long as I
have any being. Far be it from me to
suppose that any work of mine should,
in order to create my peace, or cherish
my confidence, be coupled with Christ’s
most holy acts. I speak the words of
our church, and I speak the sense of
the prophet, “I will trust, and not be
afraid ;” wherefore’.Z because I am in-
herently holy ’? rather God is my salva-
tion; God manifest in the flesh has
finished my transgression, and made an
end of my sin ; and in this most magni-
ficent work will I rejoice. Thy Maker
is thy husband: the consequence of
which is, all thy debts and deficiencies
are upon him, all his consummate right-
eousness is upon thee.”
(Z2) LIBERTY IN DUNGEON.-—
Mr. Fleming, in his Fulfilling of the
Scriptures, relates the case of a man
who was a very great sinner, and for
his horrible wickedness was put to death
in the town of Ayr, Scotland. This
man had been so stupid and brutish a
fellow, that all who knew him thought
him beyond the reach of all ordinary
means of grace; but while the man
was in prison, the Lord wonderfully

wreught on his heart, and in such a
measure discovered to him his sinful-
ness, that after much serious exercise
and sore wrestling, a most kindly work
of repentance followed, with great as-
surance of mercy, insomuch, that when
he came to the place of execution, he
could not cease crying out to the people,
under the sense of pardon, and the com-
forts of the presence and favor of God:
“ 0, He is a great forgiver! He is a
great forgiver!” And he added the
following words: “Now hath perfect
love cast out fear. I know God hath
nothing to lay against me, for Jesus
Christ hath paid all; and those are
free whom the Son makes free.’ ’
(0) A GLORIOUS POSITION.—-
Mr. Lyford, a Puritan divines a few
days previous to his dissolution, being
desired by his friends to give them some
account of his hopes and comforts, he
replied, “I will let you know how it is
with me, and on what ground I stand.
Here is the grave, the wrath of God,
and devouring flames, the great punish-
ment of sin, on the one hand ; and here
am I, a poor sinful creature, on the
other; but this is my comfort, the co-
venant of grace, established upon so
many sure promises, hath satisfied all.
The act of oblivion passed in heaven is,
“ I will forgive their iniquities, and their
sins will I remember no more, saith the
Lord.” This is the blessed privilege
of all within the covenant, of whom I
am one. For I find the Spirit which is
promised, bestowed upon me, in the
blessed effects of it upon my soul, as the
pledge of God’s eternal love. By this
I know my interest in Christ, who is the
foundation of the covenant ; and there-
fore my sins being laid on him, shall
never be charged on me.”
437
Q41
KINDNESS, CC NJUGAL.

241. KINDNESS, CONJUGAL.
(a) “I WILL NEVER LEAVE
YOU.”-—-The wife of a pious man
told him one day, that if he did not
give over running after the missionaries,
a name often applied in the neighbor-
hood where this event occurred, to
Christian ministers of different denomi-
nations, she would certainly leave him.
Finding that he continued obstinate,
she on one occasion sent for him from
the harvest-field, and informed him that
she was about to carry her threats into
execution 5 and that before she left the
house, she wished some articles to be
divided, to prevent future disputes. She
first produced a web of linen, which she
insisted should be divided. “ No, no,”
said the husband; “ you have been,
upon the whole, a good wife to me: if
you will leave me, though the thought
greatly distresses me, you must take
the whole with you ; you well deserve
it all.” The same answer was given
to a similar proposal respecting some
other articles. At last, the wife said,
“So you Wish me to leave you ?”
“Far from that,” said the husband; “I
would do anything, but sin, to make
you stay ; but if you will go, I wish you
to go in comfort.” “ Then,” said she,
“you have overcome me by your kind-
ness; I will never leave you.”
(6) THE MIDNIGHT SUPPER.
-—A married woman was effectually
called by Divine grace, and became
an exemplary Christian; but her hus-
band was a lover of sinful pleasure.
When spending an evening, as usual,
with his jovial companions, at a tavern,
the conversation happened to turn on
the excellencies and faults of their
wives; the husband just mentioned
pronounced the highest encomiums on
his wife, saying she was all that was
excellent, only she was a Methodist,
“ Notwithstanding which,” said he,
“such is the command which she has
of her temper, that were I to take you,
gentlemen, home with me at midnight,
and order her to rise and get you a
mnher six would be all submission and

cheerfulness !” The company regarded
this merely as a vain boast, and dared
him to make the experiment, by a con-
siderable wager. The bargain was
made, and about midnight the company
adjourned, as proposed. Being admit-
ted, “Where is your mistress?” said
the husband to the maid-servant, who
sat up for him, “She is gone to bed,
sir.” “ Call her up,” said he. “Tell
her I have brought some friends home
with me, and that I desire she would
get up, and prepare them a supper.”
The good woman obeyed the unreason-
able summons; dressed, came down,
and received the company with perfect
civility: told them she happened to
have some chickens ready for the spit,
and that supper should be got as soon
as possible. It was accordingly served
up, when she performed the honors of
the table with as much cheerfulness as
if she had expected company at the pro-
per season.
After supper, the guests could not
refrain from expressing their astonish-
ment. One of them particularly, more
sober than the rest, thus addressed him-
self to the lady: “Madam,” said he,
“your civility fills us all with surprise.
Our unreasonable visit is the conse-
quence of a wager, which we have
certainly lost. As you are a very re-
ligious person, and cannot, therefore,
approve of our conduct, give me leave
to ask, what can possibly induce you to
behave with so much kindness to us '2”
“ Sir,” replied she, “ when I married,
my husband and myself were both un-
converted. It has pleased God to call
me out of that dangerous condition. My
husband continues in it. I tremble for
his future state. Were he to die as he
is, he must be miserable for ever; I
think it, therefore, my duty to render
his present existence as comfortable as
possible.”
This wise and faithful reply affected
the whole company. It left a deep im-
pression on the husband’s mind. “ Do
you, my dear,” said he, “ really think
438
KINDNESS, CONJUGAL.
241
v—
I should be eternally miserable’.Z I
thank you for the warning. By the
grace of God, I will change my con-
duct.” From that time he became
another man, a serious Christian, and
consequently, a good husband.
(0) A REFORMED WIFE.-—A
man once came to the Rev. Jonathan
Scott, of Matlock, (Eng) complaining
of his wife. He said she was so ex-
ceedingly ill-tempered, and so studious-
ly tormented him in such a variety of
ways, that she was the great burden of
his life; and, notwithstanding all the
kind methods he had used to bring her
to a better disposition, she was not at all
improved, but grew continually worse
and worse. Mr. Scott exhorted him
to try what a redoubled affection and
kindness would do; observing to him,
that the command of Scripture to hus-
bands was, “to love their wives,”
and that “even as Christ loved the
church.”
This advice did not appear to satisfy
the man; and he went away much de-
jected, resolving, however, if possible,
to follow it; since, though it had not
hitherto succeeded, he could not but
consider it as founded on the word of
God. He accordingly increased his
attention; and, as an instance of his
kindness, the next Saturday evening
brought to his wife his whole week’s
wages, and, with an affectionate smile,
threw them into her lap, begging her
entire disposal of them. This did not
succeed: she threw the wages in a
passion, accompanied with many bitter
execrations, at his head; and after-
wards continued in the practice of every
spiteful and malicious trick that she
could devise, or, according to the poor
man’s own conclusion, that Satan him-
self could suggest, to make his life
miserable.
Some years elapsed, during which he
sustained, as patiently as he could, this
wicked and undutiful treatment, when
Providence favored him with another
interview with his kind friend, Mr.
Scott. This happened, most opportune-
ly, at a titne when a neighbor had been
giving him a supposed recipe for the
cure of refractory wives; and, as a
strong recommendation, mentioned that

he had tried it on his own wife with the
happiest effects. The man 'herefore
came to Mr. Scott with a cou1tenance
bespeaking a considerable degree of
confidence, which led Mr. Scott, at first,
to hope that his former advice had
proved successful ; but he was soon
mformed that, through the extremely
vicious disposition of the woman, it had
operated in a way precisely the reverse
of what was expected from it. Upon
being asked, why then he smiled and
looked so pleasantly, he said, he believ-
ed he had really found out a remedy,
which, if it should meet Mr. Scott’s ap-
probation, would not fail of effecting a
cure ; for it had been tried by a neigh-
bor of his on a wife, who, though she
had been in all respects as bad as his,
was, by one application only, become
one of the most obedient and affectionate
creatures living. “And what is this
excellent remedy ?” said Mr. Scott.
“ Why, sir, it is a good horse-whipping I
You hear, sir, what good effects have
been produced: do you think I may
venture to try it ?”
Mr. Scott replied, “I read, my friend,
nothing about husbands horse-whipping
their wives in the Bible, but just the
reverse; namely, love, which I before
recommended ; and I can by no means
alter the word of God : but I doubt not,
if you persevere, it will be attended with
a happy result:” this advice was ac-
companied with exhortations to more
earnest prayer. The man, though he
left Mr. Scott both with a mind and
countenance very different from those
with which he came, resolved to follow
his direction, as his esteem for him was
very great; and Providence calling Mr.
Scott .ome time after to preach at Bir-
mingham, his old friend, who then re-
sided there, came into the vestry to him
after he had concluded the service, and
with a countenance expressive of exalt-
ed happiness, said, that he should have
reason to bless God through eternity for
the advice he had given him; and that
he had not been induced, by his weak
importunities, to alter or relax it; ad-
ding that h1s wife who then stood
smiling with a\e"o*\'1t1on bv his side.
was not only n c'\r~~e a cmverted wo-
man, througl‘ a blessing or his kind
1.39
B41, 2 l2
KIIN DNESS, POWER OF.

attentions to her, but was one of
the most affectionate and dutiful of
wives.
( d ) UNKIND HUSBAND RE-
FORMED.-—-A decent countrywoman,
says an English divine, came to me one
market day, and begged to speak with
me. She told me with an air of secre-
cy, that her husband behaved unkindly
to her, and sought the company of other
women: and that knowing me to be a
wise man, I could tell what would cure
him. “ The remedy is simple,” said I ;
always treat your husband wiih a smile. ”
Phe woman thanked me, dropped a cur-
tesy, and went away. A few months
after, she came again, bringing a couple
of fine fowls. She told me with great sa-
tisfaction, that I had cured her husband ;
and she begged my acceptance of the
fowls in return. I was pleased with

the success of my prescription, but re-
fused the fee.
(e) THE PERSECUTOR’S KIND
WIFE.-—-As Iwas conversing, says a
writer in the New-York Observer, with
a pious old man, I inquired what were
the means of his conversion. For a
moment he paused—I perceived I had
touched a tender string. Tears rushed
from his eyes, while with deep emotion
he replied, “My wife was brought to
God some years before myself. I per-
secuted and abused her because of her
religion. She, however, returned noth-
ing but kindness; constantly manifest-
ing an anxiety to promote my comfort
and happiness ; and it was her amiable
conduct, when suffering ill-treatment
from me, that first sent the arrows of
conviction to my soul. “ Temper,”
added he, “ is every thing.”
242. KINDNESS, POWER OF.
ta) PINEL AND THE LUNA-
TICS.-—In 1792, Pinel, who had been
for some time chief physician to the Bi-
cetre, or mad-house of Paris, begged re-
peatedly of the public authorities, to let
him remove the chains from the furious.
His applications having been unsuccess-
ful, he presented himself before the
commune of Paris, and repeating his
objections with increased warmth, urged
a reform of such monstrous treatment.
“ Citizen,” said one of the members to
him, “I will to-morrow go to visit the
Bicetre ; but we betide thee, if thou de-
ceivest us, and concealest any of the
enemies of the people amongst thy in-
sane?’
This member of the commune was
Couthon. The next day he went to the
Bicetre. Couthon was himself as strange
a spectacle as any whom he visited. De-
prived of the use of his lower extremi-
ties, and compelled to be borne on the
arms of others, he appeared, says Pine‘,
t fraction of humanity implanted on
mother’s body ; and from out of this
teformity, pronounced in a feeble and
' aminine voice, merciless sentences pro-
weded, sentences of death ; for death
was the only logic that then prevailed.

Couthon visited the insane in succession,
and questioned them himself ; but he
received only imprecations amidst the
clanking of chains on floors disgustingly
filthy from the evacuations of the miser-
able occupants. Fatigued with the mo-
notony and revolting character of this
spectacle, Couthon returned to Pinel.
“Citizen,” said he, “art thou thyself
mad to desire to unchain such animals '2”
“Citizen,” replied Pinel, “I am con-
vinced that these lunatics are intractable
only from being deprived of air and liber-
ty, and I expect much from a different
course.” “ Well,” said Couthon, “ do
as thou likcst ; I leave them to thee;
but I am afraid thou wilt fall a victim
to thy presumption.”
Master of his own actions, Pinel im-
mediately commenced his undertaking,
fully aware of its real difficulties; for
he was going to set at liberty about fifty
furious maniacs, without injurious or
dangerous consequences, as he hoped,
to the other peaceable inmates of the
establishment. He determined to un-
chain no more than twelve at the first
trial ; and the only precaution he took,
was to have an equal number of strait
jackets prepared, made of strong linen
440
KINDNESS,
POWER OF. 242

1
With long sleeves, which could be tied
behind the back of the maniac, should
it become necessary to restrict him from
committing acts of violence.
The first person to whom Pinel ad-
dressed himself, had been a resident for
the longest period in this abode of mise-
ry. He was an English captain, whose
_ history was unknown, but who had been
chained there for forty years. He was
looked upon as the most terrible of all
the insane. His attendants always ap-
proached him with circumspection; for
in a paroxysm of fury, he had struck
one of the servants on the head with his
manacles, and killed him on the spot.
He was confined with more rigor than
many of the others, which circumstance,
combined with almost total neglect on
the part of the keepers, had exasperated
a disposition naturally furious. Pinel
entered his cell alone, and approached
him calmly. “ Captain,” said he, “ if I
were to remove your chains, and to give
you liberty to walk in the court, would
you promise me to be rational, and do
harm to no one '2” “I promise thee.
But thou mockest me; they, as well as
thyself, are tob much afraid of me.”
“ Assuredly not. I have no fear 5 forl
have six men at hand to make me res-
pected, should it be necessary. But
believe my word; be confiding and do-
cile. I will give you liberty, if you
will allow me to substitute this strait
waistcoat for your ponderous chains.”
The captain yielded with a good grace
to every thing required of him, shrug-
ging his shoulders, but without uttering
a word. In a few minutes his irons
were completely removed, and Pinel
withdrew, leaving the door of the cell
open. Several times the maniac raised
himself from his seat, but fell back
again; he had kept the sitting posture
so long that he had lost the use of his
legs. At length, in about a quarter of
an hour, and after repeated attempts, he
succeeded in retaining his equilibrium,
and from the depth of his dark cell ad-
vanced staggering towards the door.
His first action was to look at the sky,
and exclaim in ecstasy, “ How beauti-
ful l” Through the whole day he ran
about, ascending and descending the
stairs, and constantly repeating the ex-

clamation, “ How beautiful ! how good I”
In the evening he returned to his cell,
slept tranquilly on a better bed, which
had been provided for him 5 and during
the two additional years which he passed
in the Bicetre, he had no paroxysm of
fury. He rendered himself, indeed,
useful in the establishment, by exerting
a certain degree of authority over the
patients, whom he governed after his
own fashion, and over whom he elected
himself a kind of superintendent.
But the case of Chevinge, a soldier of
the French guards, is looked upon as
one of the most memorable feats of that
interesting and eventful day. I/Vhile in
the army, he had but one fault—-drunk-
enness 5 and when in this state he be-
came turbulent, violent, and the more
dangerous from his strength being pro-
digious. Owing to his repeated excess-
es, he was dismissed from his regiment,
and soon dissipated his limited resources.
Shame and misery subsequently plunged
him into such a state of depression, that
his intellect became disordered. In his
delirium he thought he had been made
a general, and beat those who did not
admit his rank and quality ; and, in
consequence of a violent disturbance
thus originating, he was taken to the
Bicetre, laboring under the most furious
excitement. He had been confined in
chains for ten years, and with more se-
verity than most of his fellow sufferers,
as he had frequently broken asunder his
irons by the sole strength of his hands.
On one occasion, when he obtained mo-
mentary liberty in this manner, he set
at defiance the united efforts of all his
keepers to make him re-enter his cell.
His strength had, indeed, become pro-
verbial at the Bicetre.
Pinel, on several visits, had discover-
ed in Chevmge an excellent disposition,
masked under the excitement incessant-
ly occasioned by cruel treatment. He
promised the lunatic to ameliorate his
condition, and this promise itself ren-
dered him more tranquil. Pinel at
length told him he should be no longer
chained ; “and to prove the confidence
I have in thee,” said he, “ and that I re.
gard thee as a man adapted for doing
good, thou shalt aid me in freeing those
unfortunates who have not their reason
441
242
KINDNESS, POWER OF.

.ike thee; and if thou conductest thy-
self as I have reason to hope, I will take
thee into my service, and thou shalt ne-
ver quit me. Never,” adds Pinel, “was
there a more sudden and complete revo-
lution. The keepers themselves were
impressed with respect and astonishment
at the spectacle which Chevinge afford-
ed.” Scarcely was he liberated when
he was seen anticipating and following
with his eye, every motion of Pinel,
executing his orders with skill and
promptitude, and addressing words of
reason and kindness to the insane, on the
level with whom he had been but a
short time before. This man, whom
chains had kept degraded during the
nest years of his life, and who would
loubtless have spent the remainder of
nis existence in the same wretched con-
dition, became afterwards a model of
good conduct and gratitude. Often, in
the difiicult times of the revolution, he
saved the life of Pinel, and on one oc-
casion rescued him from a band of mis-
creants who were conducting him to the
“Lanterne,” owing to his having been
an elector in 1789. During the time
of famine, he left the Bicetre every
morning, and returned with supplies of
provisions which gold could not at that
time procure. His whole life was one
of perpetual devotion to his liberator.
In the course of a few days, the
shackles were removed from fifty-five
lunatics. An unexpected improvement
followed from a course Previously re-
garded impracticable and even fatal.
The furious mad-men, who monthly de-
stroyed hundreds of utensils, renounced
their habits of violence; others, who
tore their clothes, and rioted in filth and
nudity, became clean and decent; tran-
quillity and harmony succeeded to tu-
mult and disorder ; and over the whole
establishment order and - good feeling
reigned.
(Z2) BUNDY AND THE FERO-
CIOUS PRISONER.--The power of
kindness is seen in the case of Haynes,
executed in 1799 at Bristol, Eng. He
was heavily ironed, yet so extremely
turbulent and outrageous, that the other
prisoners stood in fear of him, and were
obliged to be constantly on their guard.
t became necessary even to call out the

military; but this only irritated him,
and made him worse. He would ex-
pose his naked breast to the soldiers’
bayonets, dare them to run him through,
and say he would rather be shot dead
than surrender himself to them. Yet,
when force failed, iemonstrance suc-
ceeded ; for he actually delivered up to
the persuasions of a gentleman, a wea-
pon which a file of soldiers were unable '
to take from him. A pious minister by
the name of Bundy, used to visit him,
and at length told the keeper he wished
to spend the night with the felon. He
was warned of his danger; but, moved
with compassion, he persisted, and en-
tered the prisoner’s cell. Finding him
prostrate on the floor under the weight
of his irons, he persuaded the keeper to
let him have one hand and foot at liber-
ty. The keeper retired late at night,
looking after him three massive doors ;
and Haynes, immediately lifting hp his
liberated hand, and reaching a clasped
knife he had concealed, rushed fiercely
towards him, exclaiming with the voice
and looks of a demon, “ Now thou art in
my power, I will kill thee.” The man
of God thought his end had come ; but
suddenly recalling the passage, “ thou
canst have no power over me unless it
be given thee from above,” was instant-
ly raised above all fear, and calmly
met the enraged culprit, to whom he
kindly said, “ Now, my friend, what
harm have I done you, or of what ser-
vice Would my death be to you '2” He
then spoke of the love of Christ, and as-
sured the felon, that he was ready to
receive all, even the most wicked, who
came to him. These words of kindness
softened the culprit’s heart; he threw
down the knife, acknowledging his guilt,
and burst into tears. Deeply convicted
at length of sin, he asked if it was pos-
sible for such a sinner as himself ever
to be saved '2 The anguish of his mind
was extreme ; he would often weep bit-
terly in view of his sins ; and there is
reason to hope that he died a sincere
penitent.
(0) ISAAC HOPPER AND CAIN.
—When Isaac Hopper lived in Phila-
delphia, his attention was drawn to a
colored waiter, called Cain, who was
remarkable for profanity. Neither per-
442
KINDNESS,
POWER OF. 242

auasion nor rebuke had any effect to
change this bad habit. One day Hop-
per encountered him in the street, quar-
reling and pouring forth volleys of oaths
that made one shudder. Having faith
in fines and constables, Hopper took him
before a magistrate, who fined him for
blasphemy.
Twenty years after, Isaac met Cain,
Whom he had not seen for a very long
time. His outward appearance was
much changed for the worse ; his gar-
ments were tattered, and his person
emaciated. This touched the F riend’s
heart. He stepped up, shook hands,
and spoke kindly to the forlorn being.
“ Dost not thou remember me,” said the
Quaker, “ and how I had thee fined for
swearing?” “Yes, indeed, I do ; I
remember wnat I paid as well as yes-
terday.” “Well, did it do thee any
good ?” “No, never a bit; it made
me mad to have my money taken from
me.”
Hopper invited Cain to reckon up the
interest on the fine, and paid him prin-
cipal and interest. “ Imeant it for thy
good, Cain, and I agrn sorry I did thee
any harm.” I
Cain’s countenance changed ; the
tears rolled down his cheeks; he took
the money with many thanks ; became
a quiet man, and was heard to swear no
more.
(cl) PILLSBURY AND THE GI-
ANT PRISONER.—-Mr. Pillsbury,
warden of the state prison in Connecti-
cut, once received into the prison a man
of gigantic stature, whose crimes had
for seventeen years made him the terror
of the country. He told the criminal
when he came, he hoped he would not
repeat the attempts to escape which he
had made elsewhere. “ It will be best,”
said he, “that you and Ishould treat
each other as well as we can. I will
make you as comfortable as I possibly
can, and I shall be anxious to be your
friend ; and I hope you will not get me
into difficulty on your account. There
is a cell intended for solitary confine-
ment ; but we have never used it, andl
should be sorry ever to have to turn the
key upon any body in it. You may
range the place as freely as I do ; if
You trust me, I shall trust you.” The

man was sulky, and for weeks showed
only gradual symptoms of softening un-
der the operation of Mr. Pillsbury’s
cheerful confidence. At length infor-
mation was brought of the man’s inten-
tion to break prison. The warden call-
ed him, and taxed him with it 5 the
man preserved a gloomy silence. He
was told it was now necessary for him
to be locked in the solitary cell, and
desired to follow the warden, who went
first, carrying a lamp in one hand, and
a key in the other. In the narrowest
part of the passage, Mr. Pillsbury, a
small, light man, turned round, and
looked in the face of the stout criminal.
“ Now,” said he, “ I ask whether you
have treated me as I deserve ? I have
done every thing I could to make you
happy ; I have trusted you ; but you
have never given me the least confi-
dence in return, and have even planned
to get me into difficulty. Is this kind ?
And yet I cannot bear to lock you up.
If I had the least sign that you cared
for me”— The man burst into tears
“ Sir,” said he, “I have been a very
devil these seventeen years; but you
treat me like a man.” “ Come, let us
~30 back,’7 said the warden. The con-
vict had free range of the prison as be-
fore; and from this hour he began to
open his heart to the warden, and cheer-
fully fulfilled his whole term of impris-
onment.
(e) AZEL BAOKUS AND THE
HEATHEN .——At a festival at Ganesa’s
(Gumputtee’s) temple in Ceylon, while
the multitude of worshipers, assembled
at the temple, were engaged in boiling
their rice for an offering, one of them
who went for water, fell into the well.
As soon as the circumstance was made
known to the crowd, they rushed to the
well, and among them was the panda-
rum (priest) of the temple, who, as soon
as he had gratified his curiosity, return-
ed to the temple. None among them
manifested the least concern for the un-
fortunate man who was sunk in the
water. They looked into the well, and
talked about the man in such imminent
danger with the most perfect indifi“er-
ence. Not an individual seemed to
think assistance could or ought to be
rendered, till one of the headmen came
443
242
KINDNESS, POWER OF.

-__~_ ‘
to the spot: he exerted all his influence
to induce some one to dive into the wa-
ter, which any person accustomed to
swimming might have done with perfect
safety, but his efforts were in vain. He
then sent for the priest, who was known
to be an expert swimmer. At the com-
mand of the headman he came, but ex-
cused himself from the act of mercy re-
quired of him, by saying that he could
not absent himself so long from the du-
ties of the temple without sustaining a
loss. Just at this moment came to the
place a young man, unknown to the
crowd, who, as soon as he learned that
a fellow being was drowning, threw
aside his garment, and leaped into the
well. After repeatedly diving, he found
the body, and raised it to the surface of
the water, from which it was taken by
the by-standers. As soon as the noise
and confusion occasioned by taking out
the lifeless body had subsided, a loud
whisper passed along the crowd, “ Who
is that young man ’! Who is that good
man '2” They were not a little sur-
prised, and some of the enemies of
Christianity confounded, when they
were told that this good Samaritan was
Azel Backus, a Christian! '1 his event
did not a little towards stopping the
mouths, and weakening the strength of
some who were arrayed against Chris-
tians and the cause in which they are
engaged; and is to all, who have any
knowledge of Scripture, a striking com-
ment on the words of inspiration,
“ Overcome evil with good.”
THE PHYSICIAN AND THE
DRAYMAN.—-Dr. P—, a Quaker of
Philadelphia, was very kind to the poor.
In times of sickness, produced by what-
ever cause, he was always ready and
Willing to assist them. His benevolence
in such cases extended farther than his
gratuitous services as a physician. Of
course he was beloved.
The streets were frequently some-
what crowded with building materials,
so much so as often, at particular places,
to prevent two vehicles from passing
each other, if the driver of either is dis-
posed to be obstinate.
As the doctor was one day proceed-
ing to visit a patient, his progress was
impeded by a dray—the driver of which

_I.'__‘‘
had stopped his horses in one of those
narrow passages. After waiting sever-
al minutes, the doctor requested the dray-
man to allow him to pass. The latter,
who had heard of, but did not know the
former, poured forth a volley of the
vilest abuse upon the “straight coat,”
and swore he would not move till he
thought proper.
“ Well, friend,” said the doctor, “ all I
have to observe is this: if tliee should
get sick, or if thy family should ever be
in distress, send for Dr. P., and he will
do all he can to assist thee.” The
heart of the drayman was subdued by
the kindness of the man he had abused.
He was ashamed of his conduct—-stam-
mered an apology, and removed the ob-
struction as speedily as possible.
How true it is, that “ a soft ton ue
breaketh the bone.” If the doctor fiad
cursed the drayman till midnight, he
would have received nothing but curs-
ing and blows in return. This may be
thought a small matter, but it furnishes
a useful lesson.
(g) LIFE SAVED BY GOOD
N ATURE.-—A gentleman in Philadel-
phia, who constantly felt and looked
kindly, going out one morning, met a
wretched looking man walking hastily
with a musket in his hand.
“ Good morning, sir,” said the gen-
tleman with a smile.
“ Good morning,” muttered the other ;
and passed on. Presently the gentle-
man heard the report of a musket, and
soon the cry of murder. It turned out
that the man with the musket was in-
sane, and had run out with a musket to
kill the first man he should meet, that
he might be hanged himself, and thus
get rid of this world ; but he was asked
why he did not kill the first gentleman.
“ Why he looked so good natured,”
said he, “that lthought I would not
shoot him.”
(It) THE HAYMAKERS.—-Two
neighbors were getting hay from ad-
joining lots of marsh land. One had
the misfortune to mire his team and
load so as to require aid from the other.
He called to him for assistance with his
oxen and men. But his neighbor felt
churlish, and loading him with re-
proaches for his imprudent manage-
44.4
LABOR, DIGNITY OF.
ment, told him to help himself at his
leisure. With considerable difficulty
he extricated his load from the mire and
pursued his business. A day or two
after, his churlish neighbor met with a
similar mishap. Whereupon the other,
without waiting for a request, volun-
243. LABOR,
(a) CYRUS A GARDENER.—-
When Lysander, the Lacedaemonian
general, brought magnificent presents
to Cyrus, the younger son of Darius,
who piqued himself more on his integ-
rity and politeness than on his rank and
birth, the prince conducted his illustri-I
ous guest through his gardens, and
pointed out to him their varied beauties.
Lysander, struck with so fine a pros-
pect, praised the manner in which the
grounds were laid out, the neatness of
the walks, the abundance of fruits plant-
ed with an art which knew how to com-
bine the useful with the agreeable; the
beauty of the parterres, and the glowing
variety of flowers e /haling odors uni-
versally throughout t 1e delightful scene.
“ Every thing charms and transports me
in this place,” said Lysander to Cyrus ;
“ but what strikes me most is the exqui-
site taste and elegant industry of the
person who drew the plan of these gar-
dens, and gave it the fine order, won-
derful disposition, and happiness of ar-
rangement which Icannot sufiiciently
admire.” Cyrus replied, “ It wasl that
drew the plan and entirely marked it
out; and many of the trees which you
see were planted by my own hands.”
“ What!” exclaimed Lysander, with
surprise, and viewing Cyrus from head
to foot, “is it possible that, with those
purple robes and splendid vestments,
those strings of jewels and bracelets of
gold, those buskins so richly embroider-
ed; is it possible that you could play
the gardener, and employ your royal
hands in planting trees ?” “ Does that
surprise you ?” said Cyrus; “ I assure
you that, when my health permits, I
never sit down to my table without hav-
ing fatigued myself, either in military
exercise, rural labor, or some other toil

243
teered with his oxen and re1 de red the
necessary assistance. The _churl felt
ashamed of himself. His evil was
overcome by his neighbor’s good, and
he never afterwards refused him H
favor.
DIGNITY OF.
some employment, to which I apply my-
self with pleasure.” Lysander, still
more amazed, pressed Cyrus by the
hand, and said, “ You are truly happy,
and deserve your high fortune, smce
you unite it with virtue.”
(b) LACEDZEMONIANS’ SEA-
SON IN G.——Dionysius the tyrant being
at an entertainment given to him by the
Lacedaemonians, expressed some disgust
at their black broth. “No wonder,”
said one of them, “ for it wants season-
ing.” “ What seasoning?’ asked the
tyrant. “Labor,” replied the citizen,
“joined with hunger and thirst.”
(c) INDUSTRIOUS MONARCH.
——It was the custom of Peter the Great
to visit the different workshops and man-
ufactories, not only to encourage them,
but also to judge what other useful es-
tablishments might be formed in his do-
minions. Among the places he visited
frequently, were the forges of Muller,
at Istia, ninety versts from Moscow.—-
The Czar once passed a whole month
there; during which time, after giving
due attention to the affairs of state, which
he never neglected, he amused himself
with seeing and examining every thing
in the most minute manner, and even
employed himself in learning the busi-
ness of a blacksmith. He succeeded so
well, that on one of the last days of his
remaining there, he forged eighteen
poods of iron, and put his own particu-
lar mark on each bar. The boyars and
other noblemen of his suite were em-
ployed in blowing the bellows, stirring
the fire, carrying coals, and performing
the other duties of ablacksnnth’s assist-
ant. \Vhen Peter had finished, he
went to the proprietor, praised his man-
ufactory, and asked him how much he
gave his workmen per pood. “Three
445
243, 244
LAWSUITS AND LAVVYERS.

kopecks, or an altina,” answered Mul-
ler. “Very well,” replied the Czar;
“I have then earned eighteen alinas.”
Muller brought eighteen ducats, offered
them to Peter, and told him that he could
not give a workman like his majesty
less per pood. Peter refused. “ Keep
your ducats,” said he ; “I have not
wrougnt better than any other man ;
give me what you would give to anoth-
er ; I want to buy a pair of shoes, of
which I am in great need.” At the
same time he showed him his shoes,
which had been once mended, and were
again full of holes. Peter accepted the
eighteen altinas, and bought himself a
pair of new shoes, which he used to
show with much pleasure, saying,-—
“ These I earned with the sweat of my
brow.”
One of the bars of iron forged by
Peter the Great, and authenticated by
his mark, is still to be seen at Istia, in
the forge of Muller. Another similar
bar is preserved in the cabinet of curi-
osities at St. Petersburgh.
(d) III/ASHINGTON AND THE
CORPORAL.—During the American
Revolution, it is said, the commander o-
a little squad was giving orders to those
under him, relative to a stick of timber
which they were endeavoring to raise
up to the top of some military works
they were repairing. The timber went
up hard, and on this account, the voice
of the little great man was oftener heard,
in regular vociferations of “ Heave
away! There she goes! Heave ho!”
An officer, not in military costume, was
passing, and asked the commander why
he did not take hold, and render a little
aid. The latter, astonished, turning
round with all the pomp of an emperor,
said, “Sir, I am a corporal l” “ You
are-—-are you '2” replied the officer, “I
was not aware of that ;” and taking off
244. LAVVSUITS
ta) THE CZAR AND HIS GOV-
ERNOR.—-Peter the Great frequently
surprised the magistrates by his unex-
pected presence in the cities of the em-
pire. Having arrived without previous
his hat and bowing, “I ask your par.
don, Mr. Corporal.” Upon this he dis-
mounted, and lifted till the sweat stooa
in drops on his forehead. And when
finished, turning to the commander, he
said, “Mr. Corporal, when you have
another such job, and have not men
enough, send for your Commander-1m
Chief, and I will come and help you a
second time.” The corporal was thun-
derstruck I It was Washington.
(6) CARTER’S REPLY TO THE
TANNER.—The Rev. J. Carter, one
of the puritan ministers, once came un-
expectedly behind a Christian of his ac-
quaintance, who was busily occupied
in his business as a tanner. He gave
him a pleasant tap on the shomder; the
good man looked behind him, started,
and said, “ Sir, I am ashamed that you
should find me thus employed.” Mr.
Carter replied, “Let Christ, when he
cometh, find me so doing.” “ W hat I”
said the good man, “doing thus?”—-
“Yes,” said Mr. C., “.faitht’ully per-
forming the duties of my calling.”
An anecdote similar to this is record-
ed of Dr. Doddringe and one of his
friends. .
SOUTHERN STUDENT AND
DR. STUART.—l\/Ianual labor is es-
teemed by many at the South as dis-
graceful. An anecdote showing to what
an extent this sentiment prevails, was
related at an anti-slavery meeting at
Danvers. A student from one of the
southern States, in the Theological Sem-
inary at Andover, had purchased some
wood, and was exceedingly embarrassed
at being unable readily to obtain some
one to saw it for him. He went to Pro-
fessor Stuart, to inquire what he should
do in so unfortunate a predicament. The
learned professor replied, that he was in
want of a job himself, and he would saw

it for him.
AND LAWYERS.
notice at Olonez, he went first to the re-
gency, and inquired of the governor how
many suits were depending in the court
of chancery ? “ None, sire,” replied
the governor. “How happens that '5"
446
LAWSUITS AND LAWYERS.
244
-_— -_
“I endeavor to prevent lawsuits, and
conciliate the parties; Iact in such a
manner that no traces of difference re-
main on the archives; if I am wrong,
your indulgence will excuse me.” “I
wish,” replied the Czar, “that all gov-
ernors would act on your principles.
Go on, God and your sovereign are
equally satisfied.”
GOOD ADVICE OF TYVISS.
--Mr. Philip Henry relates a remarka-
ble story concerning a good old friend
of his, who, when young, being an or-
phan, was greatly wronged by his uncle.
H18 portion, which was £200, was put
into the hands of that uncle ; who, when
he grew up, shuffled with him, and
would give him but £40, instead of his
£200, and he had no way of recovering
his right but by law. But, before he
would engage in that, he was willing to
advise with his minister, who was the
famous Dr. Twiss, of N ewberry. The
counsel he gave him, all things consid-
ered, was, for peace’ sake, and for the
preventing of sin, and snares, and
troubles, to take the £40 rather than
contend ; “ and Thomas,” said the doc-
tor, “ if thou dost so,.assure thyself that
God will make it lup to thee and thine
some other way, and they that defraud
will be the losers by it at last.” He did
so, and it pleased God so to bless that
little which he began the world With,
that when he died in a good old age, he
left his son possessed of some hundreds
a year, whilst he that had wronged him
fell into poverty.
(0) THE MAGISTRATE’S EXPE-
DIENT.——A rm rristrate of Paris estab-
lished a poor-box in his ofiice ; and
when he happened to accomplish the
pleasantest part of his duty, that of pre-
venting litigation, he invited the parties
whom he reconciled, to seal that recon-
ciliation with an alms. In a single year,
this worthy functionary collected more
than 1400 francs. This ingenious means
of beneficence was truly honorable to
the inventor.
(d) THE UNSETTLED LAVV-
CASE.--Two neighbors, who were
brothers by marriage; had a difficulty
respecting their partition fence. Al-
though they had mutually erected a
substantial fence, four and one half feet

in height on the line separating the sheep
pasture of one from the grain field of
the other, yet the lambs would creep
through the crevices and destroy the
grain. Each asserted it to be the duty
of the other to chink the fence. After
the usual preliminaries of demands, re-
fusals, threats, challenges, and mutual
recriminations, they resolved to try the
glorious uncertainty of the law; they
were, however, persuaded by their
friends to the more amicable mode of
submitting the defence and final deter-
mination to a very worthy and intelli-
gent neighbor, who was forthwith con-
ducted to the scene of t1‘Ol.1bIC, and in
full view of the premises: each party
in turn, in a speech of some length, as-
serted his rights, and set forth the law
and the facts; at the conclusion of
which, the arbitrator very gravely re-
marked : “ Gentlemen, the case involves
questions of great nicety and importance,
not only to the parties in interest, but to
the community at large; and it is my
desire to take suitable time for deliber-
ation, and also for advisement with those
who are learned in the law, and most
expert in the customs of good neighbors;
in the meantime, however, I will just
clap a billet or two of wood into the
sheep holes ;” and in ten minutes’ time,
with his hands, he effectually closed
every gap. The parties silently retir-
ed, each evidently heartily ashamed of
his own folly and obstinacy. The un-
pire has never been called upon to pro-
nounce final judgment in the case ; so
the law case remains unsettled to this
day.
(6) RULE FOR AN ATTORNEY.
—A pious attorney, being asked how he
could conscientiously plead for some of
his clients, replied, “ Sir, I have not for
many years undertaken a cause which
I could not pray for; and I have never
lost a case for which I could pray!” If
all lawyers would do thus, the oppres-
sion of the innocent would be less fre-
uenL
) ERSKINE’S OPIN ION .-Lord
Erskine, when at the bar, and at the
time when his professional talents were
most eminent and popular, having been
applied to by his friend Dr. Parr for his
opinion upon a subject likely to be liti
\ 447
244, 245
LEGACIES.
gated by him, after recommending the
doctor “to accommodate the difference
amicably,” concluded his letter by ob-
serving, “I can scarcely figure to my-
self a situation in which a lawsuit is
not, if possible, to be avoided.”
k ) THE LITIGANT’S GRATI-
F ICATION .—-A gentleman who had
been successively engaged in three pro-
fessions, that of minister, physician, and
lawyer was asked the comparative ad-
vantages of them for acquiring proper-
ty. He replied, “The man who will
give but a fourpence to save his soul,
will give twenty-five cents for relief
from sickness, and a dollar to have his
own will.”
(h) EXTRAORDINARY LAW-
YER.--A circumstance is mentioned
of Robert Dover, the worthy attorney
of Burton on the Heath, on the last
leaf of a book of verses to which his
portrait is aflixed, no less extraordinary
than the occasion of writing the poems,
namely; that “though he was bred an
attorney, he never tried but two causes,
having always made up the difference.”

__
(2') MATTHEVV HALE IN DIS-
GUISE.—The younger of two broth.
ers had endeavored to deprive the elder
of an estate of £500 a year, by suborn.
ing witnesses to declare that he died in
a foreign land. Coming into the court
in the guise of a miller, Sir Matthew
Hale was chosen the twelfth juryman
to sit on this cause. As soon as the
clerk of the court had sworn in the ju-
rymen, a little dexterous fellow came
into their apartment and slipped ten
gold pieces into the hands of eleven of
the jury, and gave the miller five, while
the judge was known to be bribed with
a great sum. The judge summed up
the evidence in favor of the younger
brother, and the jury were about to
give their assent, when the supposed
miller stood up and addressed the court
with such energetic and manly elo-
quence, as astonished the judge and all
present ; unraveled the sophistry to the
very bottom, proved the fact of bribery,
evinced the elder brotherls title to the
estate, from the contradictory evidence
of the witnesses, and gained a complete
victory in favor of tru*h and justice.
245. LEGACIES.
(a) THE RICH MAN’S HEIR.—
An old woman, who showed the house
and pictures at Towcester, expressed
herself in these remarkable words:—
“ That is Sir Robert Farmer ; he lived
in the country, took care of his estate,
built this house, and paid for it; ma-
naged well, saved money, and died rich.
-—T hat is his son. He was made a lord,
took a place at court, spent his estate,
and died a beggar!” A very concise,
but full account, and fraught with a va-
luable moral lesson. “He layeth up
riches, and knoweth not who shall ga-
ther them.”
(12) THE LOST LEGACY.-\Ve
knew a worthy clergyman, says a wri-
ter in the New-York Evangelist, Whn
had the cause of religion deeply at heart,
and Who, by his will, had bequeathed to
a benevolent institution a certain bond
which he held against an individual then

supposed to be rich. At the time of
making his will, the bond would have
been canceled on demand. But by a
reverse of circumstances, the debtor be-
came insolvent; and but a few cents
on the dollar were paid on the final
winding up of his concerns. This to
the benevolent clergyman was a source
of much deeper regret, than if he had
sustained the same loss in property which
he had designed for his own lawful heirs.
Instead of accumulating, as he had anti-
cipated, so as to produce a greater ul-
terior benefit to the cause, it was re-
duced to a very small pittance. Had
be given the money when he had formed
his design, it would have effected imme-
diate good, and perhaps yielded, in its
advantage to the cause, a far greater
per-centage, than any interest upon a
bond, had it been perfectly safe.
This incident will serve to illustrate
448
LICENTIOUSNESS.
215, 246

the importance of doing at once what-
ever we éasign for the promotion of the
os el.
(0) THE PRODIGAL REFORM-
ED.--Admiral vW'illiams when a young
man, was gay, and so addicted to ex-
pensive pleasures, that no remonstran-
ces could reclaim him. When his father
died, he met the rest of the family to
hear the will read. His name did not
occur among the other children, and he

the close of it, however, he found that
he was mentioned, as residuary legatee,
in these words. “All the rest of my es-
tate and effects I leave to my son Peere
Williams, knowing that he will spend
it all.”
On hearing this he burst into tears.
“My father,” said he, “has touched
the right string, and his reproach shall
not be thrown away.” His conduct
from that time was altered, and he be-
supposed the omission was a mark of came an honor to the Christian pro-
his father’s resentment against him. At fession.
265. LIOENTIOUSNESS.
(0) HINT TO YOUNG LADIES.
“ Why did you not take the arm of my
brother last night ?” said a young lady
to her friend, a very intelligent girl,
about 19, in a large town near lake
Ontario; she replied, " Because I know
him to be a licentious young man.”
“ Nonsense,” was the answer of the
sister, “if you refuse the attentions of
all licentious men, you will have none,
I can assure you.” “ ,Very well,” said
her friend, “then Ifrcan dispense with
them altogether—-for my resolution on
this point is unalterably fixed.” How
long would it take to revolutionize so-
ciety, were all young ladies to adopt
this resolution ‘Z
(6) THE HAPPY RAKE.——Colonel
Gardiner, says Doctor Doddridge, was
habitually so immersed in intrigues,
that if not the whole business, at least
the whole happiness of his life consisted
in them; and he had too much leisure
for one who was so prone to abuse it.
His fine constitution, than which, per-
haps, there was hardly ever a better,
gave him great opportunities in indulg-
ing himself in these excesses; and his
good spirits enabled him to pursue his
pleasures of every kind in so alert and
sprightly a manner, that multitudes en-
vied him. and called him, by a dread-
ful kind of compliment, “ The happy
rake.” Yet still the checks of con-
science, and some remaining principles
of an excellent education, would break
in upon his most licentious hours; and
I particularly remember he told me,
that when some of his dissolute com-
panions were once congratulating him
on his distinguished felicity, a dog hap-
pening at that time to come into the
room, he could not forbear groaning in-
wardly, and saying to himself, “ Oh that
I were that dog I ” Such was then his
happiness, and such, perhaps, is that of
hundreds more, who bear themselves
highest in the contempt of religion, and
glory in that infamous servitude which
they affect to call liberty.
(c) HIGHWAY TO SUICIDE.-—
The Rev. John Owen, the eloquent ad-
vocate of the Bible Society, after ad-
verting, in a sermon to the young, to
the peaceful death of a little girl, men-
tions the awful end of a youth who had
been seduced from the paths of virtue
by wicked associates.
Scarcely, says he, had the turf been
spread over the mortal remains of this
young disciple, when the ground was
opened to receive another of our youth,
who, awful to relate, had raised his
arm, and that with too fatal success,
against the precious, the invaluable de-
posit of his own life. This deluded youth
had received the benefit of a Christian
education in one of our schools of gra-
tuitous instruction ; and, like the happy
subject who preceded him into eternity,
had been carefully lectured in the house
of God on matters which concerned his
salvation. But a removal from school
to employment was to him, as it un-
happily is to too many of our youth,
the signal for renouncing his attendance
29
449
247
LOVE, BROTHERLY.

upon the ordinances of religion. The
consequence was such that might natu-
rally be apprehended. He fell into
the snare of evil company, and became
lieentious, profligate, and abandoned.
Diseased, disgraced, despondent, with-
out any cordial from religious hope,
any support in Christian resignation,
yielded to the temptation of the des-
troyer, and completed the measure of
his sin, his misery, and his dishonor,
by an act of deliberate suicide

Behold then, this victim to his youth-
ful lusts, mangled, cruelly m igled by
his own violence; and welte§ing, with
awful publicity, in the stream of blood
which his suicidal hands have spilt.
Behold-—not that you may gratify an
unfeeling curiosity, nor yet be convuls-
ed with horror and disgust-—but that
you may learn the solemn truth which
every part of this catastrophy pro
claims, “ The wages of sin is death ! ”
247. LOVE, BROTHERLY.
(a) A CALVINIST’S LIBERALI-
TY.——“ Though a man,” says the Rev.
John Newton, “does not accord with
my views of Election, yet if he give me
good evidence that he is effectually
called of God, he is my brother. Though
he seems afraid of the doctrine of final
perseverance, yet if grace enable him
to persevere, he is my brother still.
If he will love Jesus, I will love him.
whatever hard names he may be called
by, and whatever incidental mistakes
I may think he holds. This differing
from me will not always prove him to be
wrong, except I am infallible myself.”
(6) INTIMACY W I T H T H E
PIOUS POOR.—-A truly pious man of
rank and influence in society, was in
the habit of entertaining and admitting
to a degree of intimacy, persons of very
humble circumstances of life, if they
only gave evidence of true religion. A
friend of his, who was accustomed to
measure every thing according to the
standard of this world, pleasantly rallied
him on the subject of his associates; in-
timating his surprise that he should ad-
mit to his hospitality and friendship per-
sons of obscure origin, and of little esti-
mation among men. He replied in a
tone of unaffected humility, that as he
could scarcely hope to enjoy so elevated
a rank as they in a future world, he
knew not why he should despise them
in the present. The reproof came home
to the feelings of the proud man, and
he was silent; conscience whispering,
meanwh;le, how dim were his pros-
pects of rising, in the future world, to
an equality with the pious poor, if his

Christian friend was in danger of fall
ing below them.
(0) AN UNBELIEVER CON -
VINCED.—A man who had for some
time attended the meetings of a certain
church in the city of New York, came
before them to relate his experience,
with a view to joining them by baptism.
In detailing the exercises of his mind,
he stated that what first drew his seri-
ous attention to the subject of religion,
was observing the unbroken concord and
Christian affection existing among the
members of the church. It struck hun
that such a delightful harmony and mu-
tual attachment could not be the effect
of natural feeling and self-interest, for
it was too pure and too holy. I/Vhat
could produce such a tie of brotherhood
but the agency of the Spirit of God!
There was no other explanation, and
the more he looked upon the church
keeping the unity of the spirit in the
bond of peace, the more his heart was
affected, till he was led to cast himself
at the feet of Christ, and pray that his
hard and selfish heart might be changed,
and that he also might become one of
the blessed company of the saints.
If all churches maintained such a
fellowship as this, and could always
challenge the world with “ Behold how
these Christians love one another,”
what multitudes would believe in Christ
who now reject him !
(d) PLAGUE AT ALEXANDRIA.
-—A startling instance of the brotherly
love of the early Christians, transpired
in the great plague that raged in Alex-
andria, during the reign of Gallienus.
450
LOVE, BROTHERLY.
247
At the first appearance of the symptoms
the heathen drove the infected man
from their sight; they tore themselves
from their dearest connections; they
threw their friends half dead into the
streets, and left their dead unburied.
But in contrast with this cruel selfish-
ness, “ the Christians, in the abundance
of their brotherly love,” as their bishop
Dyonysius says, “did not spare them-
selves, but mutually attending to each
other, they would visit the sick without
fear, and ministering to each other for
the sake of Christ, cheerfully gave up
their lives with him. Many died after
their care had restored others to health.
Many who took the bodies of their
Christian brethren into hands and bo-
soms, and closed their eyes, and buried
them with every mark of attention,
soon followed them in death.”
(6 CYPRIAN AND THE CAP-
TIV S.—The early Christians were
remarkable for their brotherly love.
Wl16l1 a multitude of Christian men and
women in N umidia, had been taken
prisoners by a horde of neighboring bar-
barians, and when the churches to
which they belonged were unable to
raise the sum demap/cfed for their ran-
som, they sent deputies to the church
that was planted in the metropolis of
North Africa. N o sooner had Cyprian
who was at the head of it, heard a state-
m-ent of the distressing case, than he
commenced a subscription in behalf of
the unfortunate slaves, and never re-
laxed his indefatigable efforts, till he
had collected a sum equal to nearly
$4,000. This he forwarded to the Nu-
midian Christians, with a letter full of
Christian sympathy and tenderness.
“In cases like these,” he says in his
letter, “ who would not feel sorrow, and
who would not look upon a brother’s
sufferings as his own? As the apostle
says, when one member suffers, all the
members suffer with it. Therefore we
must consider the captivity of our bre-
thren as our own captivity. l/Ve must
see Christ in our captive brethren, and
redeem him from captivity who re-
deemed us from death.”
(f) TI-IE CONVERT’S DISAP-
POINTMENT.-——A young lady in
Rhcde Island, who had been brought up

by a pious and devoted mother, and who
had always looked up to Christians as
patterns of all that was excellent in piety
and morality, as forming societies next
in their loveliness to that of heaven, was
led to repentance, and united with a
Christian church. Some time after her
baptism, she heard some of the older
and leading members of the church,
speaking in terms of severity and bitter-
ness respecting the faults and errors of
some of the other members; and with
out appearing grieved at the conduct
they so freely censured. Her surprise
and disappointment were most painful.
Is this, thought she, the boasted fellow-
ship of the church’? Can those profes-
sors know any thing of the spirit of
Christ’? She was led to doubt their
Christianity; and yet as they had ex-
pressed the same attachment to Christ
and his cause which she had herself,
she was led to think that her own feel-
ings, as well as theirs, were but the
kindlings of enthusiasm, the joys of false
hopes, and the reveries of an excited
imagination. Thus her mind was filled
with gloom and despair; she felt she
had been most cruelly deceived, and
her wretchedness was extreme. She
poured out her soul in tears, day and
night ; but tears proved the food rather
than the medicine of her grief. At
length she began to be subject to doubts
respecting the reality of spiritual reli-
gion; she, of course, neglected many
of its duties ; if she tried to pray, her
prayers seemed but foolishness ;——at
length Jesus Christ became an obyect
of skepticism, and at last she even call-
ed in questidn the existence of a God,
And here she remained “ in tideless,
shoreless wo,” till, through the agency
of the Providence and Spirit of God,
she was led to come to herself, arise
and go to her father’s house 1
Oh! how should such a fact as this
urge professed Christians, one and all,
to be “ kindly affectioned one to another
with brotherly love,” and to put away
from among them “ all bitterness, and
wrath, and anger, and clamor, and evil
speaking, with all malice.”
g) VVHlTFIELD’S OPINION OF
W SLEY.—-A minister very liberal
in his reflections on Mr. ‘Wesley and
4:51
248
LOVE TO CHRIST.

his followcrs, being once in company
with Mr. VVhitfield, expressed his doubt
to him concerning Mr. VVesley’s salva-
tion, and said, “ Sir, do you think when
we get to heaven, we shall see Mr.
Wesley '2” “No, sir,” replied Mr.
\Vhitfield, “I fear not, for he will be
so near the throne, and we shall be at
such a distance, we shall hardly get
sight of him.”
242. LOVE TO CHRIST.
((1) THE MORAVIAN PILOT.-—
In the year 1811, the Moravian mis-
sionaries in Labrador determined on the
introduction of the gospel in the northern
parts of that land. They embarked in
company with a Christian pilot whom
they had obtained, named Jonathan.
The sacrifices which this man made
to accompany him were very great.
At Hopedale, he was considered the
principal person or chief of his nation ;
but being made a partaker of the same
spirit by which the missionary brethren
were actuated, he was willing to sojourn
among strangers, where he would have
no pre-eminence, and to expose himself
to unknown hardships and dangers
sustained only by the hope that the pro-
jected voyage might open the way for
the introduction of the gospel among a
portion of his countrymen still sitting in
darkness and the shadow of death.
VVhen any of his countrymen repre-
sented to him the danger of the expedi-
tion, he used to say, “Well, we will
try, and shall know better when we get
there :” and once he said, “ When I
hear people talk about the danger of
being killed, I think Jesus went to death
out of love to us ; what greater matter
would it be, if we were to be put to
death in his service, should that be his
good pleasure '2” So effectually had he
been taught that Christ died for all, that
we who live should not henceforth live
unto ourselves, but unto him who died
for us, and rose again. Nor was this
a mere empty boast ; this generous
principle of devotedness to Jesus evi-
dently actuated our Esquimaux captain
during the severe trials of a most peril-
ous voyage; his cheerful, firm, and
faithful conduct, under all circum-
stances, being quite consistent with his
Christian rofession.
(6) TH * HAPPY HlNDOO.—-—The

Rev. Eustace Carey, from India, relates
a pleasing anecdote of a native Christian
whom he was called to visit. Inquiring
as to the state of her mind, she replied,
“ Happy 1 happy I Ihave Christ here,”
laying her hand on the Bengalee Bible;
“and Christ here,” pressing it to her
heart; “ and Christ there,” pointing to-
wards heaven. Happy Christian I to
whatever part of the universe she
might be removed, the Lord of the uni-
verse was with her, and she was secure
of his favor. “ Whom have I in hea-
ven but thee? and there is none upon
the earth that I desire besides thee.
My heart and my flesh faileth, but God
is the strength of my heart and my
ortion for ever.
(0) “ SHALL WE KNOW EACH
OTHER IN HEAVEN.———An old min-
ister, while one day pursuing his
studies, his wife being in the room,
was suddenly interrupted by her asking
him a question, which has not always
been so satisfactorily answered. “ Do
you think we shall know each other in
heaven 2” Without hesitation, he re-
plied, “ To be sure we shall ; do you
think we shall be greater fools there
than we are here '2” After a moment-
ary pause, he again proceeded; “ But
I may be a thousand years by your side
in heaven without having seen you ;
for the first thing which will attract my
notice when I arrive there, will be my
dear Saviour; and I cannot tell when I
shall be for a moment induced to look
at any other object.”
(cl) PREFERRING CHRIST TO
ORNAMENTS.——In a letter from the
Rev. A. Judson, a Christian missionary
in Burmah, addressed to American fe-
males, is the following anecdote:
A Karen woman offered herself for
baptism. After the usual examination
Iinquired whether she could give up
452
LOVE TO CHRIST, ASSURANCE OF.
248, 249

her ornaments for Christ. It was an
unexpected blow. I explained the spirit
of the gospel, and appealed to her own
consciousness of vanity. I then read to
her the apostle’s prohibition, 1 Tim. 2 :
9. She looked again and again at her
handsome necklace, and then, with an
air of modest decision, that would
adorn, beyond all ornaments, any of
my sisters whom I have the honor of
addressing, she took it off, saying “I
love Christ more than this.”
(e) LOVING CHRIST BETTER
THAN RELATIVES. —A martyr
was asked, whether he did not love his
wife and children, who stood weeping
by him ’§ “Love them !” said he, “ yes,
if all the world were gold, and at my
disposal, I would give it all for the
satisfaction of living with them, though
it were in prison; yet, in comparison
with Christ, I love them not.”
(f) NONE BUT CHRIST.—John
Lambert suffered in the year 1538. No
man was used at the stake with more
cruelty than this holy martyr. They
burned him with a slow fire by inches.
But God was with him in the midst of
the flame, and supported him in all the
anguish of nature. J Ifst before he ex-
pired, he lifted up such hands as he had
all flaming with fire, and cried out to
the people with his dying voice, with
these glorious words, “ Norte but
C'lz.rist.l Nozze but Christ./” He was at
last bent down into the fire and expired.
249. Love to Christ, Assurance of.
(a) N AMACQUA GIRL’S LOVE.
-1 have observed a little Namacqua
girl in my house, says Mr. Schmelen,
a Christian missionary, about eight
years of age, with a book in her hand,
very accurately instructing another girl
about fourteen. “Then I asked her if
she loved the Lord Jesus, she answered,
“Yes, I do; and I desire to love him
more.” I inquired why she loved him,
since she had never seen him ; she
answered, “ He loved me first, and
died for me on the cross, that I might
live.” When I asked her if the Lord
Jesus would love the little children, she
could not at swer me for weeping, and
at length fa nted away. I had frequent-

ly observed this child under deep im-
pressions at our meetings. She is de-
scended from a wild Bushman, and was
stolen from her people and country,
but has no desire now to return.
(6) “LOVEST THOU ME ?”-—-In
one of the general associations, held
in South and North Wales, of different
Sunday Schools to be publicly catechis-
ed together, a young girl answered the
close questions put by the Saviour to
Peter: “ Lovest thou me?” When she
came to answer the third time, she was
overcome by her feelings, and burst into
tears, in which she was accompanied
by the larger part of the congregation.
Silence continued for a few minutes, all
the people solemnly waiting her reply,
when recovering herself, she cried out,
“Thou knowest all things; thou know-
est that I love thee 1” Happy indeed
are those who, by the grace of our
Lord Jesus Christ, can thus speak!
(c) “ EFFECTUAL CALLING.‘7
——The Rev. Thomas Doolittle used to
catechise the members, and especially
the young people of his congregation,
every Lord’s day. One Sabbath even-
ing, after having received an answer in
the words of the Assembly’s Catechism,
to the question, “ What is effectual call-
ing 2” and having explained it, he pro-
posed that the question should be an-
swered by changing the words as and
our, into me and my. Upon this propo-
sal, a solemn silence followed; many
felt its vast importance; but none had
courage to answer. At length a young
man rose up, and with every mark of a
broken and contrite heart, by divine
grace, was enabled to say, “ Effectual
calling is the work of God’s Spirit,
whereby convincing me of my sin and
misery, enlightening my mind in the
knowledge of Christ, and renewing my
will, he did persuade and enable me to
embrace Jesus Christ, freely offered me
in the gospel.” The scene was truly
affecting. The proposal of that question
had commanded unusual solemnity.
The rising up of the young man had
created high expectations, and the an-
swer being accompanied with proofs of
unfeigned piety and modesty, the con-
gregation was bathed in tears. This
young man had been convicted by being
45
240,250
LOVE TO SOULS
4__ __| u
catechised, and to his honor, Mr. D.
says, “From being an ignorant and
wicked youth, he had become an intel-
ligent professor to God’s glory, and my
much comfort.”
(d) NINE YEARS WITHOUT
DUUBTING.—Dea. H. of Southing-
250. LOVE
(a) THE COLPORTEUR’S SUF-
F ERIN GS.—The following is lan-
guage held by a Colporteur of the Ame-
rican Tract Society, in Florida :—-
“A Colporteur must count the cost,
admonished by Him who came to seek
and to save that which was lost. Bodi-
ly strength and vigor of health are pre-
requisites. He must be willing to abide
with the poorest and most ignorant
of our fellow-men, and be content with
the humblest fare; cheerfully endure
cold and heat, hunger and thirst, labor
and fatigue, if souls may be benefited
and the kingdom of our Redeemer pro-
moted. Above all, he needs an entire
reliance on the Divine aid and guidance
and must have his own heart subdued
by the Spirit of God.
“Thoughl have sunk in the bogs,
and have extrioated myself only by ex-
cessive labor ; have broken down in the
midst of a difficult stream, in the sickly
and hot season, and waded out with my
boxes of books ; have been lost two days
in the woods without food for myself or
horse; have lain in the wild forest far
from any habitation while the storm was
raging about me, or only the howling of
wolves and of other wild beasts was
heard 5 yet these trials of hunger, thirst,
and exposure are of little account, if I
can but win souls to Christ.”
(6) MISSIONARY AMONG LE-
PERS.-—In the south of Africa there
was once a large lazar-house, for lepers.
It was an immense space, enclosed by
a very high wall, and containing fields,
which the lepers cultivate. There was
only one entrance, which was strictly
guarded. Whenever any one was
found with the marks of leprosy upon
him, he was brought to this gate and
obliged to enter in never to return. No
ton, Ct., one day said to a friend, “I
have scarcely seen an hour for the past
nine years, since I professed religion, in
whichl have not been able to say in
holy confidence with Peter, “Lord,
thou knowest all things, then knowest
that I love thee !”
TO SOULS.
one who entered in by that awful gate
was ever allowed to come out again.
Witliiii this abode of misery, there was
multitudes of lepers in all stages of the
disease. Dr. Halbeck, a missionary of
the Church of England, from the top of
a neighboring hill, saw them at work.
He noticed two particularly, sowing
peas in the field. The one had no
hands, the other had no feet,—these
members being wasted away by disease.
The one who wanted the hands was
carrying the other who wanted the feet
upon his back, and he again carried in
his hands the bag of seed, and dropped
a pea every now and then, which the
other pressed into the ground with his
foot-—and so they managed the work of
one man between the two.—Two Mo-
ravian missionaries, impelled by an ar-
dent love for souls, chose the lazar-
house as their field of labor. They en-
tered it never to come out again ; and
it was said that as soon as these should
die, other Moravians were quite ready to
fill their place. “ Ah I my dear friends,”
adds the late Rev. Robert M’Cheyne,
“may we not blush, and be ashamed
before God, that we, redeemed with the
same blood, and taught by the same
Spirit, should yet be so unlike these
men in vehement, heart-consu ming love
to Jesus and the souls of men '2”
(0) THE TWO MINERS.-——At a
meeting of the Wesleyan Missionary
Society, the Rev. R. Young, of Truro,
mentioned a very remarkable fact that
had taken place in Cornwall, (Eng)
“ Two men were working together
in a mine, and having prepared to blast
the rock, and laid the train, the latter
became by accident ignited. In a few
moments a tremendous explosion they
knew was inevitable, and the rock must
454
-4 LOVE TO SOULS .
250
—- -

be rent in a thousand pieces. On per-
ceiving their danger, they both leaped
into the bucket, and called to the man
on the surface to draw them up. He
endeavored to do so, but his arm was
found too feeble to raise the bucket
while both the men were in it. What
was to be done? The burning fuse,
which could not be extinguished, was
now within a few feet of the powder; a
moment or to, and the explosion must
take place. At this awful crisis, one
of the men, addressing the other, said,
“ You shall live and I will die; for you
are an impenitent sinner, and if you now
die, your soul will be lost; but ifl die,
I know that, by the grace of the Lord
Jesus Christ,I shall be taken to him-
self.” And so saying, without waiting
for a reply, he leaped out of the bucket
and prayerfully waited the result. On
the other reaching the surface, he bent
over the shaft to ascertain the fate of
his companion. At that moment a ter-
rific explosion was heard; a portion of
the rock was thrown up and smote him
on the forehead, leaving an indelible
mark to remind him of his danger and
deliverance. But the man of God,
when they came to search for him, was
found arched over by the fragments of
broken rock in the mine, uninjured, and
rejoicing in the Lord. This magnani-
mous miner exhibited in this act an
amount of disinterested love and charity
which has seldom been equaled, and is
never found but in connection with the
love of Christ. Here is none of that un-
holy daring of which we have instances
among the heroes of Greece and Rome,
who, actuated solely by a love of note-
riety,inflicted upon themselves tortures,
and even death; but that pure Chris-
tian character, which at all hazards,
even at the sacrifice of life itself, seeks
to save the immortal soul of man. This
is the kind of charity we have met this
day to elicit, to strengthen, and to direct,
and without which it is impossible that
the great object of missionary enter-
prise can ever be accomplished.
(d) A PERSECUTOR SAVED.—
The Rev. J. Underhill, a worthy and
zealous minister of Christ, in Stafford-
shire, (Eng) met with much persecu-
tion in his work. At one time appoint-

ed for public worship, an infuriated mob
of more than 500, mostly colliers, col-
lected, some armed with clubs, staves,
and stones; others had horns and noisy
instruments, determined, as they de-
clared, to drive out the methodists, or to
destroy them. VVhile the people, and
some ministers, were pursued by the
rabble, a gentleman called out fiercely
to the rioters, pointing to Mr. Under-
hill, “ There is one of the methodist
dogs; take notice of him; do your work
well, and I will give you a barrel of
ale at the end of it.” Two of the min-
isters narrowly eseaped with their lives.
M r.Underhill and a broth’r ministerwere
dragged to a public house; the latter re-
ceived such a violent blow with a poker
from the landlord, that he never entirely
recovered from its effects. But, merci-
fully for the landlord, that was to be his
last sin in opposing the gospel. Some
time afterwards, these very ministers
met the landlord at a house where they
supped together; and talking over for-
mer scenes of tribulation through which
they had together passed, the minister
said, “ N 0 part appeared so heinous as
the conduct of the man who struck me
when in quiet custody.” He was de-
sired to look on the company, and try
to recognize the person. Time had ef-
faced any recollection of his features.
Mr. Underhill then said, “Behold, he
dippeth with thee in the dish.” Here
an interesting scene took place. They
wept on each other’s necks, the landlord
bewailing his crime, and entreating for-
giveness ; and the minister assuring
him, that even the loss of life would
have been richly *epaid by the salvation
of one soul.
(e) TEARS PREVAILlNG.—--An
ungodly youth, who had disregarded the
pious advice of his parents, at length
consented to accompany them to hear a
popular minister, who visited the town
in which they lived. The subject of
the discourse was, the heavenly state,
which was described by the most glow-
ing and attractive representations. On
returning home, the young man express-
ed his admiration of the preacher’s
talents—-“ But,” said he, turning to his
mother, “I was surprised, while the
smile of joy was visible on the cou11t-,e-
455
2250
LOVE TO SOULS. 0

nances of all around me, you and my
father appeared gloomy and sad, and,
more than once in tears. I was the
more astonished, because I thought that
if any could claim an interest in the sub-
ject, you were the happy persons.”
“Ah, my son,” replied the anxious mo-
ther, “I did weep, not because I feared
my own personal interest in the subject,
or that of y our affectionate and pious fa-
ther, but I wept for you: it was the fear
that you, my beloved child, would be
forever banished from the blessedness
of heaven, that caused me to give way
to my bursting grief.” “I supposed,”
said the father, turning to his wife,
“that those were your reflections. The
same concern for our dear son made me
weep also.” These pointed, yet tender
and judicious remarks, found their way
to the heart of their child. He felt them
keenly; they wounded his hard heart,
led him to repentance and to the cross
of Christ for mercy and reconciliation,
and terminated in his saving conversion.
(f) EXPERIENCE OF ED-
WARDS.—In the life of the Rev. J ena-
than Edwards, which is prefixed to his
History of Redemption, we find the fol-
lowing paragraphs selected from the
narratives of his own religious experi-
ence. “I had then abundance of sweet
religious conversation in the family
where I lived, with Mr. J. Smith, and
his pious mother. My heart was knit
in affection to those in whom were ap-
pearances of true piety; and I could
bear the thoughts of no other com-
panions, but such as were holy, and the
disciples of the blessed Jesus. I had
great longing for the advancement of
Christ’s kingdom in the world,my secret
prayer used to be in great part taken up
in praying for it. If I heard the least
hint of any thing that happened in any
part of the world, that appeared to me
in some respect or other to have a
fave rable aspect on the interest of
Chi 1st’s kingdom, my soul eagerly
catched at it, and it would much ani-
mate and refresh me. I used to be
earnest to read public news letters,
mainly for that end, to see if I could not
find some news favorable to the interest
of religion in the world.”
JOY OVER REPENTING
SINNERS.—A pious Armenian, call-
ing on Mr. Hamlin, the missionary at
Constantinople, remarked that he was
astonished to see how the people are
waking up to the truth; how, even
among the most uncultivated some are
seeking after it as for hid treasure.—-
“Yes,” said he, “it is going forward;
it will triumph; but alas! I shall not
live to see it. Alas! that I am born an
age too soon.” “But,” said Mr. Harn-
lin, “ do you remember what our Sa-
viour said, ‘ There shall be joy in the
presence of the angels of God over one
sinner that repenteth '5’ You may not
live to see the truth triumphant in this
empire; but should you, through divine
grace, reach the kingdom of heaven
and be with the angels, your joy over
your whole nation repentant and redeem-
ed, will be infinitely greater than it
could be on earth.” He seemed sur-
prised at this thought; but, after exam-
ining the various passages to which I
referred him, he yielded to the evidence
with the most lively expressions of de-
light, and seemed to be perfectly enrap-
tured at the thought that our interest in
the church of Christ and the progress
of his kingdom on earth is something
which death cannot touch, and which,
instead of ceasing with this life, will
only be increased and perfected in an-
other. “Oh fool, and slew of heart,”
said he, “ to read the gospel so many
times without perceiving such a glorious
truth. If this be so, no matter in what
age a Christian was born, nor when he
dies.”
456
LUXURY-LYING.
251, 252

251. LUXURY.
(a) SUCCESSFUL REPROOF.—-
The Rev. Mr. S , an em rent di-
vine of the church of England, happen-
ed to dine with several other clergy men,
in the house of a pious gentleman. Af-
ter dinner, the conversation turned on
the prevailing faults of professing Chris-
tians. Mr. S said, that one of the
most obvious sins which those of them
who are wealthy are apt to indulge in,
is the keeping too good tables; that va-
rious courses, expensive removes, and
luxurious dishes, savored too much of
the world, had a tendency to draw away
the heart from God, to cherish the de-
sires of the carnal mind, and to make
people fond of what is unworthy of a
man’s attention——good eating; and then,
in his plain blunt way, he added, “I can-
not help saying, that the dinner we had
to-day was not quite agreeable to my
ideas of Christian simplicity.” The
hint was taken, and though Mr. S
repeatedly afterwardsfiidined in the
same house, he never dnce had occasion
to repeat his remark.
(I2) CROESUS’ ADVICE TO CY-
RUS.—Wl1e11 Cyrus received intelli-
gence that the Lydians had revolted
from him, he told Croesus, with a good
deal of emotion, that he had almost de-
termined to make them all slaves. Croe-
sus begged him to pardon them. “But,”
said he, “that they may no more rebel
or be troublesome to you,command them



to lay aside their arms, to wear long
vests and buskins, that is, to vie witr.
each other in the elegance and richness
of their dress. Order them to drink,
and sing, and play, and you will soon
see their spirits broken, and themselves
changed to the effeminacy of women,
so that they will no more rebel, nor
give you further uneasiness.” The ad-
vice was followed, and the result proved
how politic it was. While the advice
is such as no good man could consist-
ently follow, the incident shows the de-
teriorating influence of luxury in a very
striking light.
(0) DINNER WITH BISHOP
BUTLER.—The Rev. John Newton
relates, that a friend of his once dined
with Dr. Butler, then bishop of Dur-
ham ; and though the guest was a man
of fortune, and the interview by appoint-
ment, the provision was no more than a
joint of meat and a pudding. The bish-
op apologized for his plain fare, by say-
ing that it was his manner of living, and
that being disgusted with the fashiona-
ble expense of time and money in en-
tertainments, he was determined it
should receive no countenance from his
example. Nor was this conduct the
result of covetousness ; for, large as
were his revenues, such was his liber-
ality to the poor, that he left at his death
little more than enough to discharge his
debts and pay for his funeral.
252. LYIN Gr.
a LYING TO CIIlLDREN.—
The Rev. Robert Hall had so great an
aversion to every species of falsehood
and evasion, that he sometimes express-
ed himself very strongly on the subject.
The following is an instance, stated in
his life by Dr. Gregory: Once, while
he was spending an evening at the house
of a friend, a lady, who was there on a
visit, retired, that her little girl of f ur .

years old might go to bed. She return-
ed in about half an hour, and said to a
lady near her, “ She is gone to sleep; I
put on my night-cap, and lay down b
her, and she soon dropped off.” Mr.
Hall, who overheard this, said, “Ex-
cuse me, madam: do you wish your
child to grow up a liar 2” “Oh dear,
no, sir; I should be shocked at such a
thing.” “Then bear with me while!
\
457
252
LYING.
say, you must never act a lie before her :
children are very quick observers, and
soon learn that that which assumes to
be what it is not, is a lie, whether acted
or spoken.” This was uttered with a
kindness which precluded offence, yet
with a seriousness that could not be
forgotten.
(b) SUFFERING DEATH WHILE
FEIGNIN G IT.——One day, as Arch-
bishop Leighton was going from Glas-
gow to Dumblane, there happened a
tremendous storm of lightning and thun-
der. He was observed, when at a con-
siderable distance, by two men of bad
character. They had not courage to
rob him; but wishing to fall on some
method to extort money from him, one
said, “I will lie down by the vvay-side
as if I were dead, and you shall inform
the archbishop that I was killed by the
lightning, and beg money of him to
bury me.” VVhen the archbishop ar-
rived at the spot, the wick ed wretch told
the fabricated story : the archbishop
sympathized with the survivor, gave
him money, and proceeded on his jour-
ney. But when the man returned to
his companion, he found him really life-
less 1 Immediately he began to exclaim
aloud, “ Ohl sir, he is dead 1 Oh! sir,
he is dead 1” On this, the archbishop,
discovering the fraud, left the man with
this important reflection: “ It is a dan-
gerous thing to trifle with the judg-
ments of God 1”
(0) NOT AT HOME.——-Bishop At-
terbury was once addressed by some of
his right reverend coadjutors to the fol-
lowing effect : “ My lord, why will you
not suffer your servants to deny you,
when you do not care to see com pany’?
It is not a lie for them to say you are
not at home, for it deceives no one;
every body knowing it means only,
that your lordship is busy.” He re-
plied, “ My lords, ifit is (which I doubt)
consistent with sincerity, yet I am sure
it is not consistent with that sincerity
which becomes a Christian bishop.”
What a curious argument it is, that be-
cause a falsehood should be known to
be such by those who hear it, they are
bound to receive it as a truth, or to be-
lieve there is no guilt in uttering it !
___ -—--‘—--___-|
(ci) TWO APPEALS.—When De-
nades the orator addressed himself to
the Athenians, “I call all the gods and
goddesses to witness,” said he, “the.
truth of what I shall say ;” the Athe-
nians, often abused by his impudent lies,
presently interrupted him by exclaim-
ing, “And we call all the gods and
goddesses to witness that we will not
believe you.”
(e) DISSEMBLER’S INVITA-
TlON.—When Dr. Moore was in Par
is, in the course of his travels, he one
day found a lady of quality, whom he
had been in the habit of visiting, mani-
festing much ill humor, and evidently
betray ing great agitation of mind. Dr.
Moore, who had never before beheld her
in such a state of confusion, suspected
that some serious calamity had taken
place; and,with much sympathetic feel-
ing, inquired into the occasion of her
perturbation. The lady, who felt the
cause of her vexation in all its magni-
tude, instantly returned the following
reply : “ VVhy, my dear sir,I yesterday
sent Comtesse de the politest mes-
sage in the world, begging to have the
honor of her company this day at din-
ner; and behold, the horrid woman,
with a rudeness or ignorance of life
without example, sends me word that
she accepts my invitation!”
(f ) THE LIAR TAKEN AT HIS
WORD.—-I W was a laborer
employed on the Liverpool and Man-
chester railway. During part of the
time in which he was thus employed, he
lodged at Edge Hill, near Liverpool.
There is reason to believe that he was
a young man who had “no fear of God
before his eyes ;” that he was, in the
expressive language of an inspired apos-
tle, “ without God in the world :” Eph.
ii. 12. Becoming acquainted with a
young woman, he succeeded in seducing


her from the paths of virtue; and soon‘
after, he removed to a new lodging, with
a view to avoid the consequences of his
conduct. The Almighty, in mercy to
the sinner, sent affliction by illness to
overtake him, and thus gave him time
for repentance, and an opportunity to
seek the love and favor of the Lord.
But he refused the mercy and hardened
his heart. In the course of the last
458
LYING.
252
'-_._
Week before he resumed his work, he
called upon the person with whom he
had formerly lodged, and among other
things, asked whether old George (the
young woman’s father) ever came there
to inquire after him. She replied that
he did, and mentioned the time of his
last inquiry. “ Oh,” said W——, “ when
he comes again, tell him that I was killed
on the railway; and that I was buri-
ed in Childwall churchyard.” Child-
wall is a village about a mile from part
of the railway, and about four miles
from Liverpool. Within a day or two
old George called, and the above iniqui-
tous and awful assertion was made. De-
eeived by the falsehood, the poor old
man went away mourning over the dis-
grace of his daughter, and the supposed
sad end of her base seducer. But the
delusion was soon to be dissipated ; the
lie told, with a view to evade the conse-
quences of previous guilt, was awfully,
singularly, literally realized; and the
wretched man, who had so impiously
trifled with death, was hurried, in a mo-
ment, before the bar of his Maker.
On the following Monday morning,
May 17, 1830, the laborer returned to
work, and on the same day entered up-
on his everlasting statd. Being on the
road at the time when an engine, to
which several wagons employed to con-
vey rubbish were attached, was passing
he was entangled with the apparatus,
felled to the earth,and his body so dread-
fully mangled, as to occasion instanta-
neous death. Thus the most affecting,
and, to him, important part of his w ick-
ed fabrication, was made, by the mys-
tcrious providence of God, a solemn re-
ality ; and that of which he had no idea
when he uttered the language above re-
lated, turned out, within a few days, to
be a fact, namely, “ That he was killed
on the railway 1”
But there was to be a further literal
accomplishment of his words, which,
although to him a matter of no conse-
quence after the spirit had quitted the
body, should not be passed over unob-
served, as it tends to show, in a still
more striking manner, that the Supreme
Arbiter of life and death does indeed
sometimes take men at their word, and
fulfil their imprecations, their thought-

less wishes, or their llasphemous ex-
pressions, even to the tery letter. J-—
W—— had no immediate relations in the
neighborhood in which he so unexpect-
edly expired. But since his removal
to Edge Hill, he had lodged with afam-
ily who possessed a burial-place in Child-
wall churchyard. Some of his fellow
workmen proposed his interment atWal-
ton, a village three miles north of Liver-
pool : but others, on account of the near-
ness of Child wall, urged his burial there:
and in a little more than a week after
he had deliberately uttered a falsehood
to deceive one he had deeply injured,
his own awful words were fulfilled.
(g) A LIAR’S IMPRECATION
ANSWERED.—A few years since, a.
woman in the Church Gate, Loughbo-
rough, (Eng.,) went to purchase a bed-
stead, which was sold to her for thirteen
shillings, and change given her out of a
one pound note, which she gave in pay-
ment. A short time after, she went
again to the shop, and asserted that
eighteen pence less than the proper
change was given her. This the shop-
keeper denied stating the exact coins
he had given her. She, however, per-
sisted in her declaration, and said, she
wished she might die in his house if she
had not spoken the truth. Awful to re-
late, she was immediately taken ill,
was removed to another house, and soon
after expired, never once speaking af-
ter she had left the shop. The money
was found in her pocket, exactly as the
shopkeeper had described.
(It) NEED OF VVATCHING.——Dr.
Johnson, giving advice to an intimate
friend, said, “Above all accustom your
children constantly to tell the truth,
without varying in any circumstance.”
A lady present, emphatically exclaim-
ed, “Nay, this is too much; for a little
variation in narrative must happen a
thousand times a day, if one is not per-
petually watching.” “VVell, madam,”
replied the doctor, “and you ought to
be perpetually watching. It is more
from carelessness about truth than from
intentional lying, that there is so much
falsehood in the world.”
(2') LYING, BLASPHEMING,AND
DYING.-—A poor woman in the work-
house at l\Iilborne Port, (Eng.,) being
459
253
MARRIAGE.
once charged with having stolen some
trivial article, which was missing, wish-
ed God might strike her dumb, blind,
per as well as usual——soon after, her
speech faltered, her eyes closed, and
before seven she was a breathless
and dead, if she knew any thing of corpse, without any apparent cause.
it. About six o’clock she ate her sup-
253. MARRIAGE.
(a) PHILIP HENRY’S ADVICE.
——The Rev. Philip Henry used to give
two pieces of advice to his children and
others, in reference to marriage. One
was, “Keep within the bounds of pro-
fession.” The other was, “ Look at
suitableness in age, quality, education,
temper,” etc. He used to observe, from
Gen. ii. 18, “I will make him an help
meet for him ;” that where there is not
meetness, there will not be much help.
He commonly said to his children, with
reference to their choice in marriage,
“ Please God, and please yourselves,
and you shall never displease me ;”
and greatly blamed those parents who
concluded matches for their children
without their consent. He sometimes
mentioned the saying of a pious gentle-
woman, who had many daughters :
“The care of most people is how to get
good husbands for their daughters ; but
my care is to fit my daughters to be
good wives, and then let God provide
for them.”
(6) MARRYING UN BELIEVERS.
-—The Rev. S. Kilpin, of Exeter,
had witnessed the awful consequences
produced in the church of Christ, and in
families, from those who professed to be
the disciples of J esus,forming marriages
contrary to the com mand,-—-“Be not
unequally yoked with unbelievers,”——
“ only in the Lord,” etc. As he never
shunned to declare the whole counsel of
God, this subject was presented to his
congregation. The next day, a gentle-
man, whose name or residence he never
knew, called to thank him for the dis
course, adding, that his state of mind
when he entered Exeter was most dis-
tressing, as he was on the very point of
complying with a dreadful temptation,
which would have embittered his future
life. He had been a disciple of Christ,
was anxious to consecrate his life to the
service of his adorable Master, and had
sought a helpmate to strengthen his
hands in serving God. A lady, whom
he deemed pious, had accepted his ad-
dresses; but when every customary
arrangement was made, she had dis-
honorably discarded him. His mind
was so exceedingly wounded and dis-
gusted, that he had determined to choose
a wife who made no profession of reli-
gion, and had fixed on another object for
his addresses, with every prospect of
success, although he had not as yet
mentioned his intention to her. He ad-
ded, “But the providence of God led
me, an entire stranger in this city, to
your meeting-house. You may sup-
pose, that your subject arrested my at-
tention. You appeared to be acquaint-
ed with every feeling of my soul. I
saw my danger, and perceived the
temptation, and the certain ruin of my
peace if the dreadful snare had not been
broken. You, sir, under God, have
been my deliverer. By the next Sab-
bath I should have been bound in honor
to an enemy of that Jesus whom I
adore; for although she is moral and
externally correct, yet she knows the
Saviour only in name. I could not leave
the city in peace until I had sought to
make this communication.” They
unitedly addressed Him who can deliver,
and does deliver his people. Thus,
while part of his congregation thought
it an unfit subject for the pulpit, at
least one person received it as a mess-
age from God, by whom it was no
doubt sent.
(0) CAN I BE HAPPY'!—-— At
Southampton, Eng., the labors of the
venerable William Kingsbury had been
eminently owned and blessed by God,
in the conversion of sinners, and the
building up of the church. “One Sab-
bath after the morning service, a respect-
460
MARRIAGE.
253
able-looking elderly woman had come “
to the vestry, and requested to speak to
Mr. Kingsbury. Being introduced, she
said, she felt it her duty to take the first
opportunity of meeting with him, to
state that his ministry had been greatly
blessed to her soul, and she hoped to
praise God for it to all eternity. Mr.
K. observed, that she was quite a stran-
ger to him, he did not recollect having
ever seen her before; and asked her
where she resided, and how long she
had attended his ministry. She replied,
that she was a total stranger: having
only heard him preach once before, and
that more than forty years since, when
she resided at Poole in Dorsetshire.
She was at that time young. gay, and
thoughtless ; and on the point of form-
ing a matrimonial connexion with a
young man of similar character. Ac-
cording to their usual custom, they set
out for a Sunday stroll; and having
heard that a stranger was preaching,
dropped in out of mere curiosity. The
preacher was Mr. Kingsbury ; it
pleased Almighty God to carry home
the word with power to her heart. She
returned home, no longer the giddy
thoughtless lover of pleasure; but
deeply concerned to know what she
should do to be saved. Her concern
could not escape the notice of her com-
panion, who endeavored to turn the
matter into ridicule ; but the “ King’s
arrow was sharp in her heart,” she
could not forget the wound it had in-
flicted; nor could she find ease until
relieved by the application of the
“blood of sprinkling.” The whole
bias of her mind and pursuits now as-
sumed a different direction ; the plea-
sures of the world had no more charms
for her ; she could no longer idle away
the precious hours of the Sabbath; she
desired to hold communion with God in
his house and ordinances. Under these
circumstances, it very naturally occur-
red to her, “ How_ can I make happy,
or be happy with a partner in life,
whose views and feelings on the most
important of all subjects are the very
opposite to my own 2” She pursued
the inquiry with fervent prayer for Di-
vine direction, and came to the conclu-
sion candidly to state to her lover tl;e

change of which she had become the
subject; and, though she felt herself
bound in honor to fulfil her engage-
ments to him, to appeal to him whether
the difference were not likely to be a
source of more lasting unhappiness be-
tween them, than an honorable dissolu-
tion of present engagements by mutual
consent. The young man admitted the
force of her reasonings ; he said he was
certain he should never imbibe her re-
ligious views, and he feared he should
be little inclined to tolerate them ; they
therefore agreed on a friendly separa-
tion. Feeling uncomfortable at residing
in the same town with her late compan-
ion, and where their intimacy was gen-
erally known, she gladly embraced an
opportunityof engaging herself to reside
with a pious family in the north of Eng-
land. There she became acquainted
with, and was in due time married to
one w ho feared God; with whom she
had ever since lived in domestic happi-
ness, and had brought up a family of
eight children, every one of whom she
had the happiness of seeing walking in
the ways of God, and two, or more, fill-
ing stations of distinguished usefulness
in the Christian church. One of the
sons had just returned from abroad in
ill health, and was at a hospital near
Portsmouth. This had occasioned the
mother’s journey, to conduct him home;
and, being in the neighborhood, she
gladly embraced the opportunity of
hearing and introducing herself to the
minister to whom she felt indebted, un-
der God, in everlasting obligations.
Her son, she feared, was in a very pre-
carious state of health; “But,” said
she, “I have good evidence that he is
safe for time and for eternity. Oh, how
different are my circumstances and
prospects from what they would have
been, if I had continued unconcerned
about my own soul, or even had mar-
ried an ungodly man, and become the
mother of an ungodly, or at best a divi-
ded family 1”
(cl) THE DELUSIVE HOPE.-—
If there is no relation in life so eminent-
ly calculated to promote the happiness
of man as aunion of “ kindred minds,”
in the matrimonal state; there is, on
the other hand, no condition so full of
461
253
M ARRIAGE.

wretchedness as that of two persons who
have, without any reflection, indissolu-
bly united themselves and who find sub-
sequently that all their views and feel-
:ngs are “wide as the poles asunder.”
None can think of E. without a feel-
ing of sadness. She was possessed of a
high order of intellectual talent, a grace-
ful person and a heart full of those ten-
der sympathies which cannot fail to
draw around their possessor, devoted
friends. She was, moreover, a Chris-
tian. Being addressed by a person who
was regarded by her friends as an “ eli~
gible match,” she at length consented
to a union with one who had but little
to recommend him, except the position
which mere wealth enabled him to oc-
cupy. “Although,” said she, “ he is
not professedly pious, he is not openly
profhgate, and Itrust I shall be enabled
to exert such an influence, by precept
and example, as shall eventuate in great
good to his soul.” Under this delusive
hope, she entered upon her duties as a
wife; but soon she discovered that in-
stead of leading her husband to the per-
formance of duty, there was danger of
being herself drawn aside.
In the daily conduct of her husband
she saw an exemplification of the truth,
that “ the natural heart is enmity against
God.” Bitter was her disappointment
when she saw her companion, in follow-
ing the dictates of his nature, wandering
farther and farther from the path of recti-
tude, and consequently becoming more
and more callous to good impressions.
Poor E ! she lived long enough
to see him who had sworn to cherish
and protect her, a drunkard, a gambler
and a suicide. And though “ in all her
miseries” she never uttered a complaint
yet as she laid down to die, wearied and
heart-broken by the sorrows of a few
brief years, she was doubtless ready to
acknowledge in her heart the great er-
ror of her life, in disregarding the in-
junction of the apostle, “ Be ye not un-
equally yoked together with unbeliev-
ers ; for what fellowship hath righteous-
ness with unrighteousness, and what
communion hath light with darkness '5”
(e) THE RESULTS OF A MAR-
RIAGE.——The following significant ac-
count is condensed fro m a more detailed
statement in one of the publications of
the American Tract Society. Mr. R.
A., of Maryland, with whom the writer
was well acquainted, because hopefully
pious at the age of twenty, and joined
the church. His life for some time
seemed consistent. At length he formed
an attachment to a gay young lady, of
great personal attractions, but an entire
stranger to religion. She was by no
means pleased with his religious views,
but consented to the marriage in spite
of them, thinking that in due time she
would be able to cure him of his reli-
gious frenzy. She soon commenced the
attempt. She urged him to go to places
of diversion and amusement-—told him
that respectable persons would despise
and laugh at him for having so much
praying and reading in his house. “ In
fine,” said she, “I married you to be
happy, but I utterly despair of happi-
ness unless you give up your religion
and be like other people.” He told her
that he never found happiness in the
way she proposed, and tried, like a
Christian, to reason the case. Finding
her efforts to change his mind unavail- \
ing, she refused to attend family devo-
tion. He wept and prayed for her in
secret. She continued to employ every
stratagem her wicked imagination could
invent. At length, wearied by her op-
position, he gave up family prayer, and
resolved that he would try to get to
heaven alone. His wife pursued him to
the closet, and at last succeeded in driv-
ing him to abandon every religious duty.
And now that he forsook God, God for-
sook him; and the corruptions of his
heart broke out into greater excesses
than before. Some time after a power-
ful sermon roused his conscience, and
be determined once more to enter upon
the service of God; but he was still in
an enemy’s hands, and less able to resist
than at first. His wife redoubled her
efforts, and gained her point the second
time. Now, wholly quitting the com-
pany of God’s people, he sinned fearful-
ly. In a few years he was laid on a
bed of death. He was in awful anguish
of mind—-full of remorse and despair.
He refused to be prayed with, insist-
ing that his doom was already sealed.
Just before his departure, after he had
A62
MEEKNESS.
253,254
been rolling from side to side for some
time, with horror depicted in every fea-
ture, he called to his wife to bring him
a cup of cold water; “for,” said he,
“ in one hour I shall be where I shall
never get another drop.” She brought
him the water; he drank it with greedi-
ness, and reached back the cup with a
trembling hand; then staring her in the
face, his eyes flashing with terror, he
cried out, “ Rebecca, Rebecea, you are
the cause of my eternal damnation.”
He turned over, and with an awful
groan left the world.
(f) A WISE DECISION.-—Eliza
A1nbert, a young Persian lady, reso-
lutely discarded a gentleman to whom
she was to have been married, because
he ridiculed religion. Having given

him a gentle reproof, he replied “ that a
man of the world could not be so old-
fashioned as to regard God and religion.”
Eliza started, but, on recovering herself,
said, “ From this moment, sir, when I
discover that you do not regard religion,
I cease to be yours. He who does not
love and honor God can never love his
wife constantly and sincerely.”
(g) ADVICE OF TH EMIST OCLES.
—-An Athenian who was hesitating
whether to give his daughter in mar-
riage to a man of worth with a small
fortune, or to a rich man who had no
other recommendation, went to consult
Themistocles on the subject. “ I would
bestow my daughter,” said Themisto-
cles, “ upon a man without money rather
than upon money without a man.”
254:. MEEKNESS.
a) DEERING EN DURING IN-
S LT.—Mr. Deering, one of the puri-
tan ministers in the sixteenth century,
being at a public dinner, a young man,
who sat on the opposite side of the table,
indulged in profane swearing, for which
Mr. D. sharply reproved him. The
young man, taking this as an affront,
immediately threw a glass of beer in
his face. Mr. Deering took no notice
of the insult, but wiped his face, and
continued his dinner. The young gen-
tleman presently renewed his profane
conversation; and Mr. D. reproved him
as before; upon which, but with in-
creased violence, he threw another glass
of beer in his face. Hr. Deering con-
tinued unmoved, still showing his zeal
for the glory of God, by hearing the in-
sult with Christian meekness. This so
astonished the young gentleman that he
rose from the table, fell on his knees,
and asking Mr. Deering’s pardon, de-
clared that if any of the company
had offered him similar insults, he
would have stabbed them with his
sword. Here was practically verified
the New Testament maxim, “Be not
overcome of evil, but overcome evil
with good.”
(I2) PERSECUTING HUSBAND
SUBDUED.—-A woman who had de-

rived spiritual benefit from the discours-
es of Mr. Robinson of Leicester, was
often threatened by her wicked husband
for going to St. Mary’s church, in which
Mr. R. officiated. His feelings were at
length wrought up to such a pitch that
he declared, with an awful oath, that if
ever she went to St. Mary’s again, he
would cut off her legs. Having sought
direction in prayer, she was strengthen-
ed to go to the place where oft she had
been made joyful in the Lord. On her
return from church, she found her hus-
band waiting her arrival, and as soon as
she had shut the door, he said in an an-
gry tone. “ Where have you been?”
She replied, “At St. Mary’s.” He in-
stantly struck her a violent blow on the
face, and she fell to the ground; but
rising from the floor, she tu‘rned the
other side of her face, and in a mild
and affectionate manner said, “ My dear,
if you serve this side the same, I hope I
shall bear it with patience.” Struck
with this meek answer, for she had been
a very passionate woman, he said,
“ VVhere did you learn that l ” She
replied, in a gentle manner, “At St.
Mary’s church, my dear.” “ Well,”
said he, “if that is what you learn at
St. Mary’s, you may go as oft as you
like, I will never hinder you again'
463
254, 255
MEMORY AND PIETY.

This good woman enjoyed her privi-
leges undisturbed, and also had the
pleasure, a short time afterwards, of
having her husband to accompany her.
(0) MEEKNESS OF DODD.-—It is
said of Mr. Dodd, one of the puritan di-
vines, that a person being enraged at
his close and awakening doctrine, raised
a quarrel with him, smote him in the
face, and dashed out two of his teeth,
This meek and lowly servant of Christ,
without taking the least offence, held
the teeth out in his hand, and said,
“ See here. you have knocked out two
of my teeth without any just provoca-
tion; but ifl could do your soul good,
I would give you leave to dash out all
the rest.” Thus he was not overcome
of evil, but overcame evil with good.
(cl) MEEKNESS OF M. HENRY.
—-It is well known, that many of the
most eminent ministers of Christ, dur-
ing the seventeenth century, were the
subjects of great persecution. Among
others who were thus cruelly treated
was the excellent Matthew Henry; but
when maligned and reproached, he
showed great meekness and patience;
and, instead of rendering evil for evil,
requited it with good; ever seeking to
improve such occurrences for his own
advancement in Christian virtue. “How
pleasant is it,” he would say, “ to have
the bird in the bosom sing sweetly.”
(e) MEEKNESS CF LEIGHTON.
—-Of Bishop Leighton, Bishop Burnet
declared that during a strict intimacy
of many years, he never saw him for
one moment in any other temper than
that in which he would wish to live and
die.
( ) THE MISSIONARIES AND
THE I-IlNDCO.——A baboo, (that is, a
wealthy Hindoo,) at Chinsurah, sent a
message to the missionaries residing

there, intimating that a very learned
Brahmin was in his house, and that he
and his friends very much wished to
hear this Brahmin and the missionaries
engage in an amicable dispute respect
ing the merits of Hindooism and Chris-
tianity. Two of the missionaries went.
The Brahmin opened the debate, charg-
ed the missionaries with bad motives,
and misrepresented their doctrines in an
ill-tempered manner.
The missionaries stated in reply, that
Christianity was a religion of love; that
God so loved the world as to send his
only-begotten Son, the Lord Jesus
Christ into it; that the Son of God so
loved the fallen race of man as to give
his life a sacrifice for their sins; and
that missionaries were impelled to leave
their beloved relatives and friends, and
the comforts of their native home, from
the same principle. They then explain-
ed the leading truths of Christianity,
the substance of which was, that all
men every where ought to worship that
God that made them, and to worship
him alone.
The Brahmin’s countenance under- \
went a change as the missionaries were
speaking, and in his rejoinder he said,
“I am a Brahmin, and cannot, there-
fore, be expected to say, that Ideem
Christianity to be superior to Hindoo-
ism; but, in candor,I must say, that
the temper of these Christians is supe-
rior to that of us Hindoos. Gentle-
men,” the Brahmin said, turning to the
missionaries, “ your temper is boro
]97"01'th0nec0,'” that is, greatly t be
prayed for. “We took our leave, say
the missionaries, “convinced that the
cause of Christianity had that day risen
in the opinion of some influential in-
habitants of Chinsurah.”
255. MEMORY AND PIETY.
(a) PRACTICAL lVIEMCRY.--A
minister in Wiltshire, walking near a
brook, observed a poor woman washing
wool in the stream; which is done by
placing it in a sieve, and dipping it in
the water repeatedly, until it is white
and clean. He engaged in conversation
with her, and, from some expressions
of regret and gratitude which she ut-
tered, was induced to ask her if she
4:
MERIT OF GOOD WL RKS.
255,256
knew him. “O yes, sir,” she replied,
“ and I hope I shall have reason to bless
God for you to all eternity. I heard
you preach at W , some years
back; and hope your sermon was the
means of doing me great good.’
“ Indeed, I rejoice to hear it; pray
what was the subject ’?” “ Ah, sir, I
can’t recollect that; mine is such a bad
head.” “How then can it have done
you good, if you don’t even remember
it '2” “Sir, my poor mind is like this
sieve ; the sieve doesn’t hold the water,
out it runs through and cleanses the
wool: my memory does not keep the
words, but, blessed be God, he made
them touch the heart: and now I don’t
love sin ; I go whenever I can to hear
of Jesus Christ; and I beg of him every
day to wash me in his own blood, which
cleanses from all sin.”

256. MERIT OF
(a) NIGHT UNDER A HEDGE.
--A poor blind man, by the name of
Philip (writes a minister from Ireland)
who was also very deaf and imbecile, be-
ing a member of my congregation, I in-
terested myself to give him particular
instructions in the plan of salvation,
hoping, by patience, perseverance, and
plainness, to make him understand the
simplest truths of the Gospel ; yet after a
long time, and much labor, I found that
not the least impression had been made.
One day, (after having visited him for a
year,) I repeatedly told him that in
the Lord Jesus Christ alone was found
salvation for sinners, and then begged
of him to tell me how he hoped to be
saved. He considered for a time, the
perspiration pressing through every
pore of his face, and replied in the
most placid manner I ever witnessed:
“ Don’t you think, sir, that if I was to
spend a cold frosty night under a haw-
thorn bush, it would go a good way to-
wards it?” He afterwards, however,
oecame a humble believer, and trusted
in Christ alone for salvation.
How many persons of vastly better
advantages, have just as absurd and
unscriptural views of the plan of salva-

(b) TWO THINGS REMEMBER-
ED.—-Rev. Mr. Newton, when his me
mory was nearly gone, used to say,
that forget what he might, he never for-
get two thmgs,-—-1st, That he was 1
great sinner,——-2d. That Jesus Christ
was a great Savior. Two most import
ant subjects of recollection.
(c) NEWTON'S MEMORY OF
SCRIPTURE.—Mr. Newton, telling in
company one day, how much his me-
mory was decayed, “There,” said he.
“last \Vednesday, after dinner, I asked
Mrs. C what I ..ad been about that
forenoon, for I could not recollect.
Why, said she you have been preach-
ing at St. Mary’s. Yet it is wonderful,
when I am in the pulpit, I can recollect
any passage of Scripture I want to in-
troduce into my sermon, from Genesis
to Revelation.”

GOOD WORKS.
tion as the subject of the ioregoing
sketch 2 Men are much more disposed
to attach merit to their own sufferings,
than to rely on the sufferings of Christ.
But the first principle of salvation for
the sinner to learn is, that he cannot
save himself.
(6) THE NOBLEMAN’S MIS-
TAKE —-—The late Rev. C. J. Latrobe
visited a certain nobleman in Ireland,
who devoted considerable sums to
charitable purposes; and, among other
benevolent acts, had erected an elegant
church at his own expense. The
nobleman, with great pleasure, showed
Mr. L. his estate, pointed him to the
church, and said, “Now, sir, do you
not think that will merit heaven '2” Mr.
Latrobe paused for a moment, and said,
“ Pray, my lord, what may your estate
be worth a year ?” “ I imagine,” said
the nobleman, “ about thirteen or four-
teen thousand pounds.” “ And do you
think, my lord,” answered the minister,
“that God would sell heaven, even for
thirteen or fourteen thousand pounds?”
(0) IMPIOUS EPITAPH.—-The fol.
lowing epitaph is inscribed upon a
monument in one of the Roman Catholic
chapels, in the city of Cork :--" J. H. S
465
256
MERIT OF GOOD WORKS.
_----—~-

Sacred to the memory of the benevolent
Edward Molloy, the friend of humanity,
the father of the poor; he employed the
wealth of this world, only to procure
the ricnes of the next; and leaving a
balance of merit on the book of life, he
made heaven debtor to mercy. He died
17th October, 1818, aged 90. R J. P.”
How daring the impiety of making the
Creator debtor to his creature !
((1) ELLIOT AND HIS LABORS.
-—When Mr. John Elliot, from advanced
age and infirmities, was laid aside from
his former employments, he sometimes
said, with an air peculiar to himself,
“ I wonder for what the Lord Jesus lets
me live. He knows that now I can do
nothing for him.” Speaking of his
labors among the American Indians, he
expressed himself thus :-—“ There is a
cloud, a dark cloud, on the work of the
gospel among the poor Indians. The
Lord revive and prosper that work. and
grant that it may live, when I am dead.
It is a work which I have been doing
much about. But what have I said '2
I recall that word. My doings! Alas!
they have been poor, and small, and I
will be the man that shall throw the
first stone at them.” He died in 1690,
aged eighty-six.
(e) UNSUCCESSFUL PREACH-
ING.—-“ I preached up sanctification
very earnestly for six years in a former
parish,” says the Rev. Mr. Bennet in a
letter, “and never brought one soul to
Christ. I did the same at this parish,
for two years, without having any suc-
cess at all ; but as soon as ever I
preached Jesus Christ, and faith in his
blood, then believers were added to the
church occasionally ; then people flock-
ed from all parts to hear the glorious
sound of the gospel, some coming six,
others eight, and others ten miles, and
that constantly. The reason why my
ministry was not blessed, when I
preached up salvation partly by faith,
and partly by works, is, because the
doctrine is not of God.”
HERVEY AND THE
PLOUGHMAN.--In the parish where
Mr. Hervey preached, when be inclined
to loose sentiments, there resided a
ploughman, who usually attended the;
ministry of Dr. Doddridge, and was well ,

informed in the doctrines of grace. Mr-
Hervey being advised by his physician,
for the benefit of his health, to follow the
plough, in order to smell the fresh earth,
frequently accompanied this ploughman
in his rural employment. Mr. Hervey,
understanding the ploughman was a
serious person, said to him one morning,
“ VVhat do you think is the hardest
thing in religion?” To which he re-
plied, “I am a poor illiterate man, and
you, sir, are a minister: I beg leave to
return the question.” “Then,” said
Mr. Hervey, “I think the hardest thing
is to deny sinful self ;” and applauded
at some length, this irfstance of self-
denial. The ploughman replied, “ Mr.
Hervey, you have forgotten the greatest
act of the grace of self-denial, which is
to deny ourselves of a proud confidence
in our own obedience for justification.”
In repeating this story to a friend, Mr.
Hervey observed : “ I then hated the
righteousness of Christ : I looked at the
man with astonishment and disdain, and
thought him an old fool. I have since
clearly seen who was the fool ; not the
wise old Christian, but the proud Jana s
Hervey.”
(g) BISHOP ASBURY’S TESTI-
MONY.--Bishop Asbury being asked
his thoughts on imputed righteousness,
observed, “ Were I disposed to boast,
my boasting would be found true. I
obtained religion near the age of thir-
teen. At the age of sixteen I began to
preach, and traveled some time in Eu-
rope. At twenty-six I left my native land,
and bid adieu to my weeping parents, and
crossed the boisterous ocean, to spend
the balance of my days in a strange
land, partly settled by savages. I
have traveled through heat and cold for
forty-five years. In thirty years I have
crossed the Alleghany mountains fifty-
eight times. I have often slept in the
woods, without necessary food or rai-
ment. In the southern states I have
waded swamps, and led my horse for
miles, where I took colds that brought
on the diseases which are now preying
on my system, and must soon terminal‘
in death. But my mind is still the
same, that it is through the merits of
CHRIST I am to be saved.”
466
MERIT OF GOOD WORKS.
256
-Q0----
(lt) WlLKINSON’S DYING CON.
FESSION.—When the venerable Mr.
Wilkinson had reached nearly the close
Jf his life, he said to a relative who
came to visit him, and who attempted to
cheer him by referring to his Christian
character, "Ah, you cannot see my
heart. It has always been my endeavor
not only to abstain from evil, but from
all appearance of evil--but I would be
jealous of my own heart. The heart is
deceitful above all things, and des-
perately wicked: who can know it?
I/Vell, I must do as I have ten thousand
times before under such feelings, cast
myself entirely on the mercy of God.
‘God be merciful to me a sinner ’—the
vilest of sinners! and, after all I have
received, a most ungrateful sinner! I
shall never get beyond that prayer.”
(Q PRAYER AND GOOD
WORKS:-“ It has been often ob-
served,” says Dr. Owen, in his Doctrine
of .Iustifieation,\“ that the schoolmen
themselves, in their meditations and de-
votional writings, speak a language
quite different from that which they use
in their disputes and controversies 5 and
I had rather learn what men really
think on this head from their prayers
than from their writings. Nor do I
remember that I ever heard any good
man, in his prayers, use any expressions
about justification, wherein any thing
of self-righteousness was introduced.
Nor have I observed that any public
liturgies (the Mass-Book excepted),
guide men in their prayers before God
to plead any thing for their acceptance
with him, or as the means or condition
thereof, but grace, mercy, the righteous-
ness and blood of Christ alone.”
CHALMERS’ CONFESSION.
—--Dr. Chalmers, who preached the
liberal system twelve years, and after
this the evangelical, says, “I cannot but
record the effect of an actual though
undcsigned experiment which I prose-
cuted for upwards of twelve years
among you. For the greater part of
that time, I could expati-ate on the
meanness of dishonesty, on the villany
of falsehood, on the despicable arts of
calumny, in a word, upon all those de-
formities of character which awaken
the natural indignation of the human

heart against the pests and disturbers
of human society. Even at this time I
certainly did press the reformations of
honor, and truth, and integrity, among
my people; but I never once heard
of any such reformations having been
effected amongst them. If there was
any thing at all brought about in this
way, it was more than ever I got any
account of. I am not sensible, that all
the vehemence with which I urged the
virtues and proprieties of social life, had
the weight of a feather on the moral
habits of my parishioners. And it was
not until I got impressed by the utter
alienation of the heart in all its desires
and affections from God , it was not till
reconciliation to Him became the dis_
finct and prominent object of my
ministerial efforts, it was not till I took
the scriptural way of laying the method
of reconciliation before them, it was not
till the free offer of forgiveness through
the blood of Christ was urged upon their
acceptance, and the Holy Ghost given
through the channel of Christ’s media-
torship to all who ask him, was set
before them as the unceasing object of
their dependence and their prayers; it
was not, in one word, till the contempla-
tions of my people were turned to these
great and essential elements in the busi-
ness of a soul providing for its interest
with God, and the concerns of its eter-
nity, that I ever heard of any of those sub-
ordinate reformations which I aforetime
made the earnest and zealous, but I am
afraid, at the same time, the ultimate
object of my earlier administrations.”
(It) CONVERTED MORALIST’S
CONFESSION.--In a revival in one
of the New England states, one of the
subjects was a moralist, who is thus
described by an acquaintance:
He was a young gentleman, of good
natural abilities, of respectable stand-
ing in society, and of irreproachable in-
tegrity. In his dealings with others he
was accounted strictly honorable, and
his exemplary observance of the ex_
ternals of religion gained him the ap-
pellation of “ very moral.” He was also
“ righteous in his own eyes.” Though
he gave full credence to the word of
God, and professed to believe the ne-
cessity of regeneration and justification
467
256
MERIT OF GOOD WORKS.

by the righteousness of Christ, yet he
was often heard to assert, that he feared
not to enter eternity, and appear before
his Judge. He believed that, according
to his ability, he had complied with all
the requisitions of .Iehovah’s law, and
that the Redeemer would at last re-
ceive his soul, and wash it from all its
original pollution. One thing however
was against him : the discriminating doc-
trines of the cross were ever offensive.
But the Spirit of the Most High has
lately unveiled to him his heart, and
taught him the spirit of the divine law.
His convictions were long and pungent.
VVith tears and heart-rending repent-
ance he confessed his former blindness,
his ignorance of himself and of God,
and was constrained to cry aloud for
the mercy of Heaven to save his soul.
The Savior heard him, and appeared for
his relief. His joys, though humble,
were ecstatic, and his soul seemed to be
“ filled with the fullness of God.” Since
that time his triumphing spirit has left
the world, and joined the assembly of
the redeemed above. In his dying
moments he left with a friend the fol-
lowing charge to me :
“ Tell that his moral friend has
found himself to be immoral, zmho(y, and
unclean. Tell him also that his friend
has found salvation in the blood of
Jesus, and is now going to join his Re-
deemer in the heavens. Tell him to
charge the young and giddy that for all
their follies God will bring them into
judgment-that if they would procure
peace of conscience, and solid enjoy-
ment, they must believe in the Infinite
Savior, and experience the benefits of
the infinite atonement. Tell him to
make use of my case in warning sin-
ners to flee from the wrath to come,
with the earnest prayer that my death
may be the means of converting some
soul. Tell him the world is receding.
Farewell.”
(Z) THE PLANK OF FREE
GRACE.-——Mr. M’Laren, and Mr. Gus-
tart, were both ministers of the Tolbooth
Church, Edinburgh. When Mr. M’-
Laren was dying, Mr. G. paid him a
visit, and put the question to him,
“What are you doing, brother '2” His

answer was, “I’ll tell you what I am
doing, brother; I am gathering together
all my prayers, all my sermons, all my
good deeds, all my ill deeds ; and I am
going to throw them all overboard, and
swim to glory on the plank of Free
Grace.”
(m) POPULAR PREACHING.-—A
Christian minister once said to a So-
cinian preacher, “ You are always tell-
ing people the worth of their good works,
flattering them, dzc. ; now we tell them
of their depravity, sinfulness, and dan-
ger; yet few come and hear you, while
our houses are filled. Can you assign
a reason for this '2” He said he could
not. “ Well,” said the minister, “I
will tell you; there is a conviction on
people’s minds, that what we preach is
truth, and what you preach is false-
hood.”
(n) REASON FOR PREACHING
CHRlST.——The Rev. Mr. Venn, an
evangelical and faithful minister of
Christ, was one day addressed by a
neighoring clergyman in nearly the
following words: “ Mr. Venn, I don’t
know how it is, but I should really think
your doctrines of grace and faith were
calculated to make all your hearers
live in sin, and yet I must own that
there is an astonishing reformation
wrought in your parish; whereas I
don’t believe I ever made one soul the
better, though I have been telling them
their duty for many years.” Mr. Venn
was pleased at the clergyman’s honest
confession, and frankly told him he
would do well to burn all his old ser-
mons, and try what preaching Christ
would do.
(0) PLACE TO LOSE SELF.-—
A person who had long practised many
austerities, without finding any comfort
or change of heart, was once complain-
ing to the Bishop of Alst of his state.
“Alas,” said he, “self-will and self-
righteousness follow me every where.
Only tell me when you think I shall
learn to leave self. Will it be by
study, or prayer, or good works?” “I
think,” replied the bishop, “that the
place where ycu lose self, will be that
where you find your Savior.”
4i‘~8
MINISTERS,
MINISTERS,
Q57. Cal to the Ministry.
(J) DR. DODDRIDGE’S CALL.-
When Dr. Doddridge was a young man,
and had an earnest desire to engage in
the duties of the Christian ministry, he
waited upon Dr. E. Calamy on the sub-
ject. The doctor advised him to turn
his attention to some other pursuit.
Young Doddridge felt grieved to receive
such advice, but after a few weeks re-
solved to enter on the study of the law.
His mind was yet agitated, and he re-
solved to devote a morning to special
prayer before he formed his final deci-
sion. While thus engaged, the postman
brought him a letter from Dr. Clarke,
telling him he had heard of his diffi-
culties, and was ready to receive him
under his care, to prepare him for his
future important duties. He very pro-
p)erly regarded this as an instance of the
ivine goodness, and to this fact may
be attributed, under God, his subsequent
usefulness in the Christian church.
(6) A KEEN RETORT.—A writer
in the Georgetown Baptist Herald, says,
“A preacher, not one hundred miles
from this, while contending, as he
thought, for the “ancient order of
things,” by ridiculing the doctrine of
a call to the ministry, as proof that there
is no such call, observed, that he never
believed he was called to preach,—-
“ And no Person else ever believed it,”
said an acquaintance standing by.
(0) THE FARMER BECOMING
A MINlSTER.~—The late Rev. R.

Hill writes thus :——-A certain farmer, ,
well known to me, was always moral,
yet ignorant of the gospel. By reading
some of the sermons of the late Mr. Ro_ I
maine, he was called to the knowledge '
of the truth. The farmer was a man
of good sense and great integrity ; and
he now conceived his domestics should
not live without family worship. In his
kitchen the Bible was always as much
in sight as the bacon-rack; and when
he read the Bible to them, he could not
out express the simple feelings of his


CHRISTIAN. 257, 258
CHRISTIAN.
heart. He wept, and they wept in con~
cert. And in prayer, he found he was
not wanting in “ the spirit of grace and
of supplications.” Thus being enabled
to tell his own wants before his family,
they began to find out their wants also.
This answered the end. The family
was filled with surprise, and they sur-
prised their neighbors, who stole in to
unite in this worship. They now re-
quested him to preach ; but the modest
farmer resisted the call. He had a
gracious sister, who charged him not to
fight against God, for that others, be-
sides his own family, were benefited
by their attendance. The farmer con-
sented ; yet he was no enthusiast, but a
solid, pious, thinking man, and had a
good knowledge of his Bible: and no
man of good sense, though he has nei-
ther Greek, Latin, nor logic, will ever
talk nonsense. Thus he commenced a
preacher, and was wonderfully blessed :
quite the apostle, the reformer of the
neighborhood. The generous public
speedily accommodated the farmer with
a convenient place of worship, in the
town. The farmer was solemnly or-
dained to the pastoral charge, and the
communion among them was very seri-
ously and largely attended
968. Industry, Energy, and Devotion to
their Work.
(a) INDUSTRY OF LUTHER.-—
From 1517 to 1526, the first ten years
of the Reformation, the number of Lu_
ther’s publications was three hundred ;
from 1527 to 1536, the second decade,
the number was two hundred and thirty-
two; and 1537 to 1546, the year of his
death, the number was one hundred and
eio‘hty-three. His first book was pub.
lisahed in November, 1517, and he died
in February, 1546, an interval of twenty-
nine years and four months. In this
time he published seven hundred and
fifteen, an average of nnre than twenty-
five a year, or one a fortnigh of his
public life. He did not go through the
manual labor of all this writing, it is
469
MINISTERS,
CHR ISTI AN.

true, for many of his published works
were taken down from his lips by his
friends; and it is also true, that several
of the volumes were small enough in
size to be denominated pamphlets ; but
many of them are also large and elabo-
rate treatises. In the circumstances in
which he wrote, his translation of the
Bible alone, would have been a gigantic
task, even if he had his lifetime to de-
vote to it.
(b) LABORS OF CALVIN.——Dr.
Hoyle, who wrote under the patronage
of Archbishop Usher, mentioning Calvin,
says, “ What shall I speak of Iris inde-
fatigable industry, almost beyond the
power of nature ; which, paralleled
with our loitering, will,I fear, exceed all
credit! It may be the truest object of
admiration, how one lean, worn, spent,
and wearied body could hold out. He
read, every week of the year through,
three divinity lectures; every other
week, over and above, he preached
every day : so that (as Erasmus said of
Chrysostom) I know not whether more
to admire his constancy, or theirs that
heard him. Some have reckoned his
yearly lectures to be one hundred and
eighty-sz'ar, and his yearly sermons two
hundred and eighty-six. Every Thurs-
day he sat in the presbytery. Every
Friday, when the ministers met to con-
sult upon difficult texts, he made as good
as a lecture. Besides all this, there
was scarcely a day that exercised him
not in answering, either by word of
mouth or writing, the doubts and ques-
t1ons of different churches and pastors ;
so that he might say with Paul, ‘ The
care of all the churches lieth upon me.’
Scarcely a year passed wherein, over
and above all these employments, some
great volume, in folio, or other size,
came not forth.”
This celebrated man, even in his dy-
ing illness, would not refrain from his
labors ; but, when his friends endea\ or-
ed to persuade him to ease himself, he
replied, “What! shall my Lord come
and find me idle '2”
(c) DEATH IN VIEI/V.—Some
_‘;ears ago, the Rev. Dr. Henry Peck-
well stepped into a dissecting room and
touched one of the dead bodies, forget-
ting that he had just before accidentally


cut his finger. He became diseased
and the doctors who were called in pro-
nounced the accident fatal. At that
time worship was held at the Taber-
nacle, Moorfields, on a Friday evening.
Conscious of his approaching death, the
good man ascended the pulpit, and
preached in so powerful a strain as to
make many of his audience weep. At
the conclusion, he told the audience that
it was his farewell sermon,——“ not like
the ordinary farewell sermons of the
world, but more impressive, from the
circumstances, than any preached be-
fore. My hearers shall long bear it in
mind, when this frail earth is moulder-
ing in its kindred dust I” The congre-
gation could not conjecture his mean-
ing, but on the following Sabbath an un-
known preacher ascended the pulpit,
and informed them that their pious
minister had breathed his last on the pre-
ceding evening.
(d) WAITING THE LORD’S
TIME.—When the Rev. George White-
field was last in America, the Rev. W.
T ennent paid him a visit, as he was
passing through New Jersey ; and one
day dined with him, and other ministers,
at a gentleman’s house. After dinner,
Mr. W. adverted to the difficulties at-
tending the gospel ministry; lamented
that all their zeal availed but little;
said, that he was weary with the bur-
den of the day ; and declared the great
consolation, that in a short time his work
would be done, when he should depart
and be with Christ. He then appealed
to the ministers if it was not their great
comfort that they should soon go to rest.
They generally assented, except Mr. T.
who sat next to Mr. W. in silence, and
by his countenance discovered but little
pleasure in the conversation. On which
Mr. W. tapping him on the knee said,
“Well, brother Tennent, you are the
oldest man among us; do you not re-
joice to think that your time is so near
at hand, when you will be called home '2”
Mr. T. bluntly answered, “I have no
wish about it.” Mr. W. pressed him
again. Mr. T. again again answered,
“No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at
all; and if you knew your duty, it
would be none to you. I have nothing
to do with death ; my business is to live
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INDUSTRY, ENERGY, DEVOTION, ETC.

258
I-—dl—‘-" —

as long as I can, as well as I can, and
to serve my Master as faithfully as I
can, until he shall think proper to call
me home.” Mr. W. still urged for an
explicit answer to his question, in case
the time of death were left to his own
choice. Mr. T. replied, “I have no
choice about it; I am God’s servant,
and have engaged to do his business as
long as he pleases to continue me there-
in. But now, brother, let me ask
you a question. What do you think I
should say, if I were to send my man
into the field to plough ; and if at noon
I should go to the field, and find him
lounging under a tree, and complaining,
‘ Master, the sun is very hot, and the
ploughing hard ; I am weary of the work
you have appointed me, and am ever-
done with the heat and burden of the
day. Do, master, let me return home,
and be discharged from this hard ser-
vice ’Z’ \/V hat should I say’.2 Why,
that he was a lazy fellow, and that it
his business to do the work that I had
appointed him, until I should think fit
to call him home.”
(6) MR. W'ILKS AND HIS MAS-
TER’S BUSINESS -—An aged Ame-
rican minister states, that in the early
part of his ministry, being in London,
he called on the late Rev. Matthew
Wilks. Mr. W. received him with
courtesy, and entered into conversation,
which was kept up briskly till the most
important religious intelligence in pos-
session of each had been imparted.
Suddenly there was a pause—it was
broken by Mr. \/V. “Have you any
thing more to communicate '2” “No,
nothing of special interest.” , “Any
further inquiries to make '2” “ None.”
“Then you must leave me; I have my
Master’s business to attend to——good
morning.” “ Here,” says the minister,
“I received a lesson on the impropriety
of intrusion, and on the most manly me-
thod of preventing it.”
BUNYAN’S ZEAL.——Bunyan,
with irresistible zeal, preached through-
out the country, especially in Bedford-
shire and its neighborhood ; until, on the
restoration of Charles II, he was thrown
into prison, where he remained twelve
years. During his confinement he
preached to all to whom he could gain

access; and when liberty was offered tc
him, on condition of promising to abstair
from preaching, he constantly replied,
“ If you let me out to-day, I shall preach
again to-morrow.”
(g) BAXTER’S LABORS.--The
eminently pious Richard Baxter, after
he had spent many years in the ad-
vancement of the glory of God, byla-
borious and constant preaching, un-
ceasing pastoral labors, and numerous
publications from the press, was yet un-
willing to give himself case, even amidst
the infirmities of disease and age. An
old gentleman, who heard him preach,
related, that when he ascended the pul-
pit, with a man following him to pre-
vent his falling backwards, and to sup-
port him, if needful, in the pulpit, many
persons would be ready to say he
was more fit for a coffin than for labor;
but all this he would soon forget, and
manifest the fervor and energy of youth
in his labors. It was feared, the last
time he preached, that he would have
died in the pulpit. And yet, such was
his humility, that when reminded of his
labors on his death-bed, he replied, “ I
was but a pen in God’s hand, and what
praise is due to a pen ?”
(h) PREPARING FOR THE
PULPIT.—-Mr. Thomas Shephard was
an excellent preacher, and took great
pains in his preparations for the pulpit.
He used to say, “ God will curse that
man’s labors who goes idly up and down
all the week, and then goes into his
study on a Saturday afternoon. God
knows that we have not too much time
to pray in, and weep in, and get our
hearts into a fit frame for the duties of
the Sabbath.”
(2') LATIMER’S LABORS.---Every
season of a religious revival has been
marked by ministerial zeal and dili-
gence. These features eminently dis-
tinguished the British reformers. La-
timer, in particular, was remarkable for
his care in preaching and visiting every
part of his diocese, earnestly trying to
reform whatever was amiss. Although
advanced in life, he traveled continual-
ly from place to place, teaching. ex-
horting, and preaching, to the utmost of
his ability. These journeys were most-
ly performed on foot, with few attend-
471
258
MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN.
ants, in a plain dress, with a pair of
spectacles, and a New Testament hang-
ing at his girdle. Wherever he went
he preached to the people; and if he
found a number assembled together,
and no church at hand, he did not he-
sitate to preach to them in any place
which offered, and sometimes used a
hollow tree for a pulpit.
IMPOSSIBLE TO STOP
PREACI-IlNG.—Mr. Cecil tells us that
when Mr. Newton had passed eighty
years of age, some of his friends feared
he might continue his public ministra-
tions too long. They not only observed
hi-s infirmities in the pulpit, but felt
much on account of the decrease of his
strength, and of his occasional depres-
sions. On these things being men-
tioned to him, he replied, that he had
experienced nothing which in the least
affected the principles he had felt and
taught; that his depressions were the
natural result of fourscore years; and
that, at any age, we can only enjoy that
comfort from our principles which God
is pleased to send. “ But,” it was ask-
ed, “ in the article of public preaching,
might it not be best to consider your
work as done, and to stop before you evi-
dently discover that you can speak no
longer?” “I cannot stop,” said he,
raising his voice. “What! shall the
old African blasphemer stop while he
can speak '2”
(k) PAYSON’S LOVE FOR
PREACHING.—N ever has the ruling
passion been more strongly exemplified
in the hour of death than in the case of
this excellent American minister. His
love for preaching was as invincible as
that of the miser for gold, who dies
grasping his treasure. He directed a
label to be attached to his breast when
dead, with the admonition, “ Remember
the words which I spake unto you while
[was yet present with you ;” that they
might be read by all Who came to look
at his corpse, and by which he, being
dead, still spoke. The same words
were at the request of his people en-
graved on the plate of the coffin, and
read by thousands on the day of his in-
rerment.
(Z) CEClL’S LOVE FOR STUDY.
It is recorded of the late Rev. R.

Cecil, that he never seemed weary of
his studies. They were not only his
business, but his enjoyment and recrea-
tion, and he used to call them his rest
He felt any interruptions of them re-
quired acts of self-denial, and always
returned to his study with pleasure.
Few more carefully aimed to redeem
time, and to spend it only in what was
worthy of a man and a Christian min-
ister; often repeating——
For at back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near ;
And onward, all before Isee
Deserts of vast eternity.
(m) LABORS OF WESLEY.-
Among other features in the charactel
of Mr. Wesley, which manifested
his devotedness to the great work in
which he had engaged, it is said that he
ever retained a cheerful insensibility to
pain, and even to neglect. As he was
traveling with John N elson, one of his
preachers, from common to common, in
Cornwall, and preaching to a people
who heard him willingly, but seldom
or never offered him the slightest hospi-
tality, he one day stopped his horse at
some brambles, to pick the fruit. “Bro-
ther Nelson,” said he, as he did so,
“ we ought to be thankful that there are
plenty of blackberries, for this is the
best countryl ever saw for getting a
stomach, but the worst I ever knew for
getting food. Do the people think we
can live upon preaching?” “ At that
time,” says his companion, “ Mr. Wes-
ley and I slept on the floor; he had a
great coat for his pillow, and I had Bur
kitt’s Notes on the New Testament for
mine. One morning, about three o’clock,
Mr. Wesley turned over, and finding
me awake, clapped me on the side, say-
ing, ‘Brother Nelson, let us be of good
cheer; I have one Whole side yet; for
the skin is off but on one side ’ ”
For more than fifty years, in succes-
sion, this eminent man generally de-
livered two, and frequently three or
four sermons in a day. But calculating
at the lowest estimate, and allowing fifty
annually for extraordinary occasions.
the whole number, during this period,
will be forty thousand five hundred and
sixty. To these may be added innume-
472
INDUSTRY, ENERGY, DEVOTION, ETC.
258
rable exhortations to the societies after
preaching, and in other occasional meet-
ings at which he assisted or presided.
His journeys, II the work of the min-
istry, during so long a period, were ex-
traordinary, and probably, on the whole,
without a precedent. He traveled about
four thousand five hundred miles every
year, on an average; and thus, in his
long course, he passed over two hundred
and twenty-five thousand miles, on his
errand of mercy, after he became an
itinerant preacher. In addition to all
which, the publications which he either
wrote, or otherwise prepared for the
press, were very numerous. It would
have been impossible for him to perform
this‘ almost incredible degree of labor,
without great punctuality and care in the
management of his time. He had stated
hours for every purpose, and his only re-
laxation was a change of employment.
His talents for managing complex affairs,
and governing a numerous body, dissimi-
lar in its parts, and widely diffused
throughout the whole nation, were dis-
played in the order which he introduced
into the societies he had formed, the con-
trol which he exercised over them, and
the plans he devised and executed for
the continuance of that economy which
he had established among them.
(11) NUMBER OF WHITEFIELD’S
SERMONS.——From a memorandum
book, in which Mr. \Vhitefield recorded
the times and places of his ministerial
labors, it appears that from the period of
his ordination to that of his death, which
was thirty-four years, he preached up-
wards of eighteen thousand sermons. It
would be difiicult to tell the many
thousand miles that he traveled. It is said
that this celebrated man, when advanced
in life, finding his physical powers fail-
ing him, undertook to put himself upon
what he called ‘~ short allowance.” He
preached once only on every day in the
week, and three times on the Sabbath I
(0) WHlTEFIELD’S FIRST
VOYAGE TO AMERICA.—-There
is a most interesting position in which
we may look at Whitefield. This was
during his first voyage to America, a
stripling in his twenty-third year. Per-
haps, since Paul’s memorable voyage to
Rome, the ocean has never exhibited a

more surprising spectacle than that fur
nished by this ship. Such a situation
would have paralyzed any ordinary
man. A faint and hesitant homage,
once on the Sabbath day, from a few of
the less obdurate, would be all that such
a man could possibly have expected to
extort from an assemblage of gentlemen,
of soldiers, with their wives and fami-
lies, and the ship’s company. Yet they
became pliant as a willow in the hands
of this remarkable youth. He accord-
ingly converted the chief cabin into a
cloister, the deck into a chapel, and the
steerage into a school-room l He so
bore down all by love, reason, and Scrip-
ture, that we soon behold him, at the
request of the captain and oflicers, with
the hearty concurrence of the gentle-
men, reading “ full public prayers” to
them, twice a day, in the great cabin,
and expounding every night after the
evening prayers, besides daily reading
prayers and preaching twice a day on
deck to the soldiers and sailors, and in-
creasing the services on Sundays. In
addition, he daily catechised a body of
young soldiers, and also catechised the
women apart by themselves. Nor did
all this suffice to expend his zeal, for he
commenced a course of expositions on
the creed and the commandments; and
so convinced was he of the value of cat-
echetical teaching, that on February 3,
he writes, “I began tonight to turn the
observati as made on the lessons in the
morning ..ito catechetical questions, and
was pleased to hear some of the soldiers
make very apt answers.” Nor were
the children forgotten ; a personal friend
who accompanied him, a Mr. H——, as-
sumed that as as his department. On
February 6, Mr. Whitefield writes, that
he was “ pleased to see Mr. H—— so ac-
tive in teaching the children. He has
now many scholars——may God bless
him!”
()7) OUSELEY’S ZEAL.—-The fol-
lowing beautiful and striking miniature
likeness of that great and good man,
Gideon Ouseley, is from the pen of Dr.
Elliott, editor of the \Vestern Christian
Advocate. There was something in Mr.
Ouseley’s refusing the peerage and es-
tates of his ancestors, and “choosing to
suffer afflictions with the people of God,”
473
258
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
so strange, that we question if his par-
allel can be found in all history, except
in the case of Moses. Blessed man, his
reward must be great!
Mr. Ouseley was a marvelous man.
He possessed a strong mind, well culti-
vgted with a good university education.
He was of a noble family; but became
an itinerant Methodist preacher early in
life, and for about fifty years kept the
field, in labors most abundant. He
preached in the Irish and English lan-
guages with equal fluency. The Irish
language (the opinion of others to the
contrary notwithstanding) is the fore-
most language under heaven for the pul-
pit. In this he preached with power to
those who understood it. His pulpit
performances usually amounted to twen-
ty-one each week ; two each day, in the
epen air, and one each evening, in a
church, house, barn, &c., as the case
might be. He preached thousands of
sermons on horseback, in the markets,
at horse-races, cock-fights, &c.; and
when the multitudes were inclined to
leave, which was seldom the case, he
followed them in their movements. He
was often persecuted, waylaid and beat,
so as to be left for dead; but God al-
ways raised him up. The Popish cler-
gy hated him to execration ; and though
many attempts were made on his life,
he always escaped, except with the loss
of one eye. His violent persecutors
mostly came to an 1lI1'tIl’I16l_‘ end. So
manifest was the hand of God in his
preservation, that the Papists concluded
it would not do to kill him, as by this
means he would obtain the reputation of
a martyr. He controverted, most free-
ly, the errors of Popery, and exposed
them unsparingly, always remembering
to point the errorist to the Lord Jesus
Christ for mercy. Many thousands
were converted from Popery through
his instrumentality.
At the death of Sir Gore Ouseley,
his uncle, he became heir to his estate
and his peerage; but he relinquished
both in favor of the next heir, and con-
tinued his preaching til'. death. Few
men of the age equaled him for useful-
Hess and labors.
(q) TOO MUCH MONEY AND
TOO LITTLE LABOR.—Mr. Fletch-

-———__
er accepted the living of Ma lely in
preference to another of more than
double the value, which was offered him
about the same time; his previous in-
tercourse with the people having excited
within him an affection which would not
suffer him to be separated from them,
and which remained unabated till his
death. The circumstances connected
with his appointment were remarkable
and characteristic. One day Mr. Hill
informed him that the living of Dunham,
in Cheshire, then vacant, was at his ser-
vice. “ The parish,” he continued, “ is
small, the duty light, the income good,
(£400 per annum,) and it is situated in
a fine healthy sporting country.” Af-
ter thanking Mr. Hill most cordiall
for his kindness, Mr. F lQtcher addecf:
“ Alas! sir, Dunham will not suit me:
there is too much money and too little
labor.” “ Few clergymen make such
objections,” said Mr. Hill; “it is a pity
to decline such a living, as I do not
know that I can find you another. What
shall we do? ‘Would you like Made-
ly ?” “That, sir, would be the very
place for me.” “ My object, Mr. Fletch-
er,” rejoined Mr. Hill, “ is to make you
comfortable in your own way. If you
prefer Madely, I shall find no difficul-
ty in persuading the present vicar to
exchange it for Dunham, which is worth
more than twice as much.” In this
way he became vicar of Madely, with
which he was so perfectly satisfied, that
he never afterwards sought honor or
preferment.
(7') THE SICK MINlSTER’S
CHOICE.-—An eminent divine was
suffering under chronic disease, and
consulted three physicians, who declar-
ed, on being questioned by the sick
man, that his disease would be followed
by death in a shorter or longer time, ac-
cording to the manner in which he
lived ; but they advised him unani-
mously to give up his office, because,
in his situation, mental agitation would
be fatal to him. “ If,” inquired the di-
vine, “I give myself to repose, how
long, gentlemen, will you guarantee
my life '2” “ Six years,” answered the
doctors. “ And if I continue in office ’!"’
“ Three years, at most.” “Your ser-
vant, gentlemen,” he replied; “I should
474
SIMPLICITY OF LANGUAGE.
259
prefer living two or three years in do-
ing some good, to living six in idleness.”
(s) “LET ME LABOR NOW.”——
I/Vhen that zealous and truly apostolic
laborer, Mr. Grimshawe, who usually
preached from twenty to thirty times a
week, was entreated at any time to
spare himself, his constant reply was,
" Let me labor now, for the hour is at
hand when I shall rest.”
259. Simplicity of Language,
(a) “DEITYI WHO IS I—IE’_l”__
On one occasion, whilst the late Rev.
S. Kilpin was preaching, but not in his
own pulpit, he mentioned the great God
by the name of “the Deity.” A sailor,
who was lisflening, immediately started
from his seat, his elbows fully spread,
and exclaimed aloud, “ Deity ! well,
who is He’? is He our God-a-Mighty 2”
The attendants were about to turn him
out; but the minister stood reproved,
and requested him to resume his seat.
“Yes, my friend, I did mean the al-
mighty God.” The sailor rejoined, “I
thought so, but was not quite sure; I
never heard that name before.” The
humbled Minister replied, " You had a
right to inquire; I was to blame: whilst
delivering God’s message of mercy and
justice to immortal souls, I ought not to
have given my Divine Master a name
which prevented the message from be-
ing understood.” “Thank you, sir,”
was the sailor’s reply; and he looked
as though he would have devoured the
remaining part of the sermon. After
the service, he came and begged pardon
for the interruption; and, with a sailor’s
frankness, requested the kind gentleman
to take some refreshment with him, to
make it up.
(6) LUTI-IER’S PREACHING.—-
On one occasion, during the sixteenth
century, the principal reformers having
been called together, several of them
preached. Luther, though unwell,
preached with much energy from the
words, “ Go ye into all the world, and
preach the gospel to every creature.”
Myconius wrote to a friend that he had
often heard Luther preach, but on this
occasion he seemed not so much to
speak as to thunder forth the name of

Christ from heaven itself. After Bucer’s
sermon, he supped with Luther, who, in
the course of conversation, commended
the discourse of his guest; but added
that he himself was a better preacher.
Bucer received this apparently rude re-
mark with his accustomed mildness, and
readily declared his assent. Luther
then spoke seriously, and said, “Do not
think that I mean to boast foolishly ; I
well know my own deficiencies, and
that I am unable to deliver such an in-
genious and learned discourse as we
have this day heard from you; but,
when I am in the pulpit, I consider who
my hearers are: and because the great
er part are an unlearned and simple
people, I preach what I think they can
understand. But you take a higher
flight, so that your discourses suit learn-
ed people, but are not understood b y our
poor people. In this I act like a kind
mother, who gives her craving infant the
breast, thus feeding it with her own
milk as well as she is able, and thinks
this better for its nourishment than if
mixed with the sweetest and choicest
syrups and preparations of art.”
(0) SIMPLICITY OF WESLEY.
—-—In June, 1790, the Rev. J. IVesley
preached at Lincoln: his text was, Luke
x. 42 : “One thing is needful.” I/V hen
the congregation were retiring from the
chapel, a lady exclaimed, in a tone of
great surprise, “Is this the great Mr.
VVes1ey, of whom we hear so mucl1 in
the present day‘? VVhy, the poorest
might have understood him.” The gen-
tleman to whom this remark was made
replied, “ In this, madam, he displays
his greatness; that, while the poorest
can understand him, the most learned
are edified, and cannot be offended.”
(at) LEARNING MAKES PLAIN.
——The late Rev. Dr. C. Evans, of Bris-
tol, having once to travel from home,
wrote to a poor congregation to say that
he should have occasion to stay a night
in their village, and that if it were
agreeable to them, he would give them
a sermon. The poor people hesitated
for some time, but at length permitted
him to preach. After sermon, he found
them in a far happier mood than when
he first came among them, and could
not forbear inquiring into the reason of
475
259, 260
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
all this. “ Why, sir, to tell you the
truth,” said one of them, “ knowing
that you were a very learned man, and
that you were a teacher of young min-
isters, we were much afraid we should
not understand you; but you have been
quite as plain as any minister we ever
hear.” “Ay, ay,” the doctor replied,
“you entirely misunderstood the nature
of learning, my friend: its design is to
make things so plain that they cannot
be misunderstood.” Similar was the
view of Archbishop Leighton, who says,
in one of his charges to his clergy,
“ How 1nuch learning, my brethren, is
required to make these things plain!”
(e) FEW PLEASED, BUT ONE
CON VERTED.——The Rev. John Cot-
ton was an eminent minister of the sev-
enteenth century, who labored for many
years at Boston, in Lincolnshire. When
at the university of Cambridge, he was
remarkable fbr learning and eloquence;
and being called upon to preach at St.
Mary’s church in that town, high ex-
pectations were raised as to the charac-
ter of the sermon. After many strug-
gles in his own mind, arising from the
temptation to displayhis talent and learn-
ing, and from a powerful impression
of the importance of preaching the gos-
pel with all simplicity, he at length
wisely determined on the latter course.
The vice-chancellor and students were
not pleased, though a few of the pro-
fessors commended his style; but his
sermon was blessed to the conversion of
Dr. Preston, who became one of the
most eminent ministers of his day.
(f) ROMAINE’S PLAIN PREACH-
IN G.——Some persons in the Rev. Mr.
Romaine’s congregation, thinking his
style of preaching too plain and com-
mon, had requested him to exhibit a lit-
tle more learning in the pulpit; accord-
ingly, on a certain occasion, he read
his text in Hebrew. “Now,” said he,
“I suppose scarcely one in the congre-
gation understands that.” He then read
it in Greek, and added, “Perhaps there
may be one or two that understand me
now; I will next read it in Latin.” He
did so and said, “Possibly a few more
may comprehend me, but the number is
still very limited.” He last of all re-
peated the text in English: “There,”

he continued, “ now you all understand
it; which do you think is best’! I
hope always so to preach, as that the
meanest person in the congregation may
comprehend me.”
260. Fidelity and Boldness.
(a) MILLARD AND LOUIS XI.—-
Oliver Millard, a popular and energetic
preacher of the reign of Louis XI, at-
tacked the vices of the court in his ser-
mons, and did not spare even the king
himself, who, taking offence at it, sent
the priest word, that if he did not change
his tone, he would have him thrown in-
to the Seine. “ The king,” replied Ol-
iver, “is the master to do what he pleas-
es; but tell him that I shall reach Par-
adise by water sooner than he will with
his post-horses.” (The establishment
of traveling post was instituted by Louis
XI.) This bold answer at once amused
and intimidated the king, for he let the
priest continue to preach as he pleased,
and what be leased.
(6) MASSILLON PREACHING.
-—The eloquence of the celebrated Mas-
sillon shone conspicuously in the intro-
duction of a sermon before Louis XIV,
king of France, from the words of the
Redeemer, Matt. v. 4: “Blessed are
they that mourn.” The preacher be-
gan : “If the world addressed your ma-
jesty from this place, the world would
not say, ‘ Blessed are they that mourn.’
The world would say ‘ Blessed is the
prince who has never fought, but to
conquer; who has filled the universe
with his name; who through the whole
course of a long and flourishing reign,
enjoys in splendor all that men admire
—-extent of conquest, the esteem of his
enemies, the love of his people, the wis-
dom of his laws.’ But, sire, the lan-
guage of the gospel is not the language
of the world.”
(0) WHITEFIELD AND GRIM-
SHAVVE.—Mr. Whitefield,in a sermon
he preached at I-Iaworth, having spoken
severely of those professors of the gos-
pel who, by their loose and evil con-
duct, caused the ways of truth to be evil
spoken of, intimated his hope, that it
was not necessary to enlarge much up-
on that topic to the congregation before
4:76
FIDELITY AND BOLDNESS.
260
tum, who had so long enjoyed the bene-
fit of an able and faithful preacher; and
he was willing to believe that their profit-
ing appeared to all men. This roused
Mr. Grimshawe’s spirit, and, notwith-
standing his great regard for the preach-
er, he stood up and interrupted him, say-
ing,with a loud voice, “ Oh! sir, for God’s
sake, do not speak so; I pray you, do not
flatter. I fear the greater part of them
are oin to hell with their eyes open.”
(d) IN DIVIDUALITY IN PREACH-
IN G.——It is a charge often brought
against some faithful ministers, that
they direct many of their remarks to
certain particular persons. It is cer-
tain that this was often done by Mr.
Whitefield, and sometimes with very
happy effect. He once drew from
the conduct of his female servant the
picture of a Christian remiss in duty,
which painfully distressed her, till he
gave her an assurance of his entire for-
givcness.
(e) RITCHIE AND THE PRO-
FANE SVVEARER.——-Thelate Doctor
Ritchie, professor of Divinity in the
University of Edinburgh, was one day
preaching in Tarbolton church, where
he was at that time minister, against
profane swearing in common conversa-
tion, while one of his principal heritors,
who was addicted to that sin, was pre-
sent. This gentleman thought the ser-
mon was designedly addressed to him,
and that the eyes of the whole congre-
gation were fixed upon him. Though
he felt indignant, he kept his place till
the service was concluded, and then
waited on the preacher, and asked him
to dine with him, as he was quite alone.
The invitation being accepted, the gen-
tleman immediately after dinner thus
addressed the minister: “Sir, you have
insulted me to-day in the church. I
have been three times in church lately,
and on every one of them you have been
holding me up to the derision of the
audience; so I tell you, sir, I shall ne-
ver more enter the church of Tarbolton
again, unless you give me your solemn
promse, that you will abstain from such
topics in future, as I am resolved I shall
no more furnish you with the theme of
your discourse.” Mr. Ritchie heard
this speech to a conclusion with calm-

ness, and then looking him steadfastly in
the face, thus replied: “Very well, sir,
if you took to yourself what I said to-
day against swearing, does not your
conscience bear witness to its truth?
You say you will not enter the church,
till I cease to reprove your sins; if such
is your determination, it is impossible
you can enter it again, for which of
the commandments have you not bro-
ken ?” On observing his firmness, and
feeling that he was wrong in attempting
to make the minister of the parish com-
promise his duty, the gentleman held
out his hand to Mr. Ritchie; a mutual
explanation took place; and while the
minister would abate none of his faith-
fulness, the heritor endeavored to over-
come his evil habits.
(f) THE PREACHER AND THE
CONSTABLE.—Mr. Maurice, one of
the con-conformist ministers in Shrop-
shire, experienced many remarkable de-
liverances in the providence of God,
when in danger of being apprehended
by his enemies after his ejection. At
one time a constable found him preach-
ing, and commanded him to desist; but
Mr. Maurice, with great courage,
charged him in the name of the Great
God, whose message he was then de-
livering, to forbear molesting him, as he
would answer it at the great day. The
constable, awed by his solemn manner,
sat down trembling, heard him patient-
ly to the end of his discourse, and then
quietly left him.
(g) OF F EN DIN G A NOBLEMAN.
——Mr. Dod having preached against the
profanation of the Sabbath, which much
prevailed in his parish, and especially
among the more wealthy inhabitants,
the servant of a nobleman, who was one
of them, came to him and said, “Sir,
you have offended my lord to-day.”
Mr. Dod replied, “I should not have of
fended your lord, except he had been
conscious to himself that he had first
offended my Lord; and if your lord will
oifend my Lord, let him be ofi"ended.”
(lb) FAITHFULNESS TO GOD
AND THE KIN G.——Bishop Latimer
having one day preached before King
Hery VIII a sermon which displeased
his majesty, he was ordered to preach
again on the next Sabbath, and to make
477
260
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS ,
an apology for the offence he had given.
After reading his text, the bishop thus
began his sermon :——“ I-Iugh Latimer,
dost thou know before whom thou art
this day to speak’? To the high and
mighty monarch, the king’s most excel-
lent majesty, who can take away thy
life if thou offendest; therefore, take
heed that thou speakest not a word that
may displease; but then consider well,
Hugh, dost thou not know from whence
thou comest; upon whose message thou
art sent’? Even by the great and migh-
ty God! who is all-present! and who
beholdeth all thy ways! and who is able
to cast thy soul into hell! Therefore,
take care that thou deliverest thy mes-
sage faithfully.” H e then proceeded
with the same sermon he had preached
the preceding Sabbath, but with consi-
derably more energy. The sermon
ended, the court were full of expecta-
tion to know what would be the fate of
this honest and plain-dealing bishop.
After dinner, the king called for Lati-
mer, and, with a stern countenance,
asked him how he dared to be so bold
as to preach in such a manner. He,
falling on his knees, replied, his duty to
his God and his prince had enforced
him thereto, and that he had merely
discharged his duty and his conscience
in what he had spoken. Upon which
the king, rising from his seat, and tak-
idg the good man by the hand, embraced
him, saying, “Blessed be God, I have
so honest a servant.”
“SHORT MEASURE.”-—-The
following incident in the life of Williani
Dawson, a very humble, but a very ex-
cellent preacher, late of Barnbow, near
Leeds, beautifully illustrates the power
of the plainly preached word.
“ He was preaching in the neighbor-
hood of Leeds, on Dan. v. 27 : “Thou
art weighed in the balances, and art
found wanting.” A person who travel-
ed the country in the character of a
pedler, and who was exceedingly par-
tial to him as a preacher, was one of
Mr. Dawson’s auditors. The person
referred to, generally carried a stick
with him, which answered the double
purpose of a walking-stick and a ‘ yard-
wand ;’ and having been employed pret-
ty freely in the7 former capacity, it was
4: 8

worn down beyond the point of justice,
and procured for him an appellation of
‘Short Measure.’ He stood before Mr.
Dawson, and being rather noisy in his
religious professions, as well as ready
with his responses, he manifested signs
of approbation while the scales were be-
ing described and adjusted, and different
classes of sinners were placed in them,
and disposed of agreeably to the test of
justice, truth and mercy,—-uttering in a
somewhat subdued tone, yet loud enough
for those around to hear, at the close of
each particular——‘Light weight’--‘short
again,’ etc. After taking up the sepa-
rate characters of the flagrant transgres-
sor of the law of God, the hypocrite, the
formalist, etc., Mr. Dawson at length
came to such persons as possessed reli-
gious light, but little hallowed feeling,
and the semblance of much zeal, but
who employed false weights and mea-
sures. I-Icre, without adverting in his
mind to the case of the noisy auditor, he
perceived the muscles of his face work-
ing, when the report of ‘short measure’
occurred to him. Resolved, however,
to soften no previous expression, and to
proceed with an analysis and descrip-
tion of the question, he placed the de-
linquent, in his singularly striking way,
in the scale, when, instead of the usual
response, the man, stricken before him,
took his stick--the favorite measure,
from under his arm—raised one foot
from the floor, doubled his knee, and,
taking hold of the offending instrument
by both ends, snapped it into two halves,
exelaiming, while dashing it to the
ground, ‘Thou shalt do it no more!’
So true is it, to employ the language of
an eminent minister, ‘ that no man ever
offended his own conscience, but first or
last it was revenged upon him for it.’ ”
(j) HACKET AND THE SOL-
DIER.-—Dr. John Hacket was, at the
beginning of the civil war, rector of St.
Andrew’s, Holborn; and when the par-
liament had forbidden the use of the
liturgy, under the severest penalties,
Dr. Hacket continued to read, as before,
the daily service, and when a sergeant
with a trooper rushed into the church,
commanding him with threats to desist,
he with a steady voice and intrepid
countenance continued; on which the
FIDELITY AND BOLDNESS
260
soldier, raising a pistol to his head,
threatened him with instant death. The
undaunted minister calmly replied,-
“Soldier, I am doing my duty, do you
do yours !” and with a still more exalt-
ed voice read on. The soldier, abashed,
left the church.
(ls) BOURDALOUE’S FAITHFUL-
NESS.-—The reputati \11 for eloquence
which this celebrated preacher very
early acquired, reached the ears of
Louis the Fourteenth, who sent for him
to preach the advent sermon, in 1670,
which he did with such success that he
was many years retained at court. He
was called the king of preachers, and
the preacher to kings; and Louis him-
self said, that he would rather hear the
repetitions of Bourdaloue, than the no-
velties of another. VVith a collected
air, Bourdaloue had little action; he
generally kept his eyes half closed, and
penetrated the hearts of the people by
the sound of a voice uniform and solemn.
On one occasion, he turned the peculiari-
ty of his external aspect to a very me-
morable advantage. After depicting, in
soul-awakening terms, a sinner of the
first magnitude, he suddenly opened his
eyes, and casting them full on the king,
who sat opposite to him, he added, in a
voice of thunder, "Thou art the man.’7
The effect was confounding. When he
had finished his discourse, he went and
threw himself at the feet of his sovereign,
and said, “Sire, behold at your feet,
one who is the most devoted of your
servants; but punish him not, that in
the pulpit he can own no other master
than the King of kings.”
(Z) THE KN lGHT’S COMPLAINT.
——During the protectorate, a certain
knight, in Surrey, had a lawsuit with
the minister of his parish; and whilst
the dispute was pending, Sir John ima-
gined that the sermons delivered at
church were preached at him. He
therefore complained against the minis-
ter to Cromwell, who inquired of the
preacher concerning the fact; and hav-
ing found that his sermons were aimed
at the common good, he dismissed the
complaining knight, saying, “ Go home,
Sir John, and hereafter live in good
friendship with your minister; the word
of the Lord is a searching word, and I

am afraid it has found you out.” It
were well, when we feel uncomfortable
with the sermons of our ministers, if,
instead of complaining of them, we
seriously examined our own character,
and applied whatever might be suitable
to our own case.
(m) VVALKER AND THE REC-
TOR.-—After the late Rev. Samuel
“Talker, of Truro, had begun to feel
the unspeakable importance of the truth
as it is in Jesus, his preaching became
of a different character to what it had
previously been. When he urged the
importance of regeneration, and devot-
edness to God, those who were living
in a sensual and dissipated\manner, or
who were building their hopes of heaven
on the morality of their lives, were of-
fended. Accordingly, some of the most
wealthy inhabitants of the town com-
plained of him to the rector, and re-
quested his dismission. The rector
promised compliance with their wishes,
and waited on Mr. ‘Walker to give him
notice to quit his curacy. He was re-
ceived with much politeness and res-
pect, and Mr. Walker soon took an op-
portunity, from some passing remark,
to explain his views of the importance
of the ministerial office, a11d the man-
ner in which its duties ought to be per-
formed. His sentiments and manner
were such, that the rector went away
without having accomplished his pur-
pose. He endeavored a second time to
effect the wishes of the people, but was
again so awed by Mr. VV.’s superiority,
that he could not speak to him on the
subject. Being afterwards pressed by
one of the principal persons on the topic,
he replied, “ Do you go and dismiss him,
if you can; I cannot. I feel, in his
presence, as if he were a being of su-
perior order, and am so abashed, that I
am uneasy till I can retire from it.”
(it) LATIMER ACCUSED BE-
FORE HENRY VIII.——Bishop Lati-
mer, in preaching before King Henry
the Eighth, spoke his mind very plain-
ly, which some of his enemies thought
to make their advantage of, by com-
plaining of him to the king, that they
might thus get him out of the way.
Soon after his sermon, he and several
others being called before the king tc
479
260,261
CHRISTI AN.
MINISTERS,



speak their minds on certain matters,
one of them kneeled before his majesty,
and accused Latimer of having preach-
ed seditious doctrines. The king turned
to Latimer, and said, “What say you
to that, sir ?” Latimer kneeled down,
and turning first to his accuser, said,
“ What form of preaching would you
appoint me to preach before a king’?
'Would you have me to preach nothing
concerning a king in a king’s sermon’?
Have you any commission to appoint
me what I shall preach '4” He asked
him several other questions, but he
would answer none at all; nor had he
any thing to say. Then he turned to
the king, and said, “I never thought
myself worthy, nor ever sued, to be a
preacher before your Grace. But I
was called to it, and would be willing,
if you mislike me, to give place to my
betters. But if your Grace allow me
for a preacher, I would desire your
Grace to discharge my conscience, give
me leave to frame my discourse accord-
ing to mine audience. I had been a
very dolt to have preached so at the
borders of your realm as I preach be-
fore your Grace.” These words were
well recieved by the king, as Latimer
concluded, because the king presently
turned to another subject. Some of his
friends came to him with tears in their
eyes, and told him, they looked for
nothing but that he should have been
sent to the tower the same night.
(0) USHER AND THE KING.—
Dr. Parr, in his Life of Archbishop
Usher, relates, that while that prelate
was once preaching in the church at
Covent Garden, a message arrived from
the court, that the king wished imme-
diately to see him. He descended from
the pulpit, listened to the command, and
told the messenger that he was then, as
he saw, employed in God’s business,
but, as,soon as he had done, he would
attend upon the king to understand his
pleasure, and then continued his ser-
mon.
260. Ingenuity and Wit.
(a) KIND OF MINISTER
WANTED.—The people of one of the
out parishes in Virginia, wrote to Dr.
Rice, who was then at the head of the
Theological Seminary in Prince Ed-
ward, for a minister. They said they
wanted a man of first rate talents, for
they had run down considerably, and
needed building up. They wanted one
who could write well, for some of the
young people were very nice about that
matter. They wanted one who could
visvll a good deal, for their former minis-
ter had neglected that, and they wanted
to bring it up. They wanted a man of
very genllemanly cleporlment, for some
thought a great deal of that. And so
they went on, describing a perfect minis-
ter. The last thing they mentioned was,
—-—they gave their last minister $350;
but if the Doctor would send them such
a man as they had described, they would
raise another $50, making it $400.
The Doctor sat right down and wrote a
reply, telling them they had better forth-
with make out a call for old Dr. Dwight,
in heaven; for he did not know of any
one in this world who answered this
description. And as Dr. D. had been
living so long on spiritual food, he might
not need so much for the body, and pos-
sibly he might live on $400.
(Z2) PREACI-IING ON THE TIMES.
——In l648, it was a question asked of
the brethren, at the meetings of minis-
ters, twice in the year, “If they preach-
ed the duties of the times '2” And when
it was found that Leighton did not, he
was reproved for his omission; but he
replied, “ If all the brethren have
preached on the times, may not one poor
brother he suffered to preach on eter-
nity? ”
(0) THE ELEVENTH COM-
MAN DMENT.——At one time Arch-
bishop Usher visited Scotland, and hear-
ing much of the piety of the Rev. Sa-
muel Rutherford,resolved on being a wit-
ness of it. Disguised as a pauper, on a
Saturday evening, he solicited lodging
for the night. Mr. Rutherford took
him in, and directed him to be seated in
the kitchen. Mrs. Rutherford cate-
chised the servants, as a preparation
for the Sabbath; and having asked the
stranger the number of the Divine com-
mandments, he answered, eleven. The
good woman hastily concluded him ig-
norant, and said, “ What a shame it is
480
INGENUITY AND WIT.
261
for you, a man with gray hairs, in a
Christian country, not to know how
many commandments there are! There
is not a child six years old, in this pa-
rish, but could answer the question pro-
perly.” Lamenting his condition, she
ordered his supper, and directed a ser-
vant to show him a bed in a garret.
Mr. Rutherford having heard him at
prayer, and finding out who he was,
prevailed on the archbishop to preach
for him, which he agreed to do, on con-
dition that he should not be made known.
Early in the morning Mr. Rutherford
changed his clothes, suffered him to de-
part, and afterwards introduced him to
breakfast as a minister on a journey.
When in the pulpit, he announced his
text--“A new commandment I give
unto you, that ye love one another ;”
and remarked that this might be reck-
oned the eleventh commandment. Mrs.
Rutherford, remembering the answer
she had received the night before from
the stranger, was surprised, and looking
at the preacher, almost imagined he
might be the pitied traveler. The
two holy men spent the evening in de-
lightful conversation, and the archbishop
departed, undiscovered, early on the
following day.
(d) VVHITEFIELD AND THE
EXECUTION.--During one of the
visits which the Rev. George Whitefield
paid to Edinburgh, an unhappy man,
who had forfeited his life to the offended
laws of his country, was executed in
that neighborhood. Mr. W. mingled
with the crowd that was collected on
the occasion, and was struck with the
solemnity and decorum which were ob-
servable in so awful a scene. His ap-
pearance, however, drew the eyes of all
upon him, and raised a variety of opi-
nions as to the motives which induced
him to join the multitude. The next
day being Sunday, he preached to a
very large congregation in a field near
the city; and, in the course of his ser-
mon, he adverted to the scenes of the
preceding day. “I know,” said he,
“that many of you will find it diflicult
to reconcile my appearance yesterday
with my character. Many of you, I
know, will say, that my moments would
have been better employed in praying

_-_-_ _--_
for the unhappy man, than in attending
him to the fatal tree; and that, perhaps,
curiosity was the only cause that con-
verted me into a spectator on that occa-
sion ; but those who ascribe that uncha
ritable motive to me, are under a H11?-
take. I went as an observer of human
nature, and to see the effect that such
an example would have on those whc
witnessed it. I watched the conduct of
those who were present on that awful
occasion, and I was highly pleased with
their demeanor, which has given me a
very favorable opinion of the Scottish
nation. Your sympathy was visible on
your countenances, particularly when
the moment arrived that your unhappy
fellow-creature was to close his eyes on
this world for ever; and then you all,
as if moved by one impulse, turned your
heads aside, and wept. Those tears were
precious, and will be held in remem-
brance. How different it was when the
Savior of mankind was extended on
the cross I The Jews, instead of sym-
pathizing in his sorrows, triumphed in
them. They reviled him with bitter
expressions, with words even more bit-
ter than the gall and vinegar which they
handed him to drink. Not one, of all
that witnessed his pains, turned his head
aside, even in the last pang. Yes, my
friends, there was one; that glorious
luminary,” pointing to the sun, “ veiled
his brightness, and traveled on his
course in tenfold night.”
(6) HALL’S OPINION OF A
SERMON .——A conceited minister hav-
ing once delivered a sermon in the hear-
ing of Mr. Hall, pressed him, with a
disgusting union of self-complacency
and indelicacy, to state what he thought
of the sermon. Mr. Hall remained si-
lent for some time, hoping that his si-
lence would be rightly interpreted ; but
this only caused the question to be
pressed with greater earnestness. Mr.
Hall at length said, “There was one
very fine passage, sir.” “I am re-
joiced to hear you say so. Pray, sir,
which was it ?” “VVhy, sir, it was
the passage from the pulpit into the ves-
tr .”
y(f) NEWTON’S REPROOF.-
The excellent John Newton was taith-
ful and ingenious in administering re-
31
491
26l
MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN.
proof. IIe one day heard a minister
preach, who affected great accuracy in
his discourses, and who occupied nearly
an hour on several labored and nice dis-
tinctions. Having a high esteem for
Mr. N ewton’s judgment, he inquired of
him whether he thought these distinc-
tions were full and judicious. Mr.
Newton said, he thought them not full,
as a very important one had been omit-
ted. “I/Vhat can that be '2” said the
minister ; “ for I have taken more than
ordinary care to enumerate them fully.”
“I think not,” replied Mr. N., “for
when many of your congregation had
traveled several miles for a meal, I
think you should not have forgotten the
important distinction which must ever
exist between meat and bones.”
(g) VVHITEFIELD AND ELEC-
TIONS.-—When Mr. Whitefield was
in the zenith of his popularity, lord
Clare, who knew that his influence was
considerable, applied to him, by letter,
requesting his assistance at Bristol, at
the ensuing general election. To this
request Mr. Whitefield replied, that in
general elections he never interfered;
but he would earnestly exhort his lord-
ship to use great diligence to make his
own particular calling and election
sure!
(h) THE MINISTER AND THE
MUSICIAN.-A musical amateur of
eminence, who had often observed the
Hon. and Rev. Mr. Cadogan’s inatten-
tion to his performances, said to him one
day, “ Come, I am determined to make
you feel the force of music,-—-pay par-
ticular attention to this piece.” It ac-
cordingly was played. “Well, what
do you say now ?” “ Why, just what
I said before.” “ What I can you hear
this and not be charmed’.Z Well, I am
quite surprised at your insensibility.
Where are your ears ?” “ Bear with
me, my lord,” replied Mr. Cadogan,
“since I too have had my surprise; I
have often from the pulpit set before
you the most striking and affecting
truths ; I have sounded notes that might
have raised the dead ; I have said,
Surely he will feel now ; but you never
seemed to be charmed with my music,
though infinitely more interesting than
yours. Itoo have been ready to say


~04
with Where are his
ears '2”
(2') MR. BROWN AND THE
OPPOSER.—-Rev. John Brown, of
Haddington, was invited to become pas
tor there, soon after he was licensed to
preach. Only one man prevented the call
from being unanimous. Beinga person
possessed of considerable influence, it
was greatly feared that he would exert
that influence to the injury of the min-
ister and the church. Mr. Brown meet-
ing with this gentleman one day, took
him by the hand, and begged him
frankly to state his reasons for voting
against him. “I am as frank as you
are, Mr. Brown,” replied he, “and I
beg leave to say that my ‘eason for
voting against you is a strong one ; and
it can be told in a word, I don’t think
you are a good preacher.” “ There we
are perfectly agreed,” replied Mr.
Brown ; “I know it as well as you do,
my friend, and I say it as frankly as
you do, that I am not a good preacher.
But then,” continued Mr. Brown, as he
shook his neighbor heartily by the
hand, “ while you and I are perfectly
agreed in this particular, where is the
use of you and me setting up our opin-
ions against the whole parish .2” The
man laughed heartily, told Mr. Brown
that he had completely disarmed him,
that he began to be of his opinion, and
that he would not be found opposing the
views of the whole parish any longer.
He became afterwards Mr. Brown’s
best friend.
astonishment,
MASSILLON AND THE
THOUGHTLESS ASSEMBLY.——
Massillon, an eminent French preacher,
in the first sermon he ever delivered,
found, upon his getting into the pulpit,
the whole audience in a disposition no
way favorable to his intentions; their
nods, whispers, or drowsy behavior,
showed him that there was no great
profit to be expected from his sowing in
a soil so barren ; however, he soon
changed the disposition of the audience
by his manner of beginning: “If,”
said he, “ a cause, the most important
that could be conceived, were to be tried
at the bar before qualified judges; if
this cause interested ourselves in partic-
ular 5 if the eyes of the whole kingdom
482
IN GEN UITY AND WIT.
261
were fixed upon the event ; if the most
eminent counsel were employed on both
sides; and if we had heard from our
infancy of this undetermined trial ;
would you not all sit with due attention
and warm expectation to the pleadings on
both sides? would not all your hopes
and fears be suspended upon the final
decision’.Z And yet, let me tell you,
you have this moment a cause of much
greater importance before you : a cause
where not one nation, but all the world
are spectators ; tried not before a falli-
ble tribunal, but the awful throne of
heaven; where not your temporal and
transitory interests are the subjects of
debate ; but your eternal happiness or
misery ; where the cause is still unde-
termined; but, perhaps, the very mo-
ment I am speaking may fix the irrevo-
cable decree that shall last for ever;
and yet, notwithstanding all this, you
can hardly sit with patience to hear the
tidings of salvation. I plead the cause
of Heaven, and yet Iam scarcely at-
tended to.”
(It) PREACHING TO A FARM-
ER.-—The Rev. John Cooke, of Mai-
denhead, once, when traveling, fell in
with a rich farmer, who was very un-
willing to'listen to any serious remarks
which he was disposed to make, and at
length said, with a sneer, “I don’t like
religion ; and I told you so.” “You
are not a singular farmer, sir,” replied
Mr. Cooke. “ I have read of one whom
you greatly resemble. The farmer to
whom I allude, finding his ground very
productive, and his barns too small, re-
solved on building larger barns and fill-
ing them ; and said to his soul, ‘ Soul,
thou hast much goods laid up for many
years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and
be merry. But God said unto him,
Thou fool I this night thy soul shall be
required of thee: then whose shall those
things be which thou hast provided?’
Luke xii. 19, 20. Now, sir, I think
vou must see yourself in this picture.
Here is a farmer, very rich, living to
himself in health, ease, and pleasure,
‘ without God in the world.’ No doubt
his neighbors envied and flattered him ;
but no one dared to reprove so rich a
man. And if no one reproved his sins,
and many flattered them as virtues, he

never heard the truth. This accounts
for our Lord’s words, ‘ How hardly
shall they that have riches enter into
the kingdom of God I But although he
thought himself wise, and others wish-
ed to be like him, God addresses him
differently,--‘ Thou fool I’
“ I/Vhy, sir, do you suppose the only
wise God called him a fool ?” He was
silent.
“ But, candidly, do not you think he
was a fool I”
“ I shall not say, sir.”
“ Well, sir, if you will allcw me to
hazard an opinion, he appears a fool,-=-
“ 1. Because he preferred his body to
his soul.
“ 2. Because he preferred the world to
God: ‘ Eat, drink, and be merry,’ was
the extent of his aim.
“ 3. Because he preferred time to eter-
nity : ‘ Thou hast goods laid up for
many years.’
4. “ Because he lived as if he should
never die ; and, whilst presuming on
many years, exposed his soul to all the
horrors of sudden death, without repent-
ance, without forgiveness, without holi-
ness, and without hope.”
(Z) HAYNES’ REPLY TO THE
SCOF F ERS.—-Of Mr. Haynes, the col-
ored preacher, it is said, that some time
after the publication of his sermon on
the text, “Ye shall not surely die,”
two reckless young men having agreed
together to try his wit, one of them said,
“ Father Haynes, have you heard the
good news '5” “ N o,’ ’ said Mr. Haynes,
“ what is it ’I” “It is great news in-
deed,” said the other, “ and, if true,
your business is done.” “ I/Vhat is it ?”
again inquired Mr. Haynes. “ VVhy,”
said the first, “the devil is dead.” In
a moment the old gentleman replied,
lifting up both hands, and placing them
on the heads of the young men, and in
a tone of solemn concern, “ Oh, poor
fatherless children! what will become
of you '2”
(122) THE PULPIT VVINDOVV
AND CUSHION REPAIRED.——Rev.
Zabeliel Adams at one time exchanged
with a neighboring minister—a mild,
inoffensive man-—who, knowing the pe-
culiar bluntness of his character, said to
him, “ You will find some panes of
' Q3
Q61 MINISTERS
CHRISTIAN.
glass broken in the pulpit window, and
possibly you may suffer from the cold.
The cushion, tao, is in a bad condition;
but I beg of ye" not to say any thing to
my people on the subject; they are
poor, dzc.” “ O no! O no!” says Mr.
Adams. But ere he left home, he fill-
ed a bag with rags and took it with him.
When he had been in the pulpit a short
time, feeling somewhat incommoded by
the too free circulation of the air, he de-
liberately took from the bag, a handful
of the rags, and stuffed them into the
windows. Toward the close of his dis-
course, Which was more or less upon
the duties of a people toward their
clergyman, he became very animated,
and purposely brought down both fists
upon the pulpit cushions, with a tre-
mendous force. The feathers flew in
all directions, and the cushion was pret-
ty much used up. He instantly check-
ed the current of his thought, and sim-
ply exclaiming,-—-“ Why, how these
feathers fly !”--proceeded. He had
fulfilled his promise of not addressing
the society on the subject, but had
taught them a lesson not to be misun-
derstood. On the next Sabbath, the
window and cushion were found in ex-
cellent repair.
(vz) NEI/V USE FOR JACOB’S
LADDER.—A I/Velsh clergyman, in-
vited to assist in the ordination of a min-
ister in some part of England, was ap-
pointed to deliver the address to the
church and congregation; and having
been informed that their previous minis-
ter had suffered much from pecuniary
embarrassment, although the church
was fully able to support him comforta-
bly, he took the following singular meth-
od of administering reproof.
In his address to the church, he re-
marked, “You have been praying, no
doubt, that God would send you a man
after his own heart to be your pastor.
You have done well. God, we hope,
has heard your prayer, and given you
such a minister as he approves, who
will go in and out before you, and feed
your souls with the bread of life. But
now you have prayed for a minister, and
God has given you one to your mind,
you have something more to do; you
must take care of him ; and in order to
, the man.

1
his being happy among you, I have been
thinking you have need to pray again.
‘Pray again ‘.2 Pray again ? What
should we pray again for?’ Well,l
think you have need to pray again.
‘But for what '2’ VVhy, I’ll tell you.
Pray that God would put J acob’s ladder
down to the earth again. ‘J acob’s lad-
der! Jacob’s ladder! What has Jacob’s
ladder to do with our minister '2’ Why,
I think, if God would put J acob’s lad-
der down, that your minister could go
up into heaven on the Sabbath evening
after preaching, and remain there all
the week; then he could come down
every Sabbath morning so spiritually
minded and so full of heaven, that he
would preach to you almost like an an-
gel. ‘Oh, yes, that may be all very
well ; and, if it were possible, we should
like it ; but, then, we need our minister
with us during the week, to attend
prayer-meetings, visit the sick, hear ex-
perience, give advice, &c., &c., and,
therefore, must have him always with
us; we want the whole of his time and
attention.’ That may be, and I will
admit the necessity of his daily atten-
tion to your concerns; but, then, you
will remember, that if he remains here
he must have bread and cheese; and I
have been told that your former minis-
ter was often wanting the common ne-
cessaries of life, while many of you
can enjoy its luxuries; and, therefore,
I thought, if God would put J acob’s lad-
der down, your present minister might
preach to you on the Sabbath, and, by
going up into heaven after the services
of the day, save you the painful neces-
sity of supporting him.”
(0) JAY AND THE ANGEL.-—
)/Vhen the Edward Irving mania raged,
a man calling himself an “Angel of
the Church,” proceeded from Bristol to
Bath, on a special mission to William
Jay. The grave, thinking old man, was
in his study, and when the “ Angel,” a
man with a dismal countenance, a white
cravat, and rusty black trousers, ap-
peared, Mr. Jay asked him his business.
“I am the Angel of the Church,” said
“ What church '2” asked Mr.
Jay. “The Irvingite church at Bris-
tol,” replied the angel. “Take off
your coat,” said Mr. Jay. The angel
484
PERS ON AL IN TERCOURSE
AND PASTORAL LABOR. 261, 262

took off his coat, and Mr. Jay quietly
rubbed his shoulder blades. “What
are you doing ?” asked the angel.
“Looking for your wings,” was the
cool answer of William Jay.
(p) VVHITEFIELD AND THE
SCOFFER.—VVhen the celebrated
Whitefield was addressing an immense
crowd with his accustomed fervor and
eloquence, under the shade of a vener-
able tree in the meadows at Edinburgh,
a poor creature, thinking to turn him
mto ridicule, had perched himself on
one of the overhanging boughs right
above the preacher’s head, and, with
monkey-like dexterity, mimicking his
gesticulations, endeavored to raise a
laugh among the audience. Guided by
the looks of some of his hearers, White-
field caught a glance of him, but with-
out seeming to have noticed him, con-
tinued his discourse. With the skill of
a practised orator, he reserved the inci-
dent for the proper place and time. He
was expatiating at the moment on the
power and sovereignty of Divine grace.
IIVith gathering force and earnestness
he told of the unlikely objects it had
often chosen, and the unlocked for tri-
umphs it had achieved. As he rose to
the climax of his inspiring theme, and
when in the full sweep of his eloquence,
he suddenly paused, and turning round
and pointing slowly to the wretch above
him, exclaimed, in a tone of deep and
thrilling pathos, “ Even he may yet be
the subject of that free and resistless
grace.” It was a shaft from the Al-
mighty. Winged by the divine Spirit,
it struck the scoffer to the heart, and
realized, in his conversion, the glorious
truth it contained. ‘
(q) BARROW AND ROCHES-
TER.—-The celebrated Lord Roches-
ter one day met Dr. Barrow in the
Park, and being determined, as he said,
to put down the rusty piece of divinity,
accosted him by taking off his hat, and,
with a profound bow, exclaimed, “Doc-
tor, I am yours to my shoe-tie.” The
doctor, perceiving his aim, returned the
salute with equal ceremony, “ My lord,
I am yours to the ground.” His lord-
ship then made a deeper congee, and
said, “Doctor, I am yours to the cen-
tre.” Barrow replied, with the sam\

he was from his questions.
formality, “ My lord, I am yours to the
antipodes;” on which Rochester made
another attempt, by exclaiming, “ Doc-
tor, I am yours to the lowest pit of hell.”
“ There, my lord,” said Barrow, “I
leave you,” and immediately walked
away.
Qfit. Personal Intercourse and Pastoral
Labor.
((1) DOCTOR SPRING AND THE
THOUGHTLESS YOUNG LADY._-.
Dr. Spring, of New-York, once related,
that during the period of a revival of
religion 'n that city, a young lady, the
object of high hope, the centre of wide
influence, capable of noble things, yet
carcering on the giddy steep of fashion
and folly, created in him no small soli-
citude, as he would have to give an ac-
count for her soul, every avenue to
which seemed most sedulously guarded.
He delayed the visit of counsel and ex-
hortation ; and delayed, till, rebuked by
conscience, he could do so no longer.
As soon as he called, and was ushered
into the saloon, the first and only person
whom he saw was this young lady,
bathed in tears, who immediately ex-
claimed, “ My dear pastor, I rejoice to
see you. I was fearful I was the only
one who had escaped your friendly no-
tice.” \/Vhat a rebuke to fear! What
an encouragement to hope, and to ac-
tion I
(1)) REV. MR. CHARLES’ PRAC-
TICE.—-When the Rev. Mr. Charles,
of Bala in ‘Vales, met a poor man or
woman on the road, he used to stop his
horse, and make the inquiry, “ Can you
read the Bible?” He was so much in
the habit of doing this, that he became
every where known from this practice.
“The gentleman who kindly asked the
poor people about the Bible and their
souls,” was Mr. Charles. Meeting one
day with an old man, on one of the
mountains, he said to him, “You are an
old man, and very near another world.”
“ Yes,” said he, “ and I hope I am go
ing to heaven.” “Do you know the
road there,-—do you know the word of
God ?” “ Pray, are you Mr. Charles?”
said the old man. He suspected who
He was
-I
485
269
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
frequently thus accosted, when asking
the poor people he met with about their
eternal concerns. “Pray, are you Mr.
Charles ?” was often the inquiry. When
he had time, he scarcely ever passed by
a poor man on the read, without talking
to him about his soul, and his knowledge
of the Bible. When he found any ig-
norant of the word of God, and not able
to read it, he represented to them, in a
kind and simple manner, the duty and
necessity of becoming acquainted with
it, and feelingly and compassionately
set before them the awful state of those
who leave the world without knowing
the word of God, and the way of saving
the soul. He sometimes succeeded in
persuading them to learn to read ; and
the good he thus did was no doubt very
great.
(0) PAYSON AND THE LAW’-
YER.-—The following rencounter with
a lawyer of Portland, who ranked among
the first in the place for wealth, and flu-
ency of speech, will show Dr. Payson’s
insight into character, and also that his
conquests were not confined to “weak
women and children.”
A lady, who was the common friend
of Mrs. Payson and the lawyer’s wife,
was sojourning in the family of the lat-
ter. After the females of the respec-
tive families had interchanged several
“calls,” Mrs. was desirous of re-
ceiving a formal visit from Mrs. Payson ;
but, to effect this, Mr. Payson must also
be invited ; and how to prevail with her
husband to tender an invita‘ion was the
great difficulty. He had been accus-
tomed to associate experimental religion
with meanness, and of course felt, or af-
fected, great contempt for the divine. as
if it were impossible for a man of his
religion to be also a man of talents. He
knew, by report, something of Mr. Pay-
snn’s practice on these occasions, and
dreading to have his house a place for
what appeared to him gloomy conversa-
tion, resisted his wife’s proposal as long
as he could do so, and retain the char-
acter of a gentleman. When he gave
his consent, it was with the positive de-
termination that Mr. Payson should not
converse on religion, nor ask a blessing
over his food, nor offer a prayer in his
house.

He collected his forces, andl
F~-\--——__-\__ _-.
made his preparations in conformity
with this purpose. When the appoint-
ed day arrived, he received his guests
very pleasantly, and entered at once
into animated conversation ; deter
mined, by obtruding his own favorite
topics, to forestall the divine. It was not
long before the latter discovered his ob-
ject, and summoned together his powers
to defeat it. He plied them with that
skill and address for which he was re-
markable; still, for some time, victory
was inclined to neither side, or to both
alternately. The lawyer, not long be-
fore, had returned from Washington
city, where he spent several weeks on
business at the supreme court of the
United States. Mr. Payson made some
inquiries respecting sundry personages
there, and among others, the chaplain of
the house of representatives. The coun-
sellor had heard him in the devotional
services of that assembly. “How did
you like him ’?” “Not at all; he ap-
peared to have more regard to those
around him, than he had to his Maker.”
Mr. Payson was very happy to hear him
recognize the distinction between pray-
ing to God, and praying to be heard of
men ; and dropped a series of observa-
tions on prayer, passing into a strain of
remark, which, without taking the form,
had all the effect on the lawyer’s con-
science, of a personal application. From
a topic so unwelcome, he strove to divert
the conversation ; and every few min-
utes would start something as wide from
it as the east is from the west. But as
often as he wandered, his guest would
dexterously, and without violence, bring
him back; and as often as he was
brought back, he would wander again.
At length the trying moment, which was
to turn the scale, arrived. The time
for the evening repast had come; the
servant had entered the parlor with the
provisions; the master of the feast be-
came unusually eloquent, resolved to
engross the conversation, to hear no
question or reply, to allow no interval
for “ grace,” and to give no indication,
by the eye, the hand, or the lips, that he
expected, or wished for such a service.
Just as the distribution was on the very
point of commencing, Mr. Payson in-
terposed the question, “ VV hat writer
486
PERSONAL INTERCOURSE AND PASTORAL LABOR.
262
has said, ‘ The devil invented the fash-
ion of carrying round tea, to prevent a
blessing being asked '2’ ” Our host felt
himself “cornered ;” but, making a
virtue of necessity, replied, “I don’t
know what writer it is; but, if you
please, we will foil the devil this time.
Will you ask a blessing, sir '2” A bless-
ing, of course, was asked ; and he brook-
ed, as well as he could, this first certain
defeat, still resolved not to sustain an-
other by the offering of thanks at the
closing of the repast. But in this, too,
he was disappointed. By some well-
timed sentiment of his reverend guest,
he was brought into such a dilemma,
that he could not, without absolute rude-
ness, decline asking him to return
thanks. And thus he contested every
inch of his ground, till the visit termi-
nated. But, at every stage, the minis-
ter proved too much for the lawyer. Mr.
Payson retained his character as a min-
ister of religion, and gained his point in
every thing; and that, too, with so ad-
mirable a tact, in a way so natural and
unconstrained, and with such respectful
deference to his host, that the latter
could not be displeased, except with
himself. He not only acknowledged
God on the reception of food, but read
the Scriptures and prayed before sepa-
rating from the family ; and did it at the
request of the master, though made, as
in every other instance, in violation of
a fixed purpose. The chagrin of this
disappointment, however, eventually be-
came the occasion of the lawyer’s great-
est joy. His mind was never entirely
at ease, till he found peace in believing.
Often did he revert with devout thank-
fulness to God, to the visit which had
occasioned his mortification ; and ever
after regarded, with more than common
veneration and respect, the servant of
God whom he had despised; and was
glad to receive his ministrations, in ex-
change for those on which he had for-
merly attended.
(at) THE lNFIDEL’S RETORT.
-—A preacher perceiving, on one occa-
sion, among his hearers, an individual
who was known in the neighborhood as
a ringlea ier of infidelity, was induced
to hope that some alteration had taken
place in his \ iews. To ascertain wheth-

er such was the fact, he caled upon
him the next day, and told him how
happy he had been to see him at the
house of prayer the previous evening ;
the more so, as he had been given to
understand that he did not believe the
gospel. “ Nor you either,” said the un-
ceremonious skeptic. “ VVhat !” he ex-
claimed, “ do you mean, sir, to call me
a hypocrite ?” “ I call you no ill names,
sir,” he coolly replied; “ but what I
mean to say is this; you have known
of my infidelity for years, and thoughl
have lived all the while within a short
distance of your dwelling, you have
never before attempted to enlighten me
as to these matters; a thing which, to
do you justice, I must believe you woulo
have done, had you thought them as im-
portant as your creed would make them.
Indeed, I can hardly fancy that you
would see me going to hell, and never
try to save my soul.”
(e) MISTAKE OF NEFF.—One
day, as Felix Neff was walking in a
street in the city of Lausanne, he saw
at a distance a man whom he took for
one of his friends. He ran behind him,
tapped him on the shoulder, before look-
ing him in his face, and asked him,
“ \Vhat is the state of your soul, my
friend '2” The stranger turned; N eff
perceived his error, apologized, and went
his way. About three or four years af-
terwards, a person came to N eff, and
accosted him, saying, he was indebted
to him for his inestimable kindness.
N etf did not recognize the man, and
begged he would explain. The stran-
ger replied, “Have you forgotten an
unknown person, whose shoulder you
touched in the street in Lausanne, ask-
ing him, ‘ How do you find your soul ?’
It was I ; your question led me to seri-
ous reflections. and new I find it is well
wz.'th my soul.” This proves what ap-
parently small means may I)! blessed
of God for the conversion of sinners, and
how many opportunities for doing good
we are continually letting slip, and
which thus pass irrevocably beyond our
reach. One of the questions which ev-
ery Christian should propose to himself,
on setting out on a journey, is, “ “7 hat
opportunities shall I have to do good ?”
And one of the points on which he
487
263
MINISTERS, CHRISTIAN.

should examine himself, on his return,
is, “What opportunities have I lost ?”
Q63. Success in their Labors.
((1) THE DAIR.YMAN’S DAUGH-
TER.—Some years ago, a vessel, which
was blessed with a pious chaplain, and
was bound to a distant part of the world,
happened to be detained by contrary
winds, over a Sabbath, at the Isle of
Wight. The chaplain improved the
opportunity to preach to the inhabitants.
His text was, “ Be clothed with humili-
ty.” Among his hearers was a thought-
less girl, who had come to show her fine
dress, rather than to be instructed. The
sermon was the means of her conver-
sion. Her name was Elizabeth VVall-
bridge, the celebrated DAIRYMAN’S
DAUGHTER, whose interesting history,
by Rev. Leigh Richmond, has been
printed in various languages, and wide-
ly circulated, to the spiritual benefit of
thousands. What a reward was this
for a single sermon preached “out of
season I”
(I2) BERRIDGE AND HICKS.——It
is credibly reported of the Rev. John
Berridge, the well known vicar of Ev-
erton, that in his itinerant labors through
the country he preached from ten to
twelve sermons a week upon an aver-
age, and frequently rode a hundred
miles. Nor were such extraordinary
exertions occasional, but continued
through the long succession of more
than twenty years. The success that
followed these, as well as his stated la-
bors amongst his own flock, may be es-
timated from the fact, that he was visit-
ed, in the first year after his own spir-
itual illumination, by a thousand differ-
ent persons under serious impressions.
It is computed, that under his own min-
istry, and that of Mr. Hicks, a neigh-
boring minister, of whose conversion he
had been the instrument, four thousand
persons were awakened to a concern for
their souls in the space of twelve months.
(0) MR. GRIMSI-IAW’S SUCCESS.
-—“ The last time I was with Mr. Grim-
shaw,’7 says Mr. Newton, “as we were
standing together upon a hill near Ha-
worth,.and surveying the romantic pros-
pect around us. he expressed himself to

.-
the following purport, and I believe I
nearly retain his very words, for they
made a deep impression upon me while
he spoke :——‘ When I first came into
this country, if I had gone half a day’s
journey on horseback towards the east,
west, north, and south, I could not have
met with or heard of one truly serious
person; but now, through the blessing
of God upon the poor services of the
most unworthy of his ministers, besides
a considerable number whom I have
seen or known to have departed this life,
like Simeon, rejoicing in the Lord’s
salvation; and besides five dissenting
churches or congregations, ‘of which the
ministers, and nearly every one of the
members, were first awakened under
my ministry; I have still at my sacra-
ment, if the weather is favorable, from
three to five hundred communicants, of
the far greater part of whom, so far as
man, who cannot see the heart, and who
can therefore only determine by appear-
ances, profession, and conduct, may
judge, Ican give almost as particular
an account as I can of myself. I know
the state of their progress in religion.
By my frequent visits and converse with
them,I am acquainted with their sever-
al temptations, trials, and exercises, both
personal and domestic, both spiritual
and temporal, almost as intimately as if
I had lived in their families.’ ”
(d) HILL AND THE TWO OLD
MEN .-—The Rev. Thomas Qaclrson, of
Stockwell, in the memoir of Mr. Hill,
furnished to the Evangelical Magazine,
states :—Pe1haps no man in modern
times has been more honored than Mr.
Hill, as the instrument of converting
souls ; his talent appeared more partic-
ularly in awakening the careless; in-
stances of which the writer has had
many opportunities of witnessing; and
he does not remember ever having
stayed two days with Mr. H. in any
town, without meeting with one person
or more to whom his ministry had been
made useful. One case, among many,
he cannot omit: the scene occurred at
Devonport, Devonshire, after Mr. H.
had been preaching a missionary ser-
mon to a crowded congregation in the
large chapel in Prince’s street. The
people had withdrawn, and the deacon:
488
SUCCESS IN THEIR LABORS.
and a few friends had retired, with Mr.
H., into the vestry, when two tall, ven-
erable looking men, upwards of seventy
years of age, appeared at the vestry
door. After a short pause they enter-
ed, arm-in-arm, and advanced towards
Mr. H., when one of them said, with
some degree of trepidation, “Sir, will
you permit two old sinners to have the
honor to shake you by the hand '2” He
replied, with some reserve, “Yes, sir :”
when one of these gentlemen, the other
hanging on his arm, took his hand, kiss-
ed it, bathed it with his tears, and said,
“Sir, do you remember preaching on
the spot where this chapel now stands,
fifty years ago ?” “Yes, I do,” was
the reply. The old man then proceed-
ed to say, “ Oh, sir! never can the dear
friend who has held of my arm, or my-
self, forget that sermon; we were then
two careless young men, in his majesty’s
dock-yard, posting to destruction as fast
as time and sin could convey us thither.
Having heard that an interesting young
cler yman was to preach out of doors,
We etermined to go and have some fun ;
accordingly we loaded our pockets with
stones, intending to pelt you ; but, sir,
when you arrived, our courage failed,
and as soon as you engaged in prayer,
We were so deeply moved that our pur-
pose wavered, and as soon as you began
to speak, the word came with power to
our hearts; the big tears rolled down
our cheeks; we put our hands in our
pockets, and dropped the stones one af-
ter another, until they were all gone ;
for God had taken the stone out of our
hearts. When the service was over,
we retired ; but our hearts were too full
to speak, until we came near to our
lodgings, when my friend at my elbow
said, ‘John, this will not do; we are
both wrong ; good night.’ This was all
he could utter; he retired to his apart-
ment, I to mine ; but neither of us dared
ta go to bed, lest we should awake in
hell ; and from that time, sir, we hum-
bly hope we were converted to God, who,
of his infinite mercy, has kept us in his
ways to the present moment; and we
thought, sir,if you would permit us, af-
ter the lapse of half a hrndred years,
to have the pleasure of slr aking you by
Zhe hand before we go In ne, it would

263
__
be the greatest honor that could be con-
ferred on us.” Mr. H. was deeply af-
fected ; the tears rolled down his ven-
erable checks in quick succession; he
fell on the necks of the old men quite
in the patriarchal style ; and there you
might have seen them, locked in each
others7 arms, weeping tears of holy y
and gratitude to the Father of mercies.
It was a scene at which Gabriel might
have rejoiced, and infidelity must have
turned pale. The writer is aware that
he cannot do justice to it by his descrip-
tion, though he feels, at this distance of
time, something like celestial pleasure
in recording what he then witnessed.
(6) NEWS FOR A DYING MIN-
ISTER.—In the latter part of the last
century, a Christian minister at Shrews-
bury was brought to the closing scenes
of life. He had long grieved over his
apparent uselessness in the church of
Christ, and when seized with his last
illness, this regret was considerably in-
creased. The thought planted thorns
in his pillow, and embittered his dying
moments. At this very period, two
persons, entirely unacquainted with the
feelings of the departing minister, ap-
plied for communion with the church he
had long served, and attributed their
conversion to God to his labors. A
friend immediately hastened to commu-
nicate the intelligence to the venerable
man, who listened to the statement with
holy joy beaming in his countenance ;
and then, gathering up his feet into the
bed, adopted the language of Simeon,
“Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant
depart in peace, for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation,” and closed his eyes
for ever on earthly objects.
A CHAIN OF INFLUENCE.
——The 31st of January, 1841, when
Mr. Jay, of Bath, England, completed
fifty years of his ministry, it was ob-
served by his people as a Jubilee. On
that occasion the Rev. Timothy East,
of Birmingham, stated, that a ser-
mon Mr. Jay preached in London in the
early part of his ministry, was blessed
to the conversion of a thoughtless and
dissolute young man, who became a
minister. A sermon preached by that
minister thirty-nine years ago, was the
arrow of the Almightv that brought Mr.
489
263
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
East to repentance, just as he had de-
termined to leave his native country
forever. And a sermon preached by
Mr. East twenty-seven years ago, in
London, was the means of the conver-
sion of a careless, gay, and dissipated
young man, who was John Williams,
the late missionary to the South Seas.
(g) THE FAITHFUL PASTOR.—
Dr. Gilly relates an anecdote, as it was
told him by a well known Irish char-
acter, Thaddeus Conolly, who used to
spend much of his time in wandering
through Ireland, a11d instructing the
lower classes in their native language.
“I went,” said he, “one Sunday, into a
church, to which a new incumbent had
been lately appointed. The congrega-
ion did not exceed half a dozen, but the
)l‘6&Cl'16I' delivered himself with as
much energy and affection as if he
were addressing a crowded audience.
After service, I expressed to the clergy-
man my surprise that he should hold
forth so fervently to such a small num-
ber.” “ Were there but one,” said the
Rector, “ my anxiety for his improve-
ment would make me equally ener-
getic.” The following year Conolly
went into the same church, the congre-
gation was multiplied twenty-fold; a
third year he found the church full.
(lt) THE NEGRO’S ADVICE.-
A young minister received a call from
two different societies at once, to be-
come their pastor. One was rich, and
able to give him a large .-.alary, and
was well united; the other was poor,
and so divided that they had driven
away their minister. In this condition
he applied to his father for advice. An
aged negro servant who overheard what
they said, made this reply: “ Massa,
go where there is the least money
and the most devil.” He took the ad-
vice, and was made the happy instru-
ment of uniting a distracted church,
and converting many souls to Christ.
DR. BEECHER’S SERMON
TO ONE HEARER.—Dr. Beecher
once engaged to preach for a country
minister on exchange, and the Sabbath
proved to be one excessively stormy,
cold, and uncomfortable. It was in
mid- winter, and the snow was piled all
along in the roads, so as to make

the passage very difficult. Still the
minister urged his horse through the
drifts, put the animal into a shed-
and went in. As yet there was no
person in the house, and after looking
about, the old gentleman—thenyoung——
took his seat in the pulpit. Soon the
door opened, and a single individual
walked up the aisle, looked about, and
took a seat. The hour came for com-
mencing service, but no more hearers.
Whether to preach to such an au-
dience, was a question—-and it was one
that Lyman Beecher was not long de-
ciding. He felt that he had a duty to
perform, and he had no right to refuse
to do it, because only one man could
reap the benefit of it; and accordingly
he went through all the services, pray-
ing, singing, preaching, and the bene-
diction, with only one hearer. And
when all was over, he hastened down
from the desk to speak to his congrega-
tion, but he had departed.
A circumstance so rare was referred
to occasionally, but twenty years after,
it was brought to the doctor’s mind
quite strangely. Traveling somewhere
in Ohio, the doctor alighted from the
stage one day in a pleasant village,
when a gentleman stepped up and
spoke to him, familiarly calling him by
name. “I do not remember you,” said
the doctor. “ I suppose not,” said the
stranger; “ but we once spent two
hours together in a house alone in a
storm.” “I do not recall it, sir,” added
the old man, “pray when was it?”
“ Do you remember preaching, twenty
years ago, in such a place, to a single
person '2” “Yes, yes,” said the doctor,
grasping his hand, “I do, indeed, and
if you are the man, I have been wishing
to see you ever since.” “I am the
man, sir; and that sermon saved my
soul, made a minister of me, and yonder
is my church! The converts of that
sermon, sir, are all over Ohio.”
(j) RESULTS OF HUMBLE EF-
FORTS.—At one of the anniversaries
in N ew-York, Mr. Todd, of Northamp-
ton, Mass., said-
When a boy, Providence sent an
humble, unostentatious minister among
us—a man who is now laboring in the
wilderness at the West, almost unknown.
490
TRIALS OF MINISTERS.
264
v_-_
There was a revival under his preach-
ing-—not much said or thought about it,
for only a few poor boys and girls were
the subjects. It was one among many
of similar revivals under the labor of
this man. The subjects were poor
Sabbath school children: but I can fix
my eye upon them, and see two or three
of these girls are devoted wives of mi-
nisters, two or three of these boys are
deacons of churches ; two more, at least,
ministers of the gospel (of whom the
humble individual before you is one).
I can point to at least eight new, vigor-
ous, prosperous churches, gathered by
these men, and nearly a score of young
men from these churches, on the way
to the ministry—severa’l powerful re-
vivals of religion, many new Sabbath
schools organized, and hundreds of new-
born souls, who have begun to sing the
song of Moses and the Lamb.
All this can be traced directly to the
little seed which this humble man of
God cast by the wayside.
964. Trials of Ministers.
(ct) WAY OF TREATING COM-
PLAINTS.—-A young preacher stated,
one day, to the late Mr. Drew, that he
had received an anonymous letter,
complaining of his pulpit oratory. Mr.
Drew said to him, “ Do not heed it, any
further than to profit by its observations,
if true. I have had scores of such
letters since I became an author, and
often with postage to pay. They never
trouble me, and I generally put them
into the fire. But these letters are
sometimes of use. Our good qualities
we may learn from our friends; from
our enemies we may chance to discover
our defects.”
(Z2) DEJECTED MINISTER SA-
TISFIED.-—The Rev. Ambrose Mor-
ton was generally esteemed a good
scholar, and remarkably humble, sanc-
tified, and holy, but was inclined to
melancholy, to his own discouragement.
In his younger days, when he was
assistant to another minister, some good
people, in his hearing, speaking of their
conversion, and ascribing it under God
to that minister’s preaching, he seemed
cast down, as if he were of no use. A

sensible countryman, who was present,
and who had a particular value for his
ministry, made this observation for his
encouragement: “An ordinary work-
man may hew down timber, but it must
be an accomplished artist tnat shall
frame it for the building.” Mr. M.
therefore rose up, and cheerfully replied,
“ If I am of any use,I am satisfied.”
Indeed his preaching was always solid
and judicious, and highly esteemed by
all but himself; and was especially
useful to experienced Christians.
(0) SOMETHING MORE AI/VFUL
THAN THE JUDGMENT.—A cele-
brated preacher of the seventeenth cen-
tury, in a sermon to a crowded audience,
described the terrors of the last judg-
ment with such eloquence, pathos, and
force of action, that some of his audience
not only burst into tears, but sent forth
piercing cries, as if the Judge himself
had been present, and was about to pass
upon them their final sentence. In the
height of this commotion, the preacher
called upon them to dry their tears and
cease their cries, as he was about to add
something still more awful and astonish-
ing than any thing he had yet brought
before them. Silence being obtained,
he, with an agitated countenance and
solemn voice addressed them thus:
“In one quarter of an hour from this
time, the emotions which you have just
now exhibited will be stifled; the re-
membrance of the fearful truths which
excited them will vanish ; you will
return to your carnal occupations, or
sinful pleasures, with your usual avidity,
and you will treat all you have heard,
‘ as a tale that is told I’ ”
(d) MINISTER’S HARVEST DAY.
—-During the great revival of religion
in America, which took place under
Mr. \Vhitefield, and others distinguished
for their piety and zeal at that period,
Mr. Tennent was laboriously active, and
much engaged to help forward the
work ; in the performance of which he
met with strong and powerful tempta-
tions. The following is from his own
lips :-
On the evening preceding public
worship, he selected a subject for the
discourse intenced to be delivered, and
made some progress in his preparations.
491
264
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
In the morning he resumed the same
subject, with an intention to extend his
thoughts further on it; but was pre-
sently assaulted with a temptation that
the Bible was not of Divine authority,
but the invention of man. He instantly
endeavored to repel the temptation by
prayer, but his endeavors proved un-
availing. The temptation continued,
and fastened upon him with greater
strength as the time advanced for pub-
lic service. He lost all the thoughts
which he had prepared on the preceding
evening. He tried other subjects, but
could get nothing for the people. The
whole book of God, under that distress-
ing state of mind, was a sealed book to
him; and, to add to his affliction, he
was “ shut up in prayer :” a cloud, dark
as that of Egypt, oppressed his mind.
Thus agonized in spirit, he proceeded
to the church, where he found a large
congregation assembled, and waiting to
hear the word ; and then he was more
deeply distressed than ever; and espe-
cially for the dishonor which he feared
would fall upon religion through him
that day. He resolved, however, to
attempt the service. He introduced it
by singing a psalm, during which time
his agitation increased to the highest
degree. When the moment for prayer
commenced, he arose, as one in the
most painful and perilous situation, and
with arms extended to heaven, began
with this exclamation, “ Lord, have
mercy upon me.” On the utterance
of this petition, he was heard; the
thick cloud instantly broke away, and
light shone upon his soul. The result
was a deep solemnity throughout the
congregation; and the house, at the
end of the prayer, was a place of weep-
ing. He delivered the subject of his
evening meditations, which was brought
to his full remembrance, with an over-
flowing abundance of other weighty and
solemn matter. The Lord blessed his
discourse, so that it proved the happy
means of the conversion of about thirty
0ersons. This day he ever afterwards
spoke of as “his harvest day.”
(e) TEXT FOR A DISCOURAGED
MINISTER.--After the Rev. John
Clark, of Trowbridge, had been engaged
in the ministry for a few years, his mind

——'-—_-.I-.
became greatly depressed with a view
of its responsibility, a sense of his own
inability, and the want of more success.
At length these discouragements were
so oppressive, that he assured some
Christian friends, one Sabbath afternoon,
that he could preach no longer. In
vain did they try to remove his diffi-
culties, or to persuade him at least to
address the congregation that evening,
as no supply could be obtained. He
declared his positive inability to preach
any more. At this moment a pious old
woman applied to speak to the minister.
Being admitted, she requested him to
preach from that text, “Then I said, I
will speak no more in‘ his name: but
his word was in my heart as a burning
fire shut up in my bones, and I was
weary with forbearing, and I could not
stay,” .Ier. 20: 9. She stated that she
did not know where the words were,
but that her mind was so much im-
pressed With them, that she could not
forbear to request him to preach from
them that evening. Being satisfied that
she was entirely unacquainted with the
circumstances which had just transpired,
Mr. Clark was assured that Providence
had thus interposed that he should con-
tinue his ministry. He preached that
evening from the text thus given, and
never afterwards was greatly distressed
on the subject.
(f) SERMON THROWN UPON
THE F lRE.—Mr. TroWt’s anxiety in
the anticipation of the public services,
had been distressing; and the trepida-
tion of his mind was such, while con-
ducting it, that he Went home sorrow-
ful. The aged widow of a minister
endeavored to encourage him. “ Do
not fear,” she said : “ my husband once
came down stairs, complaining, that it
was no use for him to attempt to study
any longer; and threw what he had
written into the fire. I immediately
took it out, and said, “No, you ought
not to burn it—do not be dejected--God
will be better to you than your fears !”
Animated by his Wife, the good man re-
entered his study. He composed ano
ther sermon on the occasion, which was
the means of awakening a person who
heard it, to serious attention to religion;
and when he aflerwards preached the
492
FAULTS OF MINISTERS
p—_
264, 265

sermon, which he had, in dejection of
mind thrown in the fire, that sermon
was also attended with a like blessing
from God.
(g) ROBERT HALL’S FIRST
EFFORTS.—Robert Hall, desiring a
license to commence preaching, he was
appointed to deliver an address in the
vestry of Broadmead Chapel from 1Tim.
4: I0: “ Therefore we both labor and
suffer reproach, because we trust in the
living God, who is the Savior of all
men : especially of those that believe.”
After proceeding for a short time, much
to the gratification of his auditory, he
suddenly paused, and covering his face
with his hands, exclaimed, “ Oh I I have
lost my ideas,” and sat down, his hands
still hiding his face.
The failure, however, painful as it
was to his tutors, and humiliating to
nimself, was such as rather augmented
than diminished their persuasion of what I
he could accomplish, if once he acquir-
ed self-possession. He was therefore
appointed to speak again on the same
subject, at the same place, the ensuing
week.
This second attempt was accompa-
nied by a second failure, still more pain-
ful to witness, and still more grievous
to bear. He hastened from the vestry,
and on retiring to his room, exclaimed,
“ If this does not humble me, the devil
must have me I” Such were the early
efforts of him whose humility afterwards
became as conspicuous as his talents;
and who, for nearly half a century, ex-
cited universal attention and admiration
by the splendor of his pulpit eloquence.
Q65. Faults of llIIl1lSlJtl'S.
(a) DR. MASON ’S CRITICISM.-
On one occasion it is related of Dr.
Mason, of N ew-York, that after the de-
livery of a discourse appointed for the
day, and which he and others were ex-
pected to criticise, he was observed to
remain silent much longer than usual
for him on similar occasions, apparent-
ly absorbed in thought, and hesitating
Whether to express his opinion of the
performance or not. At length he was
appealed to by some one, and asked,
Whether he had any remarks to make.


He arose, and said, “I admire the ser
men for the beauty of its style—for the
splendor of its imagery-—for the correct-
ness of its sentiments—and for the point
of its arguments; but. sir, it wanted
one thing;” and then pausing till the
eyes of all were fixed upon him, he add-
ed, “It needed to be baptized in the
name of the Lord Jesus Christ, to en-
title it to the name of a CHRISTIAN ser-
men.”
(7)) DR. DVVIGHT AND THE
YOUNG CLERGYMAN.-—A young
clergyman once called upon Dr.
Dwight, and inquired respecting the
best method of treating a very difficult
and abstruse point in mental philosophy,
upon which he was preparing a sermon.
“I cannot give you any information
upon the subject,” the doctor replied;
“ I am not familiar with such topics. I
leave them for young men.”
(c) DEATH-BED ESTIMATE.--
A celebrated Irish preacher, distinguish-
ed for the eloquence of his pulpit pre-
parations, is said to have exclaimed on
his death-bed, “ Speak not to me of my
sermons; alas! I was fiddling whilst
Rome was burning.”
(d) PREACHING ALMOST
EVERY THING.—The Abbé
preached a fast-day sermon before Louis
the Sixteenth, which contained a great
deal of politics, finance, and govern-
ment, and very little of the gospel. “It
is a pity,” said the king, as he came
out of the church; “if the abbé had
only touched a little on religion, he
would have to ill us of every thing.”
(e) NOT DEALING IN SCRIP-
TURE.—A woman went one day to
l1ear Dr. preach, and, as usual,
carried a pocket Bible with her, that she
might turn to any of the passages the
preacher might happen to refer to. But
she found that she had no use for her
Bible there ; and on coming away, said
to a friend, “I should have left my
Bible at home today, and have brought
my dictionary. The doctor does not
deal in Scripture, but in such learned
words and phrases as require the help
of an interpreter to render them intelli-
gible.”
LONG PULPIT EXERCISES.
———Complaints against long religious ser

493
MINISTERS,
CHRISTIAN.

__—— -

________. .-__.4-_..
vices are veiy frequent. Few things
appear so had to some persons as to be
kept in the house of God more than one
or two hours. Let us see how it was
in the seventeenth century. Mr. Howe
was then minister of Great Torrington,
in Devonshire. His labors here were
characteristic of the times. On the
public fasts, it was his common method
to begin about nine in the morning, with
a prayer for about a quarter of an hour,
in which he begged a blessing on the
work of the day ; and afterwards read
and expounded a chapter or psalm, in
which he spent about three-quarters of
an hour ; then prayed an hour ; preach-
ed another hour; and prayed again for
half an hour. After this, he retired,
and took a little refreshment for a quar-
er of an hour or more, the people sing-
ing all the while. He then returned to
the pulpit, prayed for another hour,
gave them another sermon of about an
hour’s length; and so concluded the
service of the day, about four o’clock
in the afternoon, with half an hour or
more of prayer.
(g) A FUNNY PREACHER.-
A popular preacher, after a pulpit ex-
hibition of his wit to a country congre-
gation, had particularly attracted the
attention of a boy who was present. On
going home to his mother, he exclaimed,
“ Well, mother, I shall never forget
that preacher——he is the best of all I
ever heard ! l” “ I/Vhy so, my boy '2”
“ Oh, mother, because he was so very
funny !” This anecdote, though short,
may be a useful hint to ministers who
are in the habit of indulging their natu-
ral levity in the pulpit.
(h) CRYING IN THE WRONG
PLACE.--I remember, (says Foster, in
speaking of Robert Hall,) at the dis-
tance of many years, with what vivid-
ness of the ludicrous he related an
anecdote of a preacher long since de-
ceased, of some account in his day and
connection. He would, in preaching,
sometimes weep, or seem to weep, when
the people wondered why, as not per-
ceiving in what he was saying any
cause for such emotion, in the exact
places where it occurred. After his
death one of his hearers happening to
inspect some of his manuscript sermons,
~
fi_
exclaimed, “ I have found the explana-
tion; we used to wonder at the good
doctor’s weeping with so little reason
sometimes as it seemed. In his ser.
mons, there is written here and there
on the margins, ‘ cry here.’ N ow I
really believe the doctor sometimes
mistook the place, and that was the
cause of what appeared so unaccount-
able.’ ’
(Z) PAYING LIKE A SINNER.
—Several years ago, in North Carolina,
where it is not customary for the tavern
keepers to charge the ministers for lodg-
ing and refreshments, a preacher pre-
sumingly stopped at a tavern one even-
ing, made himself comfortable during
the night; and in the morning entered
the stage without offering to pay for his
accommodations. The landlord came
running up to the stage, and said,
“there was some one in there who had
not settled his bill”--the passengers all
said they had, except the preacher, who
said he had understood that he never
charged ministers any thing. “ VVhat,
you a minister of the gospel, a man of
God '2” cried the inn-keeper, “ you came
to my house last night, you sat down at
the table without asking a blessing, I li;
you up to your room, and you went to
bed without praying to your Maker,
(for I staid there until you had undress-
ed ;) you rose and washed without say-
ing grace, and as you came to my house
like a sinner, you have got to pay like
a sinner.”
THE THIRD HEAD.--A
certain French preacher, after a long
and pompous introduction, said, “ I shall
now proceed, my hearers, to divide my
subject into three parts. 1. I shall tell
you about that which I know, and that
you do not know. 2. I shall tell about
that which you know, and I do not
know. 3. And lastly, I shall tell you
about that which neither you nor I
know.” Alas! how much preaching
‘comes under the third head.’ How
often, when Paul supplies the text, has
Tully, Plato, Epictetus taught! If
there was more simple, plain preaching
to the conscience, instead of an osten-
tatious display of learning, or strife
about words to no profit ; we should see
m ‘e faithful, consistent Christians, and
494
FAULTS OF MINISTERS.
265
-_ - ow A

more done to advance the mild kingdom
of Christ.
(It) FALSE AND UNGODLY
DELICACY.——The Rev. Dr. Griflin
used to relate an anecdote of a clergy-
man, who said in the course of a sermon,
“ My dear hearers, unless you repent
of your sins and turn unto God, you
will go to a place that it would be inde-
licate to name before so refined an as-
sembly.” “Such a man,” the doctor
would add, “ought to be hurled with
indignation from the pulpit.” A sen-
timentalism (for the want of a better
word) pervades the minds of many men,
and begets a tas.e. that savors far more
of false delicacy than real refinement or
good sense.
(1) SERMON FOR DR. MAN-
TON .-—Dr. Harris relates, that while
Dr. Manton was minister at Covent
Garden, he was called on to preach be-
fore the lord mayor, and the companies
of the city, at St. Paul’s. He studied
for the occasion an elaborate discourse,
and was heard by the most intelligent
part of his congregation with great ad-
miration. But, as he was returning
home in the evening, a poor man pulled
the sleeve of his gown, and asked if he
was the gentleman who had preached
before the lord mayor in the morning.
On the doctor’s replying in the afiir-
mative, the man added, “Sir,I came
with the hope of getting some good for
my soul, but I was greatly disappoint-
ed ; for I could not understand a great
deal of what you said; you were quite
above me.” The doctor wept, and re-
plied, “Friend, if I did not give you
a sermon, you have given me one ; and,
by the grace of God, I will never again
play the fool, in preaching before my
lord mayor in such a manner.”
(m) UNDERSTOOD BY FIVE OR
SlX.—I remember some years ago,
says a writer in the Religious Maga-
zine, to have heard a young minister
who was settled in a small obscure
town, preach a sermon at an association
meeting, which was richly adorned with
the graces of finished composition. He
was afterwards asked by a senior broth-
er, whether he preached such sermons
at home ; and having answered in the
aflirmative, “And how many of your

people,” it was said, “ do you suppose
can understand you ?” “ A bout five or
six,” he replied. The avowal produced,
as might be expected, among men of
piety and experience a mixed emotion
of grief and indignation. Nor can we
conceive of a more gross and revolting
inconsistency, than that of a Christian
pastor and teacher pleasing himself and
a few fond admirers by picking flowers
and wearing pretty garlands, when the
sheep of his flock are ready to perish
for want of being properly watched and
fed. What! will a man who has as-
sumed an office of deep and awful res-
ponsibility, spend his time, his strength,
and his ingenuity in courting the muses,
and canvassing for literary honors, when
the souls of his charge are many of
them rushing, unprepared, into eterni-
ty l Oh, shameful prostitution of the
noblest function !
(12) THE REFORMER AND THE
QUAKER.-A country clergyman was
boasting in a large company of the suc-
cess he had met with in reforming his
parishioners, on whom his labors, he
said, had produced a wonderful change
for the better. Being asked in what
respect, he replied that, when he came
first among them, they were a set of
unmannerly clowns, who paid him no
more deference than they did to one an-
other ; did not so much as pull off their
hat when they spoke to him, but bawled
out as roughly and familiarly as though
he was their equal ; whereas now they
never presumed to address him but cap
in hand and in a submissive voice, made
him the best bow when they were at
ten yards’ distance, and styled him your
reverence at every word. A Quaker,
who had heard the whole patiently,
made answer, “ And so, friend, the up-
shot of this reformation, of which thou
hast so much carnal glorying, is, that
thou hast taught thy people to worship
thyself.”
(0) BAD EFFECTS OF LEVI-
TY.-—An eminent medical practitioner,
who is also a man of true piety, was
called to attend a patient on the Lord’s
day, at such a distance from his own
place of Worship, as to render his at-
tendance there impossible. Not will-
ing, however, to lose the benefit of pub-
495
966
CHRISTIAN.
MINISTERS,
lic worship altogether, he repaired to a
neighboring chapel : but as the service
was far advanced, and the place much
crowded, he could get no farther than
the door. The preacher was long and
deservedly esteemed in the Christian
world, but of that class who are unhap-
pily prone to mingle oddities and witti-
cisms in their discourse. His text Was
found to be, “Almost thou persuadest
me to be a Christian 3” and as he pro-
ceeded, many ludicrous expressions es-
caped him, not at all to the taste of his
professional hearer. This gentleman
was, however, particularly struck with
the effect of his mode of preaching on a
person who stood near him, who ap-
peared to be a very respectable and in-
telligent young man. After listening
some time with great attention, but with
evident and growing indications of unea-
siness and disgust, he hastily retired
from the scene, muttering in an audible
tone, “ If this be preaching the gospel of
Jesus Christ, I know nothing of the
meaning of the New Testament. A1-
most thou persuadest me to be an infidel.”
Q66. It1iscellanc0us.
ta) NETTLETCN AND THE
UNFAITHFUL MINISTER.-— The
following anecdote of Dr. Nettleton, is
a delightful instance of his peculiar ten-
derness for the ministerial reputation
and influence ofhis brethren. It serves
both as a powerful rebuke to that reck-
less spirit which too often marks the
character of flaming zealots, and as a
gentle admonition for that reprehensi-
ble coldness, which perhaps equally as
often prevails in the bosom of the min-
istry.
Dr. Nettleton was most sensitively
careful to sustain the influence of his
brethren. He would not, when he
Knew there was an evident deficiency,
do any thing that might tend, in the
least degree, to disparage them in the
estimation of their people. There was
one instance, which I am about to name,
in which he showed his delicacy of
feeling and address, in a most Christian
manner. A clergyman who lived not
far from the place where Dr. Nettleton
resided, bore the reputation of an indo-

lent and ineflicient pastor, and had, in
consequence, caused considerable un-
easiness amongst his people. Some of
the more faithful part of the church,
who deplored the low state of religion
and growing laxity of morals among the
youth of the congregation, went to Dr.
N ettleton, aud desired him to come and
preach to them. To this he would by
no means consent, without an express
invitation from the pastor, and of that he
had little hope. But there happened to
be a desert spot on the borders of the
town, where religious meetings were
seldom held, and where the influence of
the pastor did not particularly extend.
When he was made acquainted with
the fact, he said that he had no objec-
tion to go there and hold a few evening
meetings with them. He went, and
without exciting observation, held seve-
ral religious meetings. In a short time,
a number of the youth were under deep
conviction for sin. As soon as he per-
ceived the joyful appearance, he re-
quested all who were under serious im-
pressions, to meet with him the next
day, informing them that he had some-
thing of an important nature, which he
wished to communicate. When they
had all met, he advised the young ladies
to go that same evening to their pastor,
and ask his counsel respecting the pres-
ent state of their minds ; and the young
men he advised to go the evening fol-
lowing for the same purpose. They all
did as he had prudently directed them ;
and the effect was so powerfully elec-
tric, that the slothful pastor rose up at
once, went to Work with all his might,
preached and labored with assiduous
energy, and was the favored instrument
in reaping a glorious harvest of souls.
As soon as the pastor got thus fairly to
work, Dr. N. retired; the pastor ever
remained a faithful and useful man.
(Z2) HOW TO HAVE A GC 01)
MINISTER.--Every church, it is pre.
sumed, is desiring a good minister, yet
every one may not in their own appre-
hension be favored with such a blessing.
Many churches often feel that their min-
ister is not quite what they desire him
to be--not quite the man for the place
which he is in. Their eyes are there-
fore turned away from the minister
496
MISCELLANEOUS.
286
whose labors they enjoy, to some other
man, or to their beau ideal of a minister,
and they desire a change. For the
benefit of such we would relate the fol-
lowing circumstances which we are told
are substantially matters of fact.
A young man was settled in a large
and popular congregation in New Eng-
land, under very flattering circum-
stances. The church and people had
settled him With the belief that he was
a young man of more than ordinary tal-
ents, and with the expectation of his be-
coming a distinguished man. After a
year or two, when the novelty of the
thing had Worn off, the current seemed
to change, and the feeling prevailed that
Mr. B was not, nor likely to be,
quite what they expected. He did not
grow as they thought he would ; he did
not perform that amount of labor which
was needed to build up the church and
interest the congregation. Things drag-
ged heavily. The young man felt the
influence of the chill atmosphere which
thus surrounded him. His spirits sunk,
his health ran down, and it was whis-
pered around in the society, and in the
neighboring towns, that Mr. B
would probably have to leave, he was not
the man for the place, he was not the man
of talents which they had anticipated.
While things were in this state, at a
meeting of the church when the pastor
was absent, (perhaps called to see what
should be done,) Mr. O’ , an intelli-
gent member of the church arose and
said, “ Brethren, I think we have been
in fault respecting our minister. I
think he is a young man of superior
talents, and will one day be a distin-
guished man. But we have not sus-
tained and encouraged him as we
should. We have not spoken of him to
others with esteem and confidence as
we should. IVe have been standing
and looking on, expecting him to raise
both himself and us to eminence.
Now let us adopt a different course.
Let us encourage our minister with our
prayers, our sympathies, and efforts.
Let us speak of him with esteem and
confidence to others, and say that we



think him a man of talent, and who
bids fair to be a distinguished man.”
The thing was agreed upon. The
leading men set the example. Very
seen every one was speaking in favor‘
of Mr. B His people visited him,
sympathized with him, encouraged him ;
and people out of the society began to
think how Mr. B was rising in the
estimation of his people. The young
man felt the change. The cold damp
chill by which he had been surrounded,
and which had benumbed the energies
of his soul, was exchanged for a warm
genial atmosphere. His spirits rose,
his health returned, his energies awoke,
and he soon showed to all that he had
within him the elements of a man. Sev-
eral revivals have attended his labors.
In the affections of the church and peo-
ple he has long since firmly established
himself. They delight in him as a man
of talent, as well as a good man. His
name has become honorably enrolled
among American authors, and he is one
whom his own church, and the church
es of New England delight to honor.
Reader, Christian, would you have a
good minister’.2 Go thou and do like-
wise.
(0) THE MINlSTER’S APPEAL.
-—A minister who was called to preach
probationally to a vacant congregation,
after sermon was addressed by the dea-
con of the church, an amiable man, as
follows :--“ Sir, I should have approved
your sermon highly had you closed it
without that address to sinners.” The
young preacher in reply said, “ Sir,I
cannot preach a sermon without doing
it.” He was, however, chosen pastor
of the church. Some time after, some
young persons giving an account of
their experience in order to their ad-
mission, one of them, the daughter of
the said deacon, publicly declared that
the Lord had been pleased to make that
address, which her father had so con-
demned, the means of her conversion.
She lived an ornament to her profession,
and died happy in the Lord. The good
deacon said, he should never more be
an enemy to the free call of the gospel.

82
497
967
MISERS.
\-_.___Qp-- -
267. MISERS.
(a) PRODIGAL TURNED MISER.
—-A young man, of vicious principles
and habits, wasted in two or three years
a large patrimony in profligacy. WVhen
his last means were exhausted, his
worthless associates, who called them-
selves his friends, treated him with ne-
glect. Reduced to absolute want, he
one day went out of the house with an
intention to put an end to his life ; but
wandering awhile almost unconsciously,
he came to the brow of an eminence
which overlooked what were lately his
estates. Here he sat down, and remain-
ed fixed in thought for some hours, at
the end of which he sprang from the
ground with a vehement exulting emo-
tion. He had formed his resolution,
which was, that all those estates should
be his again; he had formed his plan
too, which he instantly began to execute.
He walked hastily forward, determined
to seize the first opportunity to gain mo-
ney, though it were ever so small a sum,
and resolved not to spend, if he could
help it, a farthing of whatever he might
obtain. The first thing that drew his
attention was a heap of coals, shot out
of carts on the pavement before a house.
He offered himself to put them in the
place where they were to be laid, and
was employed. He received a few
pence for his labor; and then, in pur-
suance of the saving part of his plan,
requested some small gratuity of meat
and drink, which was given to him. He
then looked out for the next thing that
might offer, and went, with indefatigable
industry, through a succession of servile
employments in different places, of long-
er and shorter duration, still scrupulous-
ly avoiding, as far as possible, the’ ex-
pense of a penny. He promptly seized
every opportunity which could advance
his design, without regarding the mean-
ness of occupation or appearance. By
this method he gained, after a consider-
able time, money enough to purchase,
in order to sell again, a few cattle, of
which he had taken pains to understand
the value. He speedily but cautiously
turned his first gains into second advan-

tages ; retained without a single devia-
tion his extreme parsimony; and thus
advanced by degrees into larger trans-
actions and incipient wealth. The fin al
result was that he more than recovered
his lost possessions, and died an invete-
rate miser, worth sixty thousand pounds.
Happy would it have been for this indi-
vidual, if he had discovered the same
anxiety to recover the heavenly inheri-
tance he had lost, and had pursued it
with similar decision and perseverance.
(b) DANCER’S MODE OF LIVING
-—Daniel Dancer, Esq., was remarkal le
for a miserly disposition. Lady Tem-
pest was the only person who had the
least influence on this unfortunate man.
She had one day the pleasure of pre-
vailing on him to purchase a hat (hav-
ing worn his own for thirteen years)
from a Jew for a shilling; but, to her
great surprise, when she called the next
day, she saw the old chapeau still cover-
ed his head! On inquiry it was found
that, after much solicitation, he had
prevailed on old Griffiths, his servant,
to purchase the hat for eighteen pence,
which Mr. Dancer bought the day be-
fore for a shilling! He generally, in
severe weather, laid in bed to keep him-
self warm; to light a fire he thought
expensive, though he had 30001. per
annum, besides immense riches! He
never took snuff, for that was extrava-
gant, but he always carried a snuff box!
This probably he would fill in the course
of a month by pinches obtained from
others! When the box was full he
would barter the contents for a farthing
candle at a neighboring green grocer’s ;
this candle was made to last till the box
was again full, as he never suffered any
light in his house except while he was
going to bed. He seldom washed his
face and hands but when the sun shone
forth ; then he would betake himself to
a neighboring pool, and used sand in-
stead of soap ; when he was washed he
would lie on his back, and dry himself
in the sun, as he never used a towel,
for that would wear. and. when dirty,
the washing was expensive. Since his
498
MISERS.
26‘?
death there have been jugs of dollars
and shillings found in the stable. At
the dead of night he has been known to
go to this place, but for what purpose
even Old Grfflitlts could not tell; but it
now appears that he used to rob one jug
to add to the other.
(0) VANDILLE, THE FRENCH
MISER.—-M. Vandille was the most
remarkable man in Paris, both on ac-
count of his immense riches and his ex-
treme avarice. He lodged as high up
as the roof would admit, to avoid noise
or visits ; maintained one poor old wo-
man to attend him in his garret, and al-
lowed her only seven sous per week, or
a half-penny per day.
His usual diet was bread and milk ,
and, by way of indulgence, some poor
sour wine on a Sunday. This prudent
economist had been a magistrate or ofh-
cer at Boulogne, from which obscurity
he was promoted to Paris for the repu-
tation of his wealth, which he lent upon
undeniable security to the public funds,
not caring to trust individuals with what
constituted all his happiness. VVhile a
magistrate at Boulognc, he maintained
himself by taking upon him to be milk-
taster-general at the market, and from
one to another filled his belly and
washed down his bread without expense
to himself.
(at) DEATH OF A BANKER.-—
In December, 1790, died at Paris, liter-
ally of want, Mr. Ostervald, a well-
known banker. This man felt the vio-
lence of the disease of avarice (for sure-
ly it is rather a disease than a passion
of the mind) so strongly that, within a
few days of his death, no importunities
could induce him to buy a few pounds
of meat, for the purpose of making a
little soup for him. “’Tis true,” said
he, “I should not dislike the soup, butl
have no appetite for the meat; whatf
then, is to become of that '2” At the
time that he refused this nourishment,
for fear of being obliged to give away
two or three pounds of meat, there
was tied round his neck a silken
bag which contained 800 assignats of
1000 livres each. At his outset in life
he drank a pint of beer, which served
him for supper, every night at a house
much frequented, from which he carried

home all the bottle corks he could come
at: of these, in the course of eight
years, he had collected as many as
sold for 12 louis d’ors ; a sum that laid
the foundation of his fortune, the super.
structure of which was rapidly raised
by his uncommon success in stock-jol»
hing. He died possessed of 125/7001.
sterling.
(8) ECONOMY OF MR. ELW'ES.
——There have been few persons in whom
avarice has predominated more than in
the late Mr. Elwes. His mother, in-
deed, was excessively avaricious; and
though she was left nearly 100,000!.
by her husband, yet she absolutely
starved herself to death. Mr. Elwes
seemed not less wretched than his moth-
er. At his house at Stoke, in Suffolk,
if a window were broken, it was mend-
ed by a piece of brown paper, or by
patching it with a small bit of glass;
and this had been done so frequently,
and in so many shapes, that it would
have puzzled a mathematician to say
what figure they represented. To save
fire, he would walk about the remains of
an old greenhouse, or sit with a servant
in the kitchen ! In the advance of the sea-
son his morning employment was to pick
up chips, bones, or any thing he could
find, and carry them home in his pocket
for fire! One day he was surprised
by a neighboring gentleman in the act
of pulling down, with great dilliculty,
a crow’s nest for this purpose ; and
when the gentleman wondered why he
should give himself so much trouble,
“ Oh, sir,” replied Elwes, “it is really
a shame that these creatures should do
so; do but see what waste they make.
They don’t care how extravagant they
are. ’ He would almost eat any thing
to save expense. At a time when he
was worth eight hundred thousand
pounds, he would eat game at the last
state of putrefaction, and meat that no
other person could touch! As to his
dress, any thing would do. He wore a
wig for a fortnight which he had picked
up in a rut in the lane when riding with
another gentleman. His shoes he never
suffered to be cleaned, lest they should
be worn\ out the sooner. As the infirmi
ties of old age, however, came upon
him, he began to be more wretched. It
499
267’
MISERS.
is said that he was heard frequently at
midnight as if struggling with some one
in his chamber, and crying out, “I will
keep my money ; nobody shall rob me
of my property.” There are many
other remarkable circumstances related
of him, but what we have already quot-
ed will afford a striking proof of the va-
nity of sublunary things, and of the
insufliciency of riches to render man-
kind happy.
ff) QUARRELING ABOUT A
FARTHING.—Sir Harvey Elwes, the
miser, notwithstanding his dislike of so-
ciety, was a member of a club which
occasionally met at his own village of
Stoke, and to which belonged two other
baronets besides himself, Sir Cordwell
Firebras and Sir John Barnardiston.
\Vith these three, though all rich, the
reckoning was always a subject of the
minutest investigation. One day, when
they were engaged in settling this diffi-
cult point, a wag, who was a member,
called out to a friend that was passing,
“Step up stairs and assist the poor!
Here are three baronets, worth a mil-
lion of money, quarreling about a far-
thin .”
lg) THE PETERSBURGH MISER.
--A Russian merchant, who was so im-
mensely rich that on one occasion he
lent the Empress Catharine the Second
a million of rubles, used to live in a
small, obscure room at St. Petersburgh,
with scarcely any fire, furniture, or at-
tendants, though his house was larger
than man j’ palaces. He buried his
money in casks in the cellar, and was
so great a miser that he barely allowed
himself the common necessaries of life.
He placed his principal security in a
large dog of singular fierceness, which
used to protect he premises by barking
nearly the whole of the night. At
1ength the dog died ; when the master,
either impelled by his avarice from
buying another dog, or fearing that he
might not meet with one that he could
so well depend on, adopted the singular
method of performing the canine serviee
himself, by going his rounds every
evening, and barking as wall and as
loud as he con (1, in imitation of his
faithful sentinel.
.a ~‘
(h) MISER STARVED IN HIS
CAVE.——In the year 1762, an extra-
ordinary instance of avarice and pecu-
lation occurred in France. M. Foscue,
one of the farmers-general of the pro-
vince of Languedoc, had amassed an
immense fortune by grinding the faces of
the poor, and by every means, however
base and cruel, that could increase his ill-
gotten store. This man was ordered
by the government to advance a con-
siderable sum of money, but excused
himself from complying with the order
on the plea of poverty. Fearing, how-
ever, that some of the inhabitants of the
province, among whom he was very
unpopular, would give information to
the contrary, and his house he in con-
sequence searched, he determined to
hide his money in a way which might
elude examination. He dug in his wine-
cellar a cave, large and deep, into which
he descended by a ladder; at the en-
trance of which was a spring lock, which,
on shutting the door, would fasten of it-
self. Soon after this M. Foscue dis-
appeared. Diligent search was made
for him; the ponds were dragged ; and
every imaginable method taken to find
him, but in vain. A few months after
the house was sold ; and the workmen
beginning to repair it, they discovered
a door in the cellar, with a key in the
lock. The owner ordered it to be open-
ed, and on going down, they discovered
M. F. lying dead on the ground, with a
candlestick near him ; and on a farther
search, they found the vast wealth he
had amassed. It was supposed, that
when he went into his cave, the door,
by some accident, shut after him; and
thus, being out of the call of any per-
son, he perished for want of food, and
had even gnawed the flesh off both his
arms for subsistence.
Such was the wretched end of tnis
oppressive miser, who died in the midst
of the immense treasure he had collect-
ed, which he neither enjoyed himself,
nor would bestow on others. How
worthless are the riches of the world if
improperly used I What is their value
without the favor of Gcd accompanying
them '2
500
MISSIONS.
268
MISSIONS.
NEED OF MISSIONS.
268. Igneranee of the Heathen
’a) SUPERSTITION OF THE
UH NESE.—On the 13th of May,
1818, a storm suddenly arose at Pekin,
which darkened the heavens, and filled
the air With sand and dust. The Em-
peror was excessively alarmed, con-
ceiving it to be a divine judgment. Anx-
ious to know the meaning of the por-
tentous event, he required of his min-
isters of state to endeavor to ascertain
the cause. In a public document, he
reprimanded his astronomers for not
having previously informed him when
the hurricane was to take place: they
had but three days before stated to him,
that felicitous stars shed their happy in-
fluence around his person, and indicated
long life and prosperity.
The Mathematical Board presented
their opinion, and affirmed that if this
kind of hurricane, accompanied by a
descent of dust, continued a whole day,
it indicated perverse behavior and dis-
cordant counsels between the sovereign
and his ministers; and also a great
drought and dearness of grain. If the
wind should blow up the sand, move the
stones, and be accompanied with noise,
inundations were to be expected. If
the descent of dust should continue but
an hour, pestilence may be ex ected
in the southwest regions, and ha f the
population will be diseased in the south-
east.
(12) THE THREE CRIMINALS.
--It is perfectly natural to suppose that
those who have little or no knowledge
of a future state, should be careless of
that life which God has given, during
which to prepare for another world. A
crimina- among the Hindoos being con-
demned to be hanged on the following
day, made a low salaam, or bow, to the
judge, and coolly replied, Buhost atcha,
“ Very good.” Another, when asked
if there was any thing which he par-
.icular1y wished before leaving the
world, answered, “Yes; I never saw
a great heap of rupees together; and,

of all things, I should like to have that
pleasure before I die.” A third, when
the same question was addressed to him,
longed for something more substantial.
He said, “Your food is much better
than mine 5 now, before you hang me,
pray give me such a good dinner as you
have.” The indulgence was granted,
and he ate with no _rnall appetite.
What should be the gratitude of those
who have been taught the true end of
life, and what zeal should Christians
manifest in conveying this knowledge
to others I
(0) HERE WE ARE LIKE BIRDS
OF PASSAGE:-“ It is stated in the
history of England,” says Dr. Philip,
in an address delivered at one of the
London Anniversaries, “ that when the
first missionary who arrived in Kent,
presented himself before the king, to so-
licit permission to preach the gospel in
his dominions, after long deliberation,
when a negative was about to be put
upon his application, an aged counsel-
lor, with his head silvered over with
gray hairs, rose, and by the following
speech obtained the permission which
was requested. ‘ Here we are,’ said the
orator, ‘ like birds of passage, we know
not whence we come, or whither we are
going ; if this man can tell us, for God’s
sake let him speak.’ I say, if there are
six hundred millions of our fellow-crew
tures, who, like birds of passage, know
not whence they came, nor whither
they are going, for God’s sake let us
send them the gospel, which will tell
them whence they came, and which is
able to make them wise unto salva-
tion.”
((1) I/VHERE SHALL I GO LAST
OF ALL ’?—-A Hindoo, of a thoughtful,
reflecting turn of mind, but devoted to
idolatry, lay on his death-bed. As he
saw himself about to plunge into that
boundless unknown, he cried out,
“VVhat will become of me ?” “O.”
said a brahmin, who stood by, “you
will inhabit another body.” “And
where” said he, “shall I go then ?”
“Into another.” “And where then,”
501
268,269
MISSIONS.
“ Into another, and so on, through then-
sands of millions.” Darting across this
whole period as though it were but an
instant, he cried, “ VVhere shall I go
then ’?” Paganism could not answer,
and he died agonizing under the inquiry,
“ \\ here shall I go last of all '2”
(6) THE MIND AND THE
IlEART.——It is a very instructive fact,
that under the highest efforts of reason
in other matters, the human mind has
been satisfied with the most childish and
absurd notions on the subject of religion.
The men who erected the pyramids and
left behind them these architectural mo-
numents which still excite the admira-
tion of the world, cherished with all
their intellectual grandeur the most
puerile and degrading notions on the
subject of religion. Think of the men
who planned and erected the pyramids
worshiping cats and onions I
The Phenicians, who claimed the
glory of the invention of letters, “and
the knowledge of military and naval
arts,” were accustomed when attacked
by enemies, to chain the images of their
gods to their altars that they might not
abandon their city ! The men who had
in their hands the letters and commerce
of the world, worshiped gods which
they felt themselves obliged to tie up
with chains, lest they should run away
through fear! The statesmen, and ora-
tors. and poets of ancient Rome, are even
now read in the highest schools of
Christendom; but think of Cicero and
Tacitus and Augustus Caesar looking
into the entrails of a sheep, or watching
the flight of birds, to propitiate the gods,
or predict the result of a military cam-
paign I This contrast between the mind
and the heart becomes more striking
when we look at distinguished indivi-
duals. Plutarch thought that our souls
were made out of the moon, and would
therefore return to it. This elegant and
discriminating writer of ancient biogra-
phy, gravely tells us, “ that some think
the inhabitants of the moon hang by the
head to it, or, like Ixion, are tied fast
to it, that its motions may not shake
them from it; and it ought not to seem
surprising that a lion fell out of it, into
the Peloponnesus.” Even the wise
Plato thought the stars required and re-

u—--__ _M_--- I
ceived nourishment. Srncca Was of
the same opinion, who says, “ hence
it is that so many stars are maintained ,
as eager for their pasture as they are
ha"d worked both by day and night.”
This contrast between the mind and
the heart is certainly one of the most
striking anomalies in human nature.
Do we not behold the same anomaly at
the presen: day? Does men’s know-
ledge of religious things keep pace with
their general improvement? How of-
ten are the most penetrating genius and
the largest acquisitions associated with
religions opinions that are grossly incor-
rect and miserably low. What a prac-
tical comment is here given us upon the
inspired declaration, “ They did not
like to retain God in their knowledge.”
Q69. Idolatry.
(a) IDOLATERS CAN WOR.
SHIP ANY THIN G.—-At Baitenzorg,
a village of Java, Messrs. Tyerman and
Bennet observed a street occupied ex
clusively by Chinese. They called at
several of the houses and noticed an
idol in each. In one, they observed an
engraving of the French Emperor Na-
poleon, in a gilt frame, before which in-
cense was burning. The old man, to
whom the picture belonged, in their pre-
sence, paid it divine honors, bowing him-
self in various antic attitudes, and offer-
ing a prayer for blessings upon himself
and family. VVhen we asked him why
he worshiped an European engraving,
he replied, “ O, we worship any
thing.”
(Z2) A MECHANlC’S ADVER-
TISEMENT.—-The following adver-
tisement is copied from a Chinese news-
paper :——“ Achen Tea Chinchin, sculp-
tor, respectfully acquaints masters
of ships, trading from Canton to India,
that they may be furnished with figure
heads of any size, according to order,
at one-fourth of the price charged in
Europe. He also recommends for pri-
vate venture, the following idols, brass,
gold, and silver : The hawk of Vishnoo,
which has reliefs of his incarnation in a
fish, boar, lion, and turtle. An Egyp-
tian apis, a golden calf and bull, as wor-
shiped by the pious followers of Zoroas
502
IDOL ATRY.
269
f —-
ter. Two silver mammosits, with gold-
en ear-rings ; an aprimanes for Persian
worship ' a ram, an alligator, a crab, a
laughing Hyena, with a variety of house-
hold gods on a small scale, calculated
for family worship. Eighteen months’
credit will be given, or a discount of 15
per cent. for prompt payment of the sum
affixed to each article. Direct China
Street, Canton, under the Marble Rhi-
noceros and Gilt Hydra.”
(c) A LITTLE HEATHEN BOY
AND HIS SISTERS.——“ I‘ was much
affected,” says the Rev. Mr. French, a
missionary amcng the Mahrattas, in
India, “ by the following incident which
occurred in the temple at Pimpulwum
dee. A little boy, about ten years of
age, accompanied by two girls smaller
than himself, his sisters probably, came
to pay their devotions. The little boy,
in a state of almost entire nudity, first
washed the idol with water, and then
put a little red paint on its forehead,
shoulders, and breasts. This being
done, he took from the little girl some
small flowers, which he laid in various
places on the idol ; and, to crown all,
he threw, after several ineffectual at-
tempts, the idol being taller than him-
self, a string of flowers over its head.
Having finished this part of the cere-
mony, the three pitiable little creatures
commenced circumambulating and bow-
ing to the senseless object which they
had thus early been taught to regard as
their god. I was much affected, I say,
in witnessing this scene, and was led to
reflect how different are the circum-
stances and prospects of the dear chil-
dren of my native land. There the in-
fant mind is trained in the principles of
virtue and salvation. Here it is initiat-
ed into the mysteries of iniquity, and
swallowed up in the darkness and su-
perstition of idolatry. But it is a bless-
ed thought, to be apprehended only by
faith, however, that the infants of India,
shall one day speak forth the praises of
Immanuel. The Lord hasten that day
in his own good time.”
Heathen parents take their very
young children to the temple of one idol
and teach them how to bow and kneel,
and wash, and paint, and perform the

other ceremonies which are required in
the worship of that idol. At another
time they take them to the temple of
another idol and teach them how to
worship that, and so on through all the
multitude of their idols ; and thus they
train their children up to all the wicked-
ness and folly of idol worship.
((1) FESTIVAL OF JUGGER-
N AUT.—A respectable writer gives
the following description of the festival
of Juggernaut :—
Loud were the shouts of triumph which
greeted our ears as we approached the
temple of Juggernaut. Immense were
the multitudes that thror»gcd around,
and thousands upon thousands would
no more have been missed than a single
grain from a handful of the finest sand.
In a few minutes’ space, we stood in
front of the idol, raised upon its enor-
mous car, and surrounded by a whole
host of priests and devotees.
The first sensations which I experi-
enced, on approaching it, were those of
horror and disgust ; but, alas! how
were these sensations in a tenfold de-
gree increased before the ceremonies of
that day were past. The car, or tower,
on which the idol was raised, stood at
the height of many feet above the
ground. Its sides were adorned with
massive and enduring sculpture, repre-
senting the most lascivious forms and
images which the mind of the wicked
could suggest. The platform on the
top was graced with an innumerable
crowd of monsters, half-man, half-beast,
in every variety and shape ; and in the
midst of these, the idol itself, a huge
misshapen block of wood, was placed.
Its visage was painted black, its mouth
was of a bloody color, its arms were of
gold, and its apparel was of the richest
and most variegated colored silk. There
it sat, in horrid, horrid listlessness, upon
its elevated throne, while the priests and
their assistants bowed themselves before
it, and, with the most indecent attitudes
and gestures, sought to propitiate its fa-
vor and its grace. Loud and long were
the shouts of the multitude, as men, we-
men, and children, all pressed forward,
to lay, if it might be, even a finger upon
the ropes that dragged the stupendms
503
270
MISSIONS.
.-—-
..._-¢ .-_ -. - --' __--__-_ .- -_--“ -__ _.. .-
car. Many were the worn-out and
travel -soiled pilgrims who were crushed
‘.0 death in the vain and empty struggle ;
but loud were the plaudits which they
who died received, and a smile remain-
ed upon their countenances even in the
bitter hour of death.
At length the idol moved. The
enormous wheels, upon which it was
supported, creaked and groaned beneath
its weight, and the deeply indented
ground showed the immensity of the
oressure that rolled along its surface.
In a short space it stopped, and then
the worship of the god commenced.
The chief priest advanced, and with
many a low sal_aam began to recite a
long roll of obscene and indecent verses.
“ These are the songs,” he exclaimed,
“with which the god is delighted. It
is but when he is pleased that his car
will move.” Accordingly it did move
a few paces in advance, when again it
stopped, and anon a youthful being was
brought forward, to attempt, if it might
be, something still more lascivious, to
propitiate his god. He began to caper
—-but I cannot, I will not, carry on the
horrible description. Fancy cannot
picture, the imagination cannot con-
ceive the abominations of this worship.
I turned away, in sickness of heart, and
in utter loathing and disgust, from the
sight; but a loud and renewed shout
fell upon my ear, and involuntarily I
turned round and saw an emaciated and
worn-out pilgrim, with a kind of super-
natural strength, and a wild devotion
gleaming in his eyes, force his way
through the surrounding crowd, and
prostrate himself on his face in the very
course of the terrific car, and, with out-
stretched arms and legs, await unmoved
the consummation of his fate. On roll-
ed the ponderous wheels, and ere a mi-
nute had elapsed, the misguided wretch
lay crushed, dismembered, broken, a
shapeless mass of flesh, and scarcely to
be distinguished from the dust amongst
which he was almost concealed from
sight. Loud songs of praise accompa-
nied this act of self-devotion, for the
multitude believed that the victim would
be received as a favored child by Jug-
gernaut, and recalled into life in a state
of everlasting happiness and joy. -
0-— ....\_-u
t70. Human Sacrifices.‘ ,
(a) HUMAN SACRIFCES IN AN
CIENT BRITAIN.—Maurice, in his
“Indian Antiquities,” refers thus to the
worship practised by the British Druids.
The pen of history trembles to relate
the baleful orgies which their fiantic
superstition celebrated, when, inciosing
men, women and children in one vast
wicker image, in the form of a man, and
filling it with every kind of combusti-
bles, they set fire to the huge colossus.
While the dreadful holocaust was offer-
ing to their sanguinary gods, the groans
and shrieks of the consuming victims
were drowned amidst shouts of barbar-
ous triumph, and the air was rent, as in
the Syrian temple of old, with martial
music. Religion shudders at such a per-
version of its names and rites, humanity
turns with horror from the guilty scene.
Such were our ancestors. To us
much has been given, and of us much
will be required.
(Z2) HUMAN SACRIFICES AT
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS.-
Mr. Ellis was informed by the inhabi-
tants of Maeva, that the foundation of
some of the buildings for the abode of
their gods was actually laid in human
sacrifices: that every pillar supporting
the roof of one of the sacred houses at
Maeva, was planted upon the body of a
man who had been offered as a victim
to the sanguinary deity for whom the
temple was erected. The unhappy
wretches selected were either captives
taken in war, or individuals who had
rendered themselves obnoxious to the
chiefs or the riests.
(0) I-IABITATIONS OF CRUEL-
TY.-—Says Mr. Campbell, for twelve
years a missionary in India——-
“The human sacrifices which Hin.
dooism demands, are frightful and ap-
palling. Whatever may be the charac-
ter of the people, and however quiet, and
passive, and submissive they appear,
their superstition is the most cruel and
barbarous that has ever been establish-
ed. In Goomsoor, a province which
has lately fallen into the hands of the
British, the horrid scenes which have
been discovered, are almost beyond cre-
dibility. Whenever a disease raged in
504
SELF-TORTURE AND SELF -MURDER.

I’ .---0-
270, 271

the family of the monarch, a human sa-
crifice was demanded to appease the of-
fended deity, and nothing less precious
than the life of an only son would gra-
tify the demon. Immured in houses
and in dungeons, there were found hun-
dreds of poor children who had been
stolen from the adjoining territories;
and for what purpose were they con-
cealed and preserved? that they might
be fattened like so many sheep and oxen
for the slaughter, and might, at a suit-
able season, be offered up to the Moloch
of the country.
“At the seed-time, the farmers of a
district would assemble together; a hu-
man victim was selected, was bound as
a sacrifice to the altar, and was devoted
to the most barbarous death. "While
the priests proclaim the omens to be
propitious, one farmer would come, and
with a large knife, would take a slice
from the victim, would carry it away
to his field, and would press the blood
out of it while it was yet warm, and then
bury it in the earth. A second, and a
third, and a fourth, would come and act
a similar pa'rt, till the wretched man was
sliced in pieces while he was yet alive,
and was consigned to various parts of
the ground. But why this barbarity?
That the favor of Maree might be ob-
tained, and that no curse, nor blight
might rest upon their land ; and that a
richer harvest might arise from fields
watered by the blood of sacrifices. Oh 1
these dark places of the earth are still
full of the habitations of cruelty.
“Deeds of blood and atrocity are
mixed up with the habits and customs
of the people, and fail to produce any
great sensation. In England, if a mo-
ther strangles her infant, if a father
murders his son, if a brother puts a sis-
ter to death, a thrill of horror passes
through the community, the PLIDIIL
voice is lifted up, in loud and terrible
denunciations, against such a diabolical
act ; and the wonder is expressed how
such a monster is permitted to live. But
in India, such deeds are so common that
they have failed to make any impres-
sion upon the community, and are oflzeu
regarded by their authors as actions of
merit rather than 0 ‘ infamy.”
(CZ) HUMAN SACRIFICES IN
AF RICA.-—The Ashantees sacrifice
human victims, to the number of one
hundred, at all their great festivals,
some of which occur every twenty-one
days. On the death of his mother, the
king offered three thousand victims,
and at the death of a distinguished cap-
tain, twenty-four hundred. At the fu-
neral of a person of rank, it is usual to
wet the grave by the blood of a free-
man, who is slaughtered unsuspectingly,
while assisting in the funeral rites, and
rolled into the grave with the corpse.
A regular correspondence is supposed
by them to be kept up with the invisible
world. Hence the king, wishing to
send to any of his deceased friends, calls
a servant, delivers to him a message,
and kills him that he may carry it.
Then, if he wishes to make any addi-
tion to the message, he calls another
slave, and treats him in like manner;
and all with the same indifference with
which one of us would write a letter
and add a postscript.
Q71. Self-Torture and Self-Murder.
(a) DEVOTEES OF JUGGER-
N AUT.——The facts below are gleaned
from Dr. Duff ’s work on India, and
from the organs of missionary societies.
Many of the pilgrims to Juggernaut,
from the most distant parts of India,
measure the whole distance of their
weary pilgrimage with their own bodies
on the ground. Some remain all day
with their heads on the ground and their
feet in the air, some cram their eyes
with mud and their mouths with straw.
One man may be seen lying with his
foot tied to his neck, another with a pot
of fire on his breast, and a third envel-
oped in a net of ropes. At the festival
of Charak Pujah, so called, because
then is endured the torture of book
swinging so well known, many of the
devotees throw themselves down from
the top of a high wall, or a scaffold
twenty feet high, on iron spikes or
knives, that are so thickly stuck in a
large bag of straw. At night, num-
bers of the devotees sit down in the
open air, pierce the skin of their fore-

iheads, insert a small red of iron, to
505
271
MISSIONS.
which is suspended a lamp, which is
kept burning until the morning dawn.
Some have their breasts and arms stuck
entirely full of pins, about the thickness
of packing needles. Others tie them-
selves to a wheel, thirty feet in diame-
ter, and raised considerably above the
ground-—when the wheel turns round,
their heads point alternately to the ze-
nith and the nadir—others cover their
under lip with a layer of mud, and de-
posit upon it some small grains, usually
of mustard seed, then stretch themselves
flat on their backs, exposed to the drip-
ping dews by night and the blazing sun
by day. Their vow is, that they will
not stir from that position, nor turn, nor
move, nor eat nor drink, till the seeds
planted begin to sprout; this generally
takes place on the third or fourth day.
On the day of the great Charak festival,
several blacksmiths are stationed in the
court of the temple, with sharp instru-
ments in their hands. When the pro-
cession reaches the temple, a class of
devotees, holding in their hands rods,
canes, iron spits, or tubes, approach the
blacksmiths. One extends his side, it
is instantly pierced through, and in pass-
es one of his rods or canes ; another ex-
tends his arm, this is perforated, and in
passes his iron spit; a third protrudes
his tongue, and getting it bored through,
he passes in a cord or serpent! These
devotees may be seen, in the midst of
loud, discordant sounds and frantic dan-
ces. pulling backward and forward,
through their wounded members, the
rods and the canes, the spits and the
tubes, the cords and the writhing ser-
pents, till their bodies seem streaming
with their own blood I
(b) SWINGING ON HOOKS.-
Among the Hindoos, particular villages
are appropriated for swinging, where
the natives assemble at stated seasons.
In the centre of an area, surrounded by
numerous spectators, a pole from twen-
ty to .hirty feet in height is erected, on
which is placed a long horizontal beam,
with a rope run over a pulley at the ex-
tremity. To this rope they fix an iron
hook, which, being drawn through the
integuments of the foot, the swinger is
suspended aloft in the air, amidst the ac-
clamations of the multitude ; the longer

‘I
he is able to bear this painful exertion
and the more violently he swings him
self round, the greater is the supposed
merit. From the flesh giving way, the
performer sometimes falls from his tow-
ering height, and breaks a limb; if he
escapes that accident, from the usual
temperance of the Hindoos, the wound
soon heals. This penance is generally
voluntary, and done from supposed re-
ligious motives. ‘Who on reading such
descriptions, does not pray that a purer
system of faith and morals may soon
pervade these vast and populous regions!
A HINDOO DEVOTEE.—A
Brahmin from the north, says a mission-
ary, has visited these parts, and is now
on his way to Cape Comorin, if he has
not already reached it. He rolls him-
self over and over on the bare ground,
about three or four miles each day, on
his way to the above mentioned place;
and it is said that he has traveled in this
manner all the way from Benares, in
doing which he has consumed nine years
and three months. He sets out at dawn,
with thick cloths tied round his body
and temples; and having reached the
village fixed upon, he performs his de-
votions, and spends the rest of the day
with his family, who travel with him in
bullock-carts. He is fanned as he rolls
along, by his son, a youth of ten or
twelve years of age; while the musi-
cians of the village which he leaves, or
of that to which he is going, accompany
him with music and shouting; thou-
sands of people gazing with admiration
upon his progress, and applauding him
as “ a great soul,” a most religious man.
When he comes to a tank or river, or
other places which he cannot cross by
rolling on the ground, he walks through
them ; and on the other side rolls the
same distance along the bank, and back
again. When he reaches Cape Como-
rin he is to set a plantain, and wait there
till he offers the fruit of it to the deity
whom he worships ; after which, they
say, he is to re . back again to Benares,
on the other sin 9 of the Ghauts. He is
a stout man, of about forty years of age,
and is said to be not much injured by
his devoteeism. The act, instead of be-
ing regarded as a waste of time and la-
bor, is praised by the Hindoos general-
506
SELF-TORTURE AND SELF- MURDER.
27!
ly, as an evidence of the highest wis-
dom and magnanimity 5 and yet some
of them, enlightened probably by Chris-
tianity, regard it as folly; unless, in-
deed, which is not certain, he derives a
splendid profit from it in the otferintrs of
the people. Certain it is that his ami_
ly maintain a most respectable appear-
ance; but it is said that he was a man
of property before he set out on his
strange pilgrimage.
(cf BORING THE TONGUE.-—At
Chinsurah, in the East Indies, there is
a famous place of resort, called Suraia
horlollah, or the residence of the Bull-
god. This is a square area, on which,
beneath the shade of one vast banyan
tree, several temples stand, dedicated to
several popular idols, to accommodate
all classes of comers. Here many self-
inflicted or self-chosen cruelties are
practised by those who thus hope to
merit a place in the Hindoo heaven. A
favorite penance is to have the tongue
bored through with a large iron spike.
A blacksmith is the operator, who is
said to be very skillful both in driving a
nail and driving a bargain. It some-
times happens that the candidates for
this piece of service at his hands are so
numerous and impatient, that they are
obliged to submit to be arranged in or-
der as they arrive, and wait till each in
his turn can be gratified with a wound
in the unruly member, which they use,
meanwhile, with no small eloquence, to
induce him to hasten to their relief, and
when he is come, to get the business
done as cheaply as they can. The
shrewd knave, however, is wise enough
to take his time, and extort a larger or
a smaller fee, according to the number,
rank, or fanaticism of his customers.
(f) SUFFERINGS OF A HIN-
DOO DEVOTEE.—-A missionary thus
describes a singular ease of selfltorture.
The devotee was in the act of measur-
ing his way to Juggernaut by his own
body. He never rose upon his feet in
traveling. When on his knees, he
reached his hands forward to the
ground, and thus drew his body on-
ward. Every time he drew himself
along thus, he beat his Forehead against
the ground three times, looking towards
the temple, which was now in sight.

“When I got sufficiently near,” said
the missionary, “I called to him ; but
he did not appear to hear what I said,
and continued on his way without pay-
ing the least attention. I therefore came
up, and succeeded in stopping him; a
deep melancholy sat visible upon his
countenance, his lips moving in prayer
to his god in a low, grumbling tone of
voice. When I had surveyed him a
few moments, he gave over repeating,
and I began to converse With him as
well as I was able. I first inquired
how far he had come in that manner?
He answered, seven hundred and fifty
miles. How long have you been on the
way? About eight months. He ap-
peared about twenty-one years of age,
and was so emaciated by his austerities
that his voice was nearly gone: Icould
but just understand him. I asked him
what he expected from this visit to J ug-
gernaut'.2 I was told that he expected
almost every thing, particularly that
hereby he should get rid of his sins. I
then told him about Jesus Christ dying
for his sins, and that if he would only
believe on Christ, he would immediately
find the blessings he sought. He seem.
ed to hear with some attention and sur.
prise. By this time a number of wick-
ed looking Brahmins, from a neighbor-
ing temple, were gathered around us,
and began to encourage him to proceed.”
(g) THE FAKEER AND HIS BED
OF SPIKES.--The following account
of a Hindoo Fakeer, named Purrum
Soatuntro, is given by Mr. Duncan, an
English gentleman, who saw him at
Benares, a large city in India.
When only ten years of age, this man
began a life of self-mortification, and
used to lie on thorns and pebbles. He
went on thus for ten years, and then be-
gan to wander about as a fakeer (reli-
gious beggar), going from one of their
pretended holy places to another. At
one place he shut himself up in a cell,
where he vowed to do penance for twelve
years. There he stayed till vermin
gnawed his flesh, and left marks which
remained when Mr. Duncan saw him.
At the end of a year, the R‘Ct_]€Ll], or
chief of’ that country, taking pity on
him, opened the door of his cell, hoping
to persuade him to leave ofi' tormenting
507
272
MISSIONS.

p‘----_--_ _-
himself ; but t_1e poor wretch was full
of fury to be thus interrupted; and told
the Rajah that he should have his curse
on his head, (and all the Hindoos dread
th¢ curses of these men,) for breaking
in upon him. VVhat ! Did he think that
he Was not above such sufferings as
these I They were nothing to him!
Let the Rajah get him a bed of spikes,
that he might lie on it night and day,
and show him what he was able to do,
and then perhaps he might forgive him.
Rajah, frightened at the thought of the
curse of this ferocious man lighting on
him, get him a bed of spikes; and this
bed of spikes became a sort of triumphal
car for the wretcheo man. He set out
immediately to take veiy long journeys ;
and .was drawn on this horrid bed all
round the country for thousands of miles,
the poor people every where worship-
ing him as a sort of god. He traveled
about in this manner for thirty-five
years! Having no longer, as he said,
any inclination to roam, he wished to
spend the rest of his days in Benares.
But this poor man was so blinded by
the prince of the power of darkness,
that he was not contented with the sup-
posed merit of his self-torture on the
bed of spikes, but he tried to put him-
self to greater pain. He boasted to
Mr. Duncan, that he had caused water
to fall on his head, night and day, in the
cold season, from a pot with holes in it,
placed over him, drop by drop, so that
he might be constantly uneasy ; and,
when the hot weather came, he morti-
fied himself in an opposite manner, by
causing logs of wood to be kept burn-
ing around him, to make his sufferings
from the heat greater!
Q72. Infanticida
(a) INFANTICIDE IN PEKIN.-_
In the imperial city, after allowing more
than one half for natural deaths, the
number of exposed infants is, according
to Barrow, about four thousand a year.
Some of the scenes he witnessed while
at Pekin, were almost incredible. Be-
fore the carts go around in the morning
to pick up the bodies of infants thrown
in the streets-—amounting to about four
Ind twenty every night--dogs and swine

are let loose upon them. The bodies
of those found are carried to a common
pit without the city walls, in which the
living and the dead are thrown togeth-
er. This, however, is a small propor-
tion, compared with other places. In
some provinces not one out of three is
suffered to live.
(b) THE CHILDLESS CHIEF.--
On one occasion, at Raiatea, one of the
Society Islands, six hundred children
were assembled. A feast was prepared
for them ; they marched through the set-
tlement in procession, dressed in Europe-
an garments, with little hats and bonnets
made by those very parents who would
have destroyed them had not the gospel
come to their rescue. They and their
parents occupied the chapel. The ap-
pearance of the parents was most affect-
ing. The eyes of some were beaming
with delight, as the father said to the
mother, “What a mercy it is that we
spared our dear girl.” Bitter tears roll-
ing down the saddened countenances of
others, told the painful tale that all their
children were destroyed. A venerable
chief, gray with age, could bear the
scene no longer; he arose, and with an
impassioned look and manner exclaim-
ed, “ Let me speak; I must speak. Oh
that I had known that the gospel was
coming, my children would have been
among this happy group; but alas! I
destroyed them all. I have not one left.
I shall die childless, though I have been
the father of nineteen children.” Sit-
ting down, he gave vent to his agonizer1
feelings in a flood of tears.
(0) A BRUTAL FATHER.-—Mr.
Ellis, in his Missionary Tour, relates
the following shocking instance of in-
fanticide. A man and his wife, tenants
of Mr. Young, who has for many years
held, under the king, the small district
of Kukuwaw, situated on the centre of
Waiakea bay, resided not far from
Maaro’s nouse. They had one child, a
fine lit .le boy. A quarrel arose be-
tween them on one occasion respecting
this child. The wife refusing to accede
to the wishes of the husband, he, in re-
venge, caught up the child by the head
and the feet, broke its back across his
knee, and then threw it down in expir-
ing agonies before her. Struck with
508
CRUELTY'NDPARENTS
272, 273

—_
the atrocity of the act, Mr. Young seiz-
ed the man, led him before the king
Tamehameha, who was then at Waia-
kea, and requested that he might be
punished. The king inquired, “ To
whom did the child he has murdered
belong?” Mr. Young answered, that
it Was his own son. “ Then,” said the
king, “neither you nor I have any right
to interfere; I cannot say any thing to
him.”
(cl) THE RA.lAH’S DAUGHTER.
—The wife of a rajah, or native prince
of India, had five little girls, who were
put to death as soon as they were born,
by order of their cruel father. When
the sixth was born, the mother began to
long very much to have a daughter to love,
and she managed to get a servant to
take it away, without the rajah knowing
any thing about it. He thought that
the sixth had been put to death like the
rest. The poor mother never dared to
send for her little girl. She never saw
her again, and died soon after.
Many of the little girls in India are
very pretty ; they have bright dark
eyes, and sweet expressive countenan-
ces. This little child grew up a very
beautiful girl, and when she was eleven
years old, some of her relatives ventur-
ed to bring her to her father. They
thought that he would be struck with
the sight of his sweet child, and that he
Would love her for the sake of her moth-
er who had died. The little girl fell at
his feet, and clasped his knees, and
looked up in his face, and said, “My
father!” What did that father do’.Z
Take her in his arms and kiss her’.2
No! He seized her by the hair of her
head, drew his sabre from his belt, and
cut off her head at one blow.
Q73. Cruelty to Parents.
(a) CRUELTY TOWARDS THE
INFIRM, AMONG SOUTH SEA IS-
LANDERS.--Before the introduction
of Christianity to their islands, the na-
tives often proved themselves destitute
of natural affection in their treatment
of the infirm. Sometimes the unhappy
invalid was buried alive. VV hen this
was designed, a pit was dug, bathing
Was proposed to the sufferer, and the

attendents proffered their services to
convey him to the beach. Instead.
however, of showing him this kindness,
they bore him to the pit, and cast him
in. Stones and dirt Were hurried into
the grave, to stifle the voice of the im-
happy man. The work of murder was
soon performed, and the relatives re-
turned to their dwellings, thankful to
obtain relief, by this me.hod, from the
cares which humanity enjoins. Some-
times the invalid was destroyed in a
more summary manner. Having called
out all the visitors, the friends or com-
panions of the sick man armed them-
selves with spears, and prepared for
their savage work. It was in vain that
the helpless invalid cried for mercy.
So far from being moved by his entrea.
ties, they would amuse themselves with
deliberate cruelty, by trying to surpass
each other in throwing the spear with
dexterity at the miserable suppliant, or
rushing upon him, they would transfix
him to the couch. So true is it that
“the dark places of the earth are full of
the hahitations of cruelty.”
(b) THE CONTRAST.—The se.
cond evening after we arrived, says
Rev. J . Read, missionary to South Af-
rica, we heard late in the evening that
an old man and his wife had been car-
ried away by their friends to the top of
a precipice, and there left to die from
hunger and cold. Early next mormng
I went to Pala, to request permission to
try and save them. Nothing in the
world could surprise him so much: he
said, their friends had nothing to give
them, and there was a law that such
persons should not die in one of their
houses, nor near the kraal ; otherwise
the whole neighborhood must break up
and leave. He said there was no
objection to our sending them food, but
he could not allow them to he brought
to the kraal. The next day their
son came to expostulate against our
conduct, saying, that he wished to leave
home, and could not go until his father
and mother were dead, and that we
were preventing them from dying by
giving them food. How strong a proof
that “the dark places of the earth are
full of the hahitations of cruelty l”
However, we saved_ the lives of the
509 '
27?-, 274.
MISSIONS.
_ -

old people for the time, by sending
them food daily; so that they re-
covered and came back to their house;
and the interpreter, with our Fingo
brother, visited them daily, and made
known Iesus unto them. The result
eternity alone will tell.
(0) FORMER CRUELTY OF
SANDVVICI-I ISLANDERS.—-In giv-
ing an account of the former state of
the Sandwich Islands, the missionaries
say that the helpless and dependent,
whether from age or sickness, were often
cast from the habitations of their rela-
tives and friends, to languish and to die
--unattended and unpitied. An instance
came to their knowledge, in which a
poor wretch thus perished within sight
of their dwelling, after having lain un-
covered for days and nights in the open
air, most of the time pleading in vain
to his family, still within the hearing
of his voice, for a drink of water. And
when he was dead, his body, instead of
being buried, was merely drawn so far
into the bushes, as to prevent the offence
that would have arisen from the corpse,
and left a prey to the dogs who prowl
through the district in the night.
(cl) HINDOO REVENGE.—-A
quarrel having arisen between two
brothers and a man named Gowrie,
the emissaries of Gowrie entered the
house of the brothers, in their absence,
and carried off forty rupees. On their
return, they were informed of the theft
by their mother. They immediately
led her out to an adjacent-rivulet, and
one of them severed his mother’s head
from her body, with the professed view,
as entertained by both parent and sons,
that the mother’s spirit, excited by the
beating of a drum during forty days,
might for ever haunt, torment, and pur-
sue to death Gowrie and the others con-
cerned with him. The last words pro-
nounced by the mother were, that she
would blast Gowrie and those connected
with him. Nor is this a solitary case
of desperate revenge.
Q71. Cannibalism.
(a) BOYS FATTENED FOR
SLAUGHTER.-The Rev. Dr. Ca-
rey, of Serampore, writing t< a friend

in England, a few years ago, had occa-
sion to speak of Sumatra, as an impor-
tant station for the establishment of 8
mission, which has since been done.
The doctor related, that, a little time
before he wrote, he had received very
decisive evidence of their being can-
nibals. He was walking with a gentle-
man at Serampore, who pointed to a boy,
and asked the doctor if he could imagine
how he came by him. The reply was,
of course, in the negative. He then
stated, that he was on the east poast
of Sumatra, when, having occasion to
go ashore, he saw three little boys. He
asked a Malay who they were, and was
instantly told that they had been stolen
from a neighboring island, and would
be sold for food to the Battahs, (a nation
inhabiting part of Sumatra,) as soon as
they were fatienecl. He asked their
price, was told it was 150 dollars, he
paid the money, and took them on board
his ship for the preservation of their
lives! Truly, “the dark places of the
earth are full of the habitations of
cruelty.”
(I2) CANNIBALISM IN NEW ZEA.
LA ND.—-Mr. Leigh tells us, that, while
he was in the island of New Zealand,
he was one day walking with a chief
on the beach, and had his attention ar-
rested by a considerable number of
people coming from a neighboring bill.
He inquired the cause of the concourse,
and was told that they had killed a lad,
were now roasting him, and then in-
tended to eat him. He immediately
proceeded to the place, in order to
ascertain the truth of the appalling
relation. Being arrived at the village
where the people were collected, he
asked to see the boy. The natives
seemed much agitated at his presence,
and particularly at his request, as if
conscious of their guilt: it was only
after a very urgent solicitation, that
they directed him towards a large fire
at some distance, where they said he
would find him. As he was going to
this place, he passed by ihe laloody spot
on which the head of the unhappy
victim had been out off; and, on ap-
proaching, he was not 1:. little startled
at the sudden appearance of a savage-
looking man, of gigantic stature, en-
5.0
TREATMENT
OF FEMALES. 274, 235

"5;
tirely naked, and armed with a large
axe. He was a good deal intimidated,
but mustered up as much courage as
he could, and demanded to see the lad.
The cook, for such was the occupation
of this terrific monster, then held up the
boy by his feet. He appeared to be
about fourteen years of age, and was
half roasted. He returned to the village,
where he found a great number of na-
tives seated in a circle, with a quantity
of coomery (a sort of sweet potato)
before them, waiting for the roasted
body of the youth. In this company
was shown to him the mother of the
child, who, with her child, were slaves,
having been taken in war. She would
have been compelled to share in the
horrid feast, had he not prevailed on
them to give up the body to be interred,
and thus prevented them from gratifying
their unnatural appetite.
(c) A STRONG-HOLD ASSAIL-
El).—-Numerous groups of islands in
the Pacific have rapidly yielded to the
influence of the gospel. About ninety
islands have cast their idols “to the
moles and to the bats,” and about
400,000 idolaters have nominally (not
all truly) embraced Christianity. One
of the strongest holds of cannibalism
and cruelty is found in the Feejee
islands.
When the posts of their temples are
erected, human beings are sacrificed,
their bodies baked in native ovens, and
the flesh eaten by the imbruted wor-
shipers. In 1839 a victorious war
party, returning from an exterminating
war, placed thirty living children in
baskets, and hoisted them up to the mast-
head of their canoes, to dangle in the
wind as trophies of victory. By the
motion of the canoes the helpless victims
were dashed against the mast, and their
piercing cries were speedily hushed in
the silence of death.
So numerous were the victims taken
in this war, that the most greedy can-
nibals were for a time glutted with hu-
man fieshl In some instances, this
execrable appetite for human flesh has
bezome so strong, that bodies have ac-
tually been dug up out of the grave to
gratify it! The gospel has assailed
this strong-hold. The Wesleyan Mis-

r
sionary Society, (Eng.) from whose
quarterly paper these facts are taken,
has a successful mission among them ;
540 have expressed hope in Christ, and
are regular communicants. Nearly
1,000 thousand persons, adults and
children, are receiving religious in-
struction in the schools. Thousands of
the natives, who have not embraced
Christianity, have been greatly bene-
fited by the gospel. Their manners
have been reformed, their morals ma-
terially improved. Cannibalism has
been abandoned by multitudes, wars
are less frequent and less cruel. A
few influential chiefs have united with
the people of God. One of these was
one of the greatest cannibals and war-
riors that Feejee ever produced. His
conversion has astonished his country-
men and gladdened the hearts of the
missionaries.
276. Treatment of Females.
(a) DISTRESS OF A MOTHER
—-A missionary in South America re-
proved an Indian mother for the mur-
der of her female infants. She replied
with tears, “I would to God, father,I
would to God, that my mother had, by
my death, prevented the distresses I
endure, and have yet to endure as long
as I live. Consider, father, our deplor-
able condition. Our husbands go out
to hunt, and trouble themselves no
further. VV e are dragged along, with
one infant at the breast, and another in
a basket. They return in the evening
without any burden. “Fe return with
the burden of our children ; and, though
tired with a long march, must labor all
night in grinding corn, to make chica
for them. They get drunk, and in their
drunkenness beat us, draw us by the
hair of the head, and tread us under
foot. And what have we to comfort us
for slavery that has no end? A young
wife is brought in upon us, who is per-
mitted to abuse us and our children,
because we are no longer regarded.
Can human nature ensure such tyran.
ny? What kindness can we show to
our female children, equal to that of
relieving them from such oppression,
, more bitter a thousand times than death?
511 .
275, 276
MISSIONS.
I say again, would to God my mother
had put me under ground the moment
I was born.”
(6) THE PRlEST’S REASONING.
——About the beginning of 1825, Mr.
King, an American missionary, spent
about six mon_ths in Tyre, (of Scripture,)
in Syria, and made some efforts to
establish a school there for the instruc-
tion of Tyrian females. He expected
to succeed, when one of the principal
priests rose up and said. “It is by no
means expedient to teach women the
word of God. It is better for them to
remain in ignorance, than to know how
to read and write. They are quite bad
enough with what little they now know.
Teach them to read and write, and there
will be no living with them.” These
arguments were sufficient to convince
all the Greek and Catholic population
of the impropriety of female education.
(0) THE HEATHEN ARE WITH-
OUT NATURAL AFFECTlON.—-A
Ilindoo family, after a pilgrimage of
nearly two thousand miles on foot, had
arrived within about one hundred and
fifty miles of the temple of Juggernaut,
when the mother was attacked with
cholera. The husband immediately
forsook her. With an infant at her
breast, and reduced as she was, she
crawled to a neighboring village, hoping
to find a shelter: but every application
proved unsuccessful. Denied admit-
tance at every house, she lay, in a
stormy night, with her infant, upon the
naked ground. Mr. Sutton having been
informed of her suffering condition,
repaired to the spot, and found mother
and infant lying under a tree, drenched
with rain. He had her removed, and
gave her medicine; but on the second
day she died. The infant was almost
famished. Mr. S. used every persua-
sion to obtain for it nourishment and
care, but he was unsuccessful. The
unfeeling reply of every person was——
“It is only a girl.” He applied finally
to the owner of the village, a wealthy
man, and a priest of Juggernaut. The
heard-hearted man could coolly say,
“ If the mother is dead, let the child die
too--what else should it do '2 It is but
a girl.” At length some milk was
procured, and the starving child re

ceived the nourishment with the utmost.
avidity. The heart of the missionary
was touched by its look of imploring
earnestness and unbounded joy. Ile
resolved to cherish her as his own child.
She has been brought to this country,
and placed at a female seminary near
Boston.
276. Miscellaneous.
(a) “THE HEATHEN HAVE NO
GOOD GOD.”——A New Zealand chief
lay pining on a sick bed. An European
visitor inquired whether he ever prayed
for the restoration of his health '.l “ N o,’ ’
he replied, “ we have no good God to
address; our god makes us sick and
kills us, but gives us nothing. Yours
is a good God who hears you when you
pray, and bestows good things upon
you. Pray for ‘me and I shall get well,
yours is a good God. Teach us to
know him, for New Zealand people
know nothing that is good.” So com-
fortless are the instructions of hea-
thenism, and so unlike the inspired
declaration, that “ like as a father
pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth
them that fear Him.”
(1)) EXAMPLE OF A RE.
VENGEFUL SPIRIT.--The Tahiti-
ans, before the introduction of Christi-
anity among them, were as implacable
and untiring in their efforts to execute
plans of revenge, as savages usually
are. Formerly, when one of these
islanders had at length succeeded in
slaying his enemy, he has bruised the
body of his foe to pulp with large stones.
He has then spread out the flattened
mass to the sun, till it was dried like
leather. Then he has glutted his re-
morseless hatred by we aring the cover
ing thus formed-—-having made an aper-
ture through the centre for his head-—
the hands dangling down in front, and
the feet behind, till the hideous garment
fell in pieces from the revengeful wear-
er. A practice similar to this, it is said,
prevailed among the New Zealanders.
How different is the character of the
South Sea Islanders now! No people
are more harmless, none more kindly
affectioned one toward another.
512
TEMPORAL BENEFITS.
276,277
Q’---—-~ -
(c) PRAYER MILLS OF TAR-
TARY.-—'I‘he votaries of Lamaism
actually use prayer mills. The follow-
ing is a description of these labor-saving
machines, by Zewick.
The kurdu, or prayer machine, con-
sists of hollow wooden cylinders of
different sizes, filled with Tangud writ-
ings. The cylinders are painted with
red stripes, and adorned with handsome
gilt letters in the Sanscrit character,
commonly making a distinct sentence.
Each of these is fixed upon an iron axis,
which goes through a square frame;
this frame is capable of being shut up
flat, and is formed upon a small scale,
much like a weaver’s shearing machine.
VVhere the lower parts of the frame
cross, there is a hole in which the axis
of the cylinder turns; by means of a
string which is attached to a crank in
the spindle, the machine can be kept in
motion, so that the cylinder turns in the
frame like a grindstone upon its axis.
Before the fire at Sarepta, we had two
large kurdus of this kind, with Tangud
writings of all sorts, rolled one upon
another, round the spindle, in the inside
of the cylinder, to the length of some
hundred feet. The Moguls believe
that it is meritorious respectfully to set
in motion, whether by the wind or
otherwise, such writings as contain
prayers and other religious documents,
that the knowledge of these scraps of
theology may reach to the gods and
bring down their blessing. These
prayer mills contain the above named
sentence,—-a comprehensive request—-
repeated it may be thousands of times,
and thus secure a wonderful multipli-
cation of power. These machines are
commonly found in the houses of the
Moguls.
We can smile at this worthless device.
Is it, however, more absurd than a
heartless prayer, offered to the living
God, for the coming of his kingdom,
and the diffusion of Christianity among
the needy heathen ‘I
(d) REIVIORSE OF AN INDIAN.
—--A young Indian, belonging to one of
the most untutored tribes of North Amer-
ica, coveted the distinction of a brave.
To secure this rank it was necessary, by
the usages of his tribe, to kill an enemy.

While engaged with a war party, he
attacked a little child, and when the
child ran into the bushes to escape, he
pursued. The child earnestly entreat-
ed him to spare his life. But the cries
of the helpless fugitive were disregard-
ed ; the pursuer struck him with a
spear in the breast. The wounded boy
persevered in his endeavors to extract
the weapon, until he fell and expired.
The young man, instead of feeling hap-
py, as he anticipated, after qualifying
himself by this cruel act for the rank
he coveted, became exceedingly wretch-
ed. He could not relieve his mind from
painful impressions. The image of the
child pleading for life, and his efforts to
extract the spear, constantly haunted
his imagination. Thus does conscience
perform her work even in the dark
mind of the savage. The Heathen are
thus “ a law unto themselves.”
BENEFITS OF MISSIONS.
Q77. 'l‘cn1p0ral Benefits.
(a) A MISSIONARY MAKING
PEACE.-—On one occasion, when Mr.
N ott, a Missionary, and his companions,
arrived at the island of Tubooi, the
whole of its population were preparing
for battle, being engaged in war. The
Missionary and his friends stepped for-
ward as mediators, saw the leaders of
the contending parties, expostulated
with them, brought them together, and
reconciled their differences. The con-
tending armies threw down their weap-
ons, cordially embraced each other, went
in company to a new building which
was devoted to the service of God, and
sat side by side to hear the gospel of
peace, which was now published to
many of them for the first time.
(1)) THE YVILD MEN OF THE
J UN GLE.—In the interior of the island
of Ceylon there is a tribe of wild men
called the V eddahs. ‘W hen first visit-
ed by the Wesleyan Missionaries they
seemed to be the lowest specnnen of
human nature that had been found in all
the dark region of heathenism. It is
difficult to see how any thing short of
idiocy could place them nearer to the
brutes. The Missionary thus describes
513
2'77
MISSIONS.
~_--—
them: “They have no knowledge of
God, they have never heard of such a
being. They wear scarcely any cov-
ering, and have no houses. In dry
weather they range the jungle, and of-
ten sleep under trees; and in the wet
season they creep into the caves, or un-
der overhanging rocks. Their beds
are a few leaves; they eat with their
fingers, with leaves for dishes. Sunk
almost to the brute, they live and die
like their shaggy companions of the for-
est.” Even on this people the gospel
has tried its power. More than fifty
families have permanently settled down,
forming two pleasant and now Christian
villages. They have schoolmasters and
Christian teachers. The gospel has
given them improvement in civiliza-
tion and the comforts of home.
Under date of July, 1841, the Mis-
sionary writes, “ they have already be-
gun to meet together for prayer, and
one has become an exhorter. The gov-
ernment agent says that they pray dai-
ly, conduct themselves with the great-
est propriety, and refrain from all labor
on the Sabbath. Twelve months ago
they had never heard of God ; now 200
have been baptized, and many more are
earnestly desiring to embrace the gos-
el.”
P (c) IMPLEMENTS OF WAR
CONVERTED TO PEACEFUL
AND EVEN SACRED PURPOSES.
-—-Among the natives of the South Sea
Islands, war was formerly as prevalent
as_it now is rare, and the cruelties of
their conflicts were of the most revolt-
ing description; to specify only their
treatment of infant captives, the tender
babe was transfixed to the mother’s
heart by a ruthless weapon; or it was
caught by the rough grasp of the war-
rior and dashed against the rocks; or
it was wantonly thrown up in the air
and caught upon his spear, where it
writhed in agony and died; sometimes
the ferocious warrior strung his infant
prisoners upon a cord passed through
the head from ear to ear, and with a fiend-
like pleasure trailed them upon the
sand in triumph.
But since Christianity has inculcated
her lessons of mercy, war is compara-
.ively unknown.

Says Mr. Ellis-—- Uften have I seen
a gun-barrel or other iron weapon, that
has been carried to the forge, submitted
to the fire, laid upon an anvil and beat-
en, not exactly into a ploughshare or a
pruning-hook, (for the vine does not '
stretch its luxuriant branches along
their sunny hills,) but beaten into an
implement of husbandry, and used by
the proprietor in the culture of his plan-
tation. Their Weapons of wood also
have often been employed as handles
for tools ; and their implements oflwar
have been converted with promptitude
into the furniture of the earthly sanctu
ary of Jehovah. The last pulpit I as-
cended in the South Sea Islands was at
Rurutu. The stairs that led to it were
guarded by rails. I asked my com-
panions where they had procured these
rails; and they replied that they had
made them with the handles of warri-
ors’ spears I”
(d) SWARTZ AND THE IN-
HABITANTS OF TANJORE.-—In
the time of war, the fort of Tanjore,
Hindostan, was in a very distressing
situation ; a powerful enemy was near,
and the provisions were insufiicient
even for the garrison. There was grain
enough in the country for their supply,
but they had no bullocks to convey it to
the fort ; the people had lost all confi-
dence in the Europeans, and the rajah
in vain entreated their assistance. The
only hope left them appeared to be in
Mr. Swartz, an eminent Missionary.
“ We have lost all our credit,” said the
rajah to an English gentleman; “ let us
try whether the inhabitants will trust
Mr. Swartz.” Accordingly he was de-
sired to make a speedy agreement with
them, for there was no time to be lost ;
the sepoys were daily dying in great
numbers, and the streets were literally
lined with the dead every morning.
Mr. Swartz, therefore, sent letters in
every direction, promising to pay with
his own hands for every bullock that
might be taken by the enemy, and in a
short time, his benevolent exertions ob-
tained for the perishing inhabitants
above a thousand bullocks. He sent
catechists and other Christians into the
country, at the risk of their lives, who,
with all possible haste, brougnt into the
514
TEMPORAL BENEFITS. ‘l7?

fort a large quantity of rice, by which
means it was preserved.
At another time, the inhabitants of
the Tanjore country were so miserably
oppressed, that many quitted the prov-
ince. I1 consequence of their depart-
ure, all cultivation ceased, and every
one dreaded the calamity of a famine.
Mr. Swartz, without delay, entreated
the rajah to remove the shameful op-
pressions, and to recall the inhabitants.
His advice was followed, and the rajah
endeavored to bring back the people,
promising to listen to their complaints,
remove their grievances, and that jus-
tice should be administered. This,
however, proved fruitless; all his ef-
forts were in vain, for the people would
not believe him. Mr. Swartz was then
requested to write letters to them as be-
fore. He cheerfully did so, assuring
them that, at his intercession, kindness
would be shown them, and that their
oppressions should be removed.
people immediately believed his word,
and seven thousand men came back in
one day, and the rest of the inhabitants
soon followed their example. He then
exhorted them to exert themselves to
the utmost in the cultivation of their
lands, which should have commenced in
June, but nothing was done even at the
beginning of September. The people
instantly replied, “ As you have shown
kindness to us, you shall not have rea-
son to repent of it ; we intend to work
night and day, to show our regard for
ou.”
(e) AN IDIAN TRIBE REFORM-
ED.—At a Methodist missionary meet-
ing in New Hampshire, Bishop Hedding
said, that on one of the islands in Upper
Canada, that he visited, there was a
company, or tribe of Indians, the most
filthy and degraded that he ever saw.
They were given to intoxication in the
worst manner that could be conceived
of. They lived a most uncomfortable,
miserable life, having scarcely food,
raiment, or shelter; but it was to these
wretched creatures the gospel was sent,
and it became the “power of God to
their salvation.” They left off entirely
their former habits; and when he last
saw them, they appeared like another
The '

people, had built themselves houses,
cultivated farms, and almost all of them
were doing well. One circumstance to
which he alluded was particularly
touching. He said he was explaining
to them the intercession of Christ
through an interpreter, who was himself
a converted Indian, but previously a very
bad man, one who, in a passion, had
murdered his wife. This was the first
time they had ever heard it explained in
this way, and the whole tribe were so
affected, that they could hardly sit on
their seats. For a time, such was the
weeping and crying, he could scarcely
proceed. The poor murderer was so
powerfully overcome at last, that he was
unable to interpret any longer.
(f) IMPROVED CONDITION oe
THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS.--The
Rev. Mr. Orsmond, a Missionary at Ei-
meo, states that, some years ago, he
overheard several chiefs conversing
among themselves as follows——
“ But for our teachers, our grass on
the hill, our fences and houses would
have been fire-ashes long age,” mean-
ing that the ravages of war would have '
continued to desolate the land. “But
for the Gospel, we should now have been
on the mountains, squeezing moss for a
drop of water ; eating raw roots, and
smothering the cries of our children, by
filling their mouths with grass, dirt and
cloth. Under the reign of the Messiah
we stretch our feet at ease, eat our food,
keep our pig by the house, and see
children, wife and all at table in the
same house. \Ve did not know more
than our ancestors, our kings and our
parents : and we were all blind, till the
birds flew across the great expanse with
good seeds in their mouths, and planted
them among us. We now gather the
fruit and have continual harvest. It
was God who put it into the hearts of
those strangers to come to us. We
have nothing to give them : but we are
a people of thorny hands, of pointed
tongues, and we have no thoughts.” “ If
God were to take our teachers from us,
we should soon be savage again. They
are the great roots to the tree on the
high hill: the wind strikes it, twists it,
but cannot level it to the ground, for its
515
277, 2'78
MISSIONS.
roots are strong. Our hearts delighted
in war, but our teachers ‘love peace, and
we now have eace.”
(gl GREAT CHANGE IN RAIA-
TEA.-—At a public festival at Raiatea,
a South Sea island, some of the chiefs
and others addressed the company, in
brief and spirited appeals to their mem-
cry, of the abominations of past times,
and to their gratitude for the glorious
and blessed changes which the gospel
of Christ had wrought among them.
They compared their present manner
of feasting, their improved dress, their
purer enjoyments, their more courteous
behavior, the cleanliness of their per-
sons, the delicacy of their language in
conversation, with their former glutto-
ny, nakedness, riot, brutality, filthy
customs, and obscene talk. One of the
speakers observed, “At such a feast as
this, a few years ago, none but kings,
or great chiefs, or strong men, could
have got any thing good to eat ; the
poor, and the feeble, and the lame,
would have been trampled under foot,
and many of them killed in the quarrels
and battles that followed the gormandiz-
ing and drunkenness.” “ This,” said
another, “is the reign of Jehovah,-—
that was the reign of Satan. Our
kings might kill us for their pleasure,
and offer our carcasses to the Evil Spir-
it ; our priests and our rulers delighted
in shedding our blood. Now, behold,
our persons are safe, our property is our
own, and we have no need to fly to the
mountains to hide ourselves, as we used
to do, when a sacrifice was wanted for
Ore, and durst not come back to our
homes till we heard that a victim had
been slain and carried to the marae.”
(it) THE JUSTICE’S TESTIMO-
N Y.-—The Rev. Dr. Philip, of the Cape
of Good Hope, states, that the honorable
Justice Burton informed him, after a
circuit tour, that he had made three
journeys over the colony as a circuit
judge; that, during these circuits, he
had nine hundred cases before him, and
that only two of those cases were con-
nected with Hottentots who belonged to
missionary institutions, and that neither
of them were aggravated cases. On a
mrnpar'son of the population at the Mis-
Biomary stations with that of the rest of


w—.—__-o --

the colony, which was under the juris-
diction of the circuit court, the fact
stated by the judge makes the proportion
of crimes as one only to thirty-five.
(2') THE FOURTH KlNG.—At a
missionary meeting on the island of Ra-
rotonga, one of the Hervey group, in the
Pacific Ocean, an old man, a candidate
for church fellowship, said, “I have
lived during the reign of four kings : in
the first we were continually at war,
and a fearful season it was, watching
and hiding with fear were all our en-
gagements. During the reign of the
second we were overtaken with a severe
famine, and all expected to perish ;
then we ate rats and grass, and this
wood and that wood. During the third
we were conquered, and became the
peck and prey of the two other settle-
ments of the island ; then if a man went
to fish he rarely ever returned, or if a
woman went any distance to fetch food,
she was rarely ever seen again. But
during the reign of this third king we
were visited by another king, a great
king, a good king, a powerful king, a
king of love, Jesus the Lord from heav-
en. He has gained the victory, he has
conquered our hearts; therefore w.-
now have peace and plenty in this
world, and hope soon to dwell with him
in heaven.”
2278. Spiritual Benefits.—Remarkable
Conversions and Revivals.
(a) CONVERSION OF TUAHIN E
—In a letter from the Rev. Mr. Ors-
mend, a missionary in the South Seas,
he gives the following interesting ac-
count :—-
A young man named Tuahine, came
lctitering about my house in an unusual
way. Knowing him to be one of the
baser sort, I said, “Friend, have you
any business with me '2” Tears gushed
into his eyes-—-he could at first hardly
speak—at length he replied, “ You know
I am a wicked man. Shame covers my
face and holds me back. Today I have
broke through all fear. I want to know,
is there room for me? can I expect
mercy '2” I said, “How came you to
have such a thought as that '2” His
countenance blushed; tears started from
516
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
278
his eyes, and he said, “I was at work,
putting up my garden fence. It was
a long hard work, and only myself to
do it. All over dirt and greatly wea-
ried, I sat down on a little bank to rest,
and said within myself, I cannot tell
why, ‘ All this great garden, and death
for my soul; all this great property,
and death for ever! Oh, what shall I
do ’l’ I went immediately and bathed;
then went to my wife, and told her my
thoughts and wishes; she agreed to my
desire, and we, on that evening, left our
work, and came to this place where the
word of God lives, and I have been
wishing to speak to you ever since.” I
was quite affected to hear this tale, gave
him all the instruction and encourage-
ment Which I conceived the Scriptures
warranted, and am happy to say, that
the man continues to live happily and
worthy of the gospel.
(1)) THE CONJURER CONVERT-
ED.-—-Among other converts of Mr.
Brainerd’s, was a man who had been a
most notorious sinner, a drunkard, a
murderer, a conjurer; but who at
length appeared to be an illustrious
trophy of the power and the riches of
Divine grace. He lived near the Forks
of Delaware, and occasionally attended
Mr. Brainerd’s ministry; but, for a
time, like many others of the Indians,
was not at all reformed by the instruc-
tions which he enjoyed. About that
very time he murdered a promising
young Indian, and he still followed his
old trade of conjuring, being held in
high reputation among his countrymen.
Hence, when Mr. Brainerd told them
of the miracles of Christ, and represent-
ed them as a proof of his Divine mission,
and of the truth of his religion, they im-
mediately mentioned the wonders of the
same kind which this man had wrought
by his n1a.gi.ca.I charms. As he was, in
this manner, a powerful 'bbstruction to
the progress of the gospel among the
Indians, Mr. Brainerd often thought it
would be a great mercy if God were to
remove him out of the world, for he had
little or no hope that such a wretch
would ever himself be converted; but
He, “ Whose thoughts are not as our
.l1onglits," was pleased to take a more

gracious and a more effectual method
of removing the difficulty.
Having been impressed by witnessing
the baptism of Mr. Brainerd’s interpret-
er, he followed him to Croosweeksung
shortly after, and continued there seve-
ral weeks during the season of the most
remarkable and powerful awakening of
the Indians. He was then brought un-
der deep concern for his soul.
His convictions of his sinfulness and
misery became by degrees more deep,
and the anguish of his mind was so in-
creased, that he knew not what to do,
or whither to turn.
After continuing in .his state of mind
upwards of a week, he obtained such a
view of the excellency of Christ, and of
the way of salvation through him, that
he burst into tears, and was filled with
admiration, and gratitude, and praise.
From that time he appeared a humble,
devout, affectionate Christian.
(0) SUCCESS OF MISSIONS IN
CEYLON.-—-During a remarkable effu-
sion of the Holy Spirit upon the several
stations on this island, the following
scene occurred at Panditeripo :-—-
On the 13th of February, 1824, while
Mr. and Mrs. Scudder were absent, and
after the boys of the boarding-school
had gone to their room, and were about
to lie down to sleep, VVhelpley, (a na-
tive member of the church,) was in-
duced to exhort them, most earnestly,
to flee from the wrath to come. They
were roused and could not sleep. By
little companies, they went out into the
garden to pray, and the voice of suppli-
cation was soon heard in every quarter,
each one or each company praying and
weeping as if entirely alone. More than
thirty were thus engaged in a small
garden. The cry was, “ VVhat shall I
do to be saved ?” and “ Lord, send thy
Spirit.” In about an hour Dr. Scudder
returned, and after waiting awhile, rang
the bell for the boys to come in. They
came, and with weeping proposed the
inquiry, “ What shall we do to be
saved ?” The next day they seemed
unmindful of every thing but the salva-
tion of their souls. And soon, under
the judicious instructions they received,
more than twenty'at this place gave en.
517
278
MISSIONS.
3ouraging evidence of conversion. This
was a specimen of the displays of divine
mercy witnessed at the several stations
of the mission.
((1) THE INDIAN ’S REPLY TO
THE TRADER.—A trader once en-
deavoring to persuade the Indian bro-
ther Abraham, that the Moravian breth-
ren were not privileged teachers, he
replied, “ They may be what they will ;
but I know what they have told me, and
what God has wrought within me. Look
at my poor countrymen there, lying
drunk before your door. Why do you
not send privileged teachers to convert
them, if they can ? Four years ago, I
also lived like a beast, and not one of
you troubled himself about me ; but
when the brethren came they preached
the cross of Christ, and I have experienc-
ed the power of -his blood, according to
their doctrine, so that I am freed from
he dominion of sin. Such teachers we
want.”
(6) A THIEF SAVED.-—A Caffre,
a fine, tall, athletic young man, addict-
ed to all the debasing and demoralizing
customs of his nation, one night resolved
to go into the colony for the purpose of
stealing a horse, which is a common
practice with them. He immediately
left l_,1ome, came into the colony, and
watched for an opportunity of accom-
plishing his purpose, which soon pre-
sented itself. He found two horses
grazing in a sheltered situation near a
bush, and he instantly seized one of
them and made off with it as fast as he
could. Elatcd with his success, and
rejoicing in the prospect of securing his
prize without being detected, he pro-
ceeded toward Caffreland, when all at
once the thought struck him, “ Thou
sha7t not steal.” He could go no farther.
He immediately drew up the horse, and
said to himself, “ What is this’.2 Ihave
frequently heard these words before in
the church, but I never felt as I do now.
This must be the word of God.” He
dismounted and held the bridle in his
hand, hesitating whether to go forward
with the horse or to return back with it,
and restore it to its owner. In this po-
sition he continued for upwards of an
hour. At last he resolved to take the

———_
horse back again, which he accordingh
did, and returned home a true penitent,
determined to serve God. When he
reached his dwelling, he could not rest;
sleep had departed from him; the ar-
rows of conviction stuck fast in his con-
science, and he could not shake them
off. The next day he took an ex out of
his kraal, or cattle place, and went to
the nearest village to sell it, in order
that he might buy European clothing
with the money, and attend the house
of God like a Christian. When he re--
turned home with his clothes, he went
to the minister’s house, told him all
that had taken place, and requested to
be admitted on trial as a church mem-
ber. The minister, cheered with this
statement, gladly received him ; and
after keeping him on trial the appointed
time, and findmg him consistent in his
conduct, a short time ago baptized him;
and he is now a full member of the
Christian church, and adorning his
Christian profession.
) CONVERSION OF A PRIEST
OF BUDDHU.—-—A young priest, who
was a zealous opposer of Christianity,
resided in the district of Matura, in
Ceylon. This spot is deemed the chief
seat of Buddhism on the island. The
chief priest resides here, and here also
is the principal college of the Buddhist
priesthood.
The priest was met incidentally, at
the prison of Matura, by Mr. Lalmon,
a Wesleyan assistant missionary. Both
had come to the place to visit a native
man, condemned to die. After some
conversation, the missionary challenged
the priest to produce a single proof from
any of his sacred books, that a Savior
for man had come into the world. The
priest was highly indignant at the chal-
lenge. He went to his temple, and
commenced a search for evidence from
the Buddhist writings of the doctrine he
was required to support. Though he
continued his search at times for two
years he was unsuccessful.
On visiting a neighboring district he
met with another missionary, who gave
him a copy of the New Testament, in
Cingalese. This he tuck to his temple
and read ; but it was four years before
518
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
278
the pride of his neart would allow him
to divulge the struggle that Was going
on in his mind. The rank he held in
the priesthood, being new second in the
Island ; his reputation for learning; and
the influence he had among the people,
were circumstances which induced him
so long to resist that light and convic-
tion which the perusal of the Scriptures
had conveyed to his mind. The repe-
tition of his visits, however, led to a dis-
closure of his condition. An alarm was
raised, and he found it necessary to fly
from the temple and take refuge in the
house of the missionary.
The priests wrote a letter to him,
Which was signed by them all, stating
that disgrace would befall them if he be-
came a Christian ; that were such a
talamity to happen, their religion would
receive an incurable wound. To this
he paid no regard. In a second com-
munication, they made him an offer of
certain temples and emoluments, pro-
vided he would not renounce Buddhism.
This likewise produced no effect. In a
third letter, they declared that if he be-
came a Christian, they would, by some
means or other, take his life. This
rather startled him at first. But he re-
mained firm to his purpose, and after
“learning the way of the Lord more
perfectly” from the missionaries, he was
publicly baptized in the presence of a
very large assembly.
“The conversion of this man,” said
Mr. Clough, a \/Vesleyan missionary,
“ is so impressive an event, that it more
than a thousand-fold rewards us for all
the toils we have had in translating
and publishing the Scriptures in Cinga-
lese.”
(g) THE BLIND SHALL SEE.-
One evening about sundown, says Rev.
E. Kincaid, I stopped at a city on‘the
Irawaddy. I sat on the boat, a short
distance from the bank, and began to
read from my tracts. The people sat
down on the shore ; some, however,
went to the town to say that a foreign
teacher had come. The crowd increas-
ed, and I read on til sundown. At
length a tall young man came wading
to the boat, and said, “Teacher, have
you the Acts of the Apostles?” Ima-
gine my surprise at hearing such a ques-

tion in that place. I replied, “Yes.”
He said again, “ Teacher, have you the
Gospel of John ?” He was evidently
well educated; I asked, therefore, “ How
did you learn about these books '2” He
told me that long ago his grandfather
had obtained them from Mr. Judson,
but had lost them in a great fire ; and,
now hearing of the foreign teacher, the
old man had sent him in the hope of
getting them agaim. I complied with
his request, and he hastened away. A
storm soon came upon us, and I remov-
ed my boat to the other end of the city,
two miles distant.
About eight o’clock in the evening,
the young man came again; he had
been searching all along the shore for
me. On his return to his grandfather,
the latter inquired if he had asked the
teacher to stay with him; and he had
now come to invite me to his house. I
went and found the old man seated in
the midst of his family. He put out his
hand to feel for me, and I perceived
that he was blind. His family had read
to him, and he spoke of the comfort he
had derived from John and the Acts.
“ The eyes of my body,” he said, “ are
dark; but the eyes of my mind are
opened.”
(it) CONVERSION OF AFRICAN.
ER.——One of the most extraordinary
instances of the power of divine grace
furnished in the annals of missions, is
that of Africaner, for many years a
chief among the Namacquas, a tribe of
people in South Africa. He was pro-
nounced by Mr. Campbell, “the Bona-
parte of the interior of South Africa.”
“ His name carried terror along with it
for several hundred miles around his
residence.” He was long engaged in
plundering the neighboring tribes, and
did not scruple to destroy two mission-
ary settlements.
His character may be learnt more
fully from the remark respecting him,
recorded by a missionary. “Soldiers
are sent, who, it is hoped, will succeed
in ridding the country of such a men-
ster, whom neither religion nor govern-
ment can restrain or subdue.”
When Mr. Campbell visited Africa,
in 1812, he wrote a conciliatory letter
to this man, asking him to allow the
519
278
MISSIONS.
-u-Q W

___“_ —_
missionaries to ret 1m to one of the sta-
tions, from which they had been driven
in terror by his violence. After some
delay, he granted the req_uest. The
conversation and preaching of a mission-
ary, at this station, had such an effect.
that Africaner one day said to him, “
am glad that I am delivered. I have
long enough been engaged in the service
of the devil ; but now I am free from
this bondage. Jesus hath delivered me :
him will I serve, and with him Will I
abide.”
VVhen Mr. Campbell visited Africa
the second time, he wrote thus to his
friends in England :
Africaner was the man of whom I
was most afraid when in that country
before, in consequence of the multitude
of plunders in which he was engaged.
There was a Griqua captain, of a dif-
ferent tribe, between whom and Afri-
caner there were frequent battles. Both
ofthese are now converted to the Chris-
tian faith. Africaner, as an act of
kindness to Mr. Moffat, traveled with
his people a journey of six days across
Africa, to convey Mr. Moffat-’s books
and furniture to Lattakoo. Formerly
he had gone as far to attack Berend.
On this occasion Africaner and Berend
met together in my tent, and united in
singing praises to the God of peace;
and when I recollected the enmity that
had formerly existed between them,
compared with what I then saw, tears
of joy flowed from my eyes. O my
friends, after the conversion of African-
er and Berend, let a man be as wicked
as he may, despair not of his conversion 5
for the grace of God is infinite.
It is pleasing to add that, to the day
of his death, Africaner maintained the
character of a consistent and useful
Christion.
CONVERSION OF CUPIDO.—-
Cupido, a Hottentot, was remarkable
for swearing, lying, fighting and drunk-
enness. His vices often laid him on a
sick bed. He was sometimes afraid of
God, though ignorant of him ; and ex-
pected that his conduct would prove the
destruction of his soul. He begged all
he met to point out some mode of deliv-
erance from the sin of drunkenness,
supposing that to abandon his other vices

would be easy. Some directed him ta
witches and wizards, whom he found
miserable comforters; for they told him
_hat when persons began to make such
inquiries it was a sure sign of speedy
death. and that his life was not worth a.
farthing. Others prescribed rarious
medicines, which he found as unavail-
ing as the counsels of the witches. He
was providentially led to Graaf Reinet,
where he heard, in a discourse from the
missionary Vanderlingen, that Jesus
Christ, the Son of God, could save sin-
ners from their sins. He said within
himself, “That is what I want! That
is what I want I” He repaired to the
missionaries, expressing his Wish to be-
come acquainted with this Jesus. And
he told all he met, that he had at last
found one who could save sinners from
their sins. Upon finding that the
preaching of the missionaries fitted his
own case, and laid open the secrets of
his heart, he said, “This is not of man,
but of God.” After he had rejoiced in
the hope of divine forgiveness, it was
his practice to recommend Christ to
others, as the only remedy for sin, who
could destroy it, as he himself could
witness, “ both root and branch.”
CONVERSION OF MIRZA
MAI-IOMED ALI.-—Mirza Mahomed
Ali, the only son of a venerable Persian
Judge, was introduced to the Scottish
missionaries at Astrachan, as a teacher.
He was found qualified to instruct in
Turkish, Persian, and Arabic. Discus-
sions became frequent, and although
they often produced in him the most
violent rage, he courted their renewal.
At length his mind was impressed by
.he truths of the Gospel, as appears from
the following extract from the journal
of Mr. McPherson :
“‘Mahomed Ali, my Arabic teacher,
came at his usual hour. On offering a
few remarks upon the absurdity of the
system of divinity which formed the
groundwork of our studies, 1 was more
than surprised to hear him reply, ‘I no
more believe what is contained in that
book,’ pointing to the Mohammedan Con-
fession of Faith. He now told me, that
his soul was in deep waters, and that he
could not sleep at night from reflecting
upon his perilous situation, in professing
520
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
Q78
a religion which he was afraid was not
the true one.”
From this time he appeared to be in
great anguish of spirit, while he became
more fully convinced of the truth of
Christianity. After his conversion, he
confessed that the fact of so many Chris-
tian missionaries being employed in dif-
ferent parts of the world, had made a
deep impression on his heart; that he
began to surmise that a religion which
could lead men to do so much for their
fellow creatures, must be from God ;
whilst among Mohammedans, none seem-
ed to take any interest in the condition
of others, whether they were in the way
to heaven or not.
He was much affected with the rela-
tion in which he stood to his venerable
father. “ I am sure,” said he, “that
my apostacy will bring him down with
sorrow to the grave.”
A Persian gentleman was sent by
Mahomed’s father to reclaim him, but
the young Christian remained firm.
After this, his father treated him with
the utmost harshness. He was confined
and beaten severely, until the mission-
aries applied to the governor, by whose
authority he was lodged in safety in the
mission house. Afterwards he was pub-
licly baptized.
The convert did not fail to exemplify
the meekness of a Christian under the
abusive treatment which he endured.
When he was brought to the residence
of the missionaries, his head still aching '
from the blows his father had given
him, he said, “I have suffered much
since I saw you; but Christ Jesus suf-
fered much more.” On another occa-
sion, being asked how he felt while his
father was beating him, he replied, “ O,
nothing at all; after he was done, I
wept and kissed him.”
After his baptism he visited his father.
Both of them wept much. The natural
affections of the parent’s heart were not
changed by the son’s apostacy, and the
son’s were only strengthened. The
father did not upbraid him, but stated
his conviction, that the devil had ob-
tained possession of him, otherwise he
never could have forsaken the Prophet,
nor his aged parent. He inquired very
kindly after his comfort. A few days


after, Mahomed Ali received a note
from his father, containing these mov.
ing appeals :——“ O, my unmerciful son,
how long wilt thou pain me? Ionce
fondly cherished the hope that when I
came to die,I should have laid my head
upon your knees, but these hopes are
fled.”
The afflicted ather continued to urge
upon his son representations designed to
shake his steadfastness, until at last he
consoled himself with the Mohammedan
tenet, that his son was fated to be an
infidel.
The son became a zealous advocate
for the Christian faith. His valuable
labors proved highly useful to the mis-
sion. After the lapse of about two
years, however, by some agency that
was never divulged, he was prohibited,
by an order from the governor-general
of the southern provinces of Russia,
from engaging in any missionary opera-
tions. He was not even allowed to go
beyond the boundaries of the city of
Astrachan, without leave from the po
lice-master. Nor was this all. He
was appointed by the government to the
oflice of teacher in Siberia—-an appoint-
ment equivalent to exile. On his way
to the secluded spot, to which he had
been ordered, he passed through Kazan,
the seat of one of the Russian universi-
ties. A German physician of that
place was so much pleased with the
young convert, so struck with his ta-
lents, and so interested in his history,
that he urged the principal persons in
the city to procure a change of his des-
tination, and obtain for him an appoint-
ment to a professorship in that city.
After much delay, the request of the
petitioners was granted, and Mahomed
Ali, or Alexander Kazem Beg, as he
was baptized, was appointed professo“
of oriental languages in the university of
Kazan. He remained steadfast in the
faith, adorning the doctrine of God the
Savior by a life and conversation be-
coming the Gospel.
(in) HINDOO GIRL SEEKING
JESUS.--A little Hindoo girl was one
summer’s afternoon playing before the
door of her father’s bungalow, when
she was carried off, taken to Calcutta,
and sold as a slave. She was a sweet
521
S378
MISSIONS.
—~-_\
and beautiful little girl, and the lady
who bought her soon began to love her
very much, and she thought that she
would not make her a slave. She had
no children of her own, and she liked
to have a little girl to play with her and
amuse her. She loved her more and
more, and as she grew older, she made
her her companion.
When this little girl was stolen from
her father, she was too young to have
learned his religion. The lady who
bought her was a Mohammedan, and
she brought the little girl up as a Mo-
hammedan too. Thus she lived till she
was sixteen years old, and then all at
once it came into her mind, she knew
not how, or why, that she was a sinner,
and needed salvation. She was in great
distress of mind, and went to her kind
mistress for comfort, but she could not
tell her of aSavior. All the lady could
do was to try to amuse her, and make
her forget her trouble; she hired rope-
dancers, jugglers, serpent-charmers, and
tried all the sports of which the natives
of India are fond, to give her pleasure;
these were of no use, and the little girl
remained as miserable as ever. Her
mistress, deeply grieved at the distress
of one whom she loved so dearly, next
sent for a Mohammedan priest. He had
never felt the want of a Savior, and he
could not understand the girl’s distress.
However, he took her under his care,
and did his best. He taught her a long
string ‘of prayers in Arabic, a language
which she did not understand. She
learned the long ‘hard words which had
no meaning to her, and she repeated
them five times a day, and each time
she repeated them, she turned towards
Mecca in the east, the birth-place of
Mohammed, and bowed her face to the
ground.
Did the poor girl find comfort in these
dark words and idle ceremonies’.Z N o ;
s.1e felt that there was no forgiveness,
no salvation in these. When she had
tried these prayers for three long years,
the thought struck her that perhaps all
.his sorrow of mind was a punishment
for having left the faith of her fathers,
and become a Mohammedan. She set
out directly in search of a brahmin
or Hindoo priest, and entreated him to

-H \!
receive her back into the Hindoo church
How do you think the brahmin answer
ed her ? He cursed her in the name of
his god. She told him how unhappy
she was, and how long she had suffered,
and begged him to pity her, but he would
not listen. She offered him a large sum
of money, and then he was ready to do
any thing ; so she put herself under his
direction, and went again and again.
He told her to take an offering of flow-
ers and fruit, morning and evening, to a
certain goddess who was some way off,
and once a week to offer a kid of the
goats as a bloody sacrifice.
In India the people have a language
of flowers. Each flower means some-
thing ; and when you go into a temple,
and see the flowers which have been
laid on the altar, you may often LC-ll
what petitions have been offered. The
flowers she brought as her offering
signified a bleeding heart. Oh, there
was One who would not have refused
such an ofi'ering! He only could have
healed her broken heart, but she knew
him not. For a long,Iong time, did she
carry flowers and fruit, morning and
evening; and once a week offer a kid
of the goats, and sprinkle the blood on
herself and on the altar. But she found
that “ the blood of goats could not take
away her sin ;” and very often she cried
out in her deep distress, “Oh I shall
die, and what shall I do if I die without
obtaining salvation?” At last she be-
came ill. It was distress of mind which
made her ill. Her mistress with deep
sorrow watched her beloved companion
sinking into an early grave. But one
day, as she sat alone in her room, think-
ing and longing, and weeping, as her
custom was, a beggar came to the door
and asked alms. Her heart was so full
that I suppose she spoke of what she
wanted to all whom she met, in hopes
that some might guide her. She began
talking to the beggar, and used a word
which means salvation. The man
started and said, “I think I have heard
that word before.” “ Where’.Z oh !
where have you heard it ‘P’ she eagerly
asked. “ Tell me where I can find that
which I want, and for which I am dy-
ino~ ' I shall soon die, and oh, what shall
7
Iflo if I die without obtaining salva-
522
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
278
|_-_—,
tion ?” The man told ner the name of
a charitable institution, where once a
week two thousand poor natives were
supplied with rice, and before the rice
was given out, some Christian teacher
used to speak to them. “I have heard
it there,” he said, “ and they tell of one
Jesus Christ who can give salvation.”
“ Oh! where is he ’.l Take me to him.”
The man cared nothing about this sal-
vation himself. He thought she was
mad, and he was going away, but she
Would not suffer him to go till he had
given an answer; she dreaded lest she
should miss that prize which now seem-
ed almost within her reach. “ Well,”
he said, “I can tell you of a man who
will lead you to Jesus,” and he directed
her to that part of the town where Nar-
raput Christian lived.
Who was N arraput Christian’.2 He
was once a rich and proud brahmin, but
he had given up all his riches and hen-
ors to become a humble disciple of Je-
sus, and he was now an assistant mis-
sionary and preacher to his countrymen.
This was the man of whom the beggar
spoke.
The Hindoo girl gave the beggar a
trifle, and that very evening she set out
in search of N arraput Christian, the
man who would lead her to Jesus. She
went from house to house, and inquired
of every one she met, “ Where N arra-
put Christian, the man who would lead
her to Jesus, lived I” but no one would
tell her. They all knew, but they were
worshipers of idols, and they did not
choose to tell her. It grew late and
dark, and she began to be afraid of be-
ing seen out at that hour. Her heart
was nearly broken, for she thought she
must return as she came, and die with-
out obtaining salvation. She was just
turning to go home, when she saw a
man walking along the road. She
thought she would try once more, so
she asked him the same question,
“Where N arraput Christian lived, the
man who would lead her to Jesus?”
To her great joy, he pointed her to the
house, and when she reacl.ed it she met
N arraput himself coming out at the
door. She fell at his feet in tears, and
wringing her hands in anguish she ask-
ed, “ Are you Narraput Christian, the

—-- .-_‘___-
man who can lead me to J esus’! OI:
take me to him; I shall die, and what
shall I do if I die without obtaining sal-
vation 'I” N arraput did not receive her
as the Hindoo priest had done ; he raised
her kindly from the ground and led her
into the house, where his family were
met at their evening meal. “ My dear
young friend,” he said, “sit down and
tell me all.” She told him her history,
and as soon as she had done, she rose
and said, “ Now, sir, take me to Jesus.
You know where he is. Oh! take me
to him.” Ah! if Jesus had been on
earth, how willingly would he have re-
ceived the poor wanderer. She thought
he was on earth, and that she might go
to him at once; but Narraput knew
that though he was not here, he was
just as able to pity and welcome her
from his mercy-throne in heaven; so
he only said, “ Let us pray.” All knelt
down, and as he prayed, the poor Hin-
doo girl felt that she had found that
which she had so long wanted.
(Z) THE MISSIONARY AND THE
PLAN TER.—The Rev. Robert Young,
missionary in the West Indies, tells the
following story:
When I was in the interior of the
country, in my former residence in the
island, Iwas waited upon by a white
planter, who requested me to go to his
estate to teach his negroes morality and
industry. I accordingly went, and about
three hundred were at once made to as-
semble in his large hall. I commenced
religious worship, and took my stand
behind his table. I gave out a hymn,
and he assisted me in singing it; and
after prayer I gave out a text, which led
me to speak against Sabbath-breaking,
and another evil very prevalent in that
country-—two sins of which mine host
was notoriously guilty. I perceived
that the word was not very acceptable.
He evidently withered under the state-
ments I made; he seemed, by his look,
to say, “You are traveling beyond your
record.” But I had possession, and de-
termined to keep it. As soon as I had
finished, he rose from his seat, under the
influence of great excitement, and said,
“I don’t belie\e that. N ow stop, my
negroes. I brought him here to teach
morality and industry——-that ia, that ye’!
523
2'78
MISSIONS.
are not to steal from your owner, nor to
be idle while you are at work ; but in-
stead of that, he has been finding fault
with me, which, to say the least, is very
ungentlemanly conduct. Now,” said
he, “I will expose the fallacy of all that
he has said. He has told you it is wrong
to violate the Sabbath; but he must
have forgotten that the law respecting
the Sabbath was given some thousands
of years before the West India Islands
were discovered, and therefore it could
have 0 adaptation to that part of the
world. And, as regards the other crime
of which he has said so much, I, for
one, Wish you could read your Bibles ;
for you will find it stated there, that
Abraham patronized the very thing that
Mr. Young has condemned.” And
thus, by the most shameful perversion
of the Scriptures, he went on to defend
his views, and sat down much elated
with his performance. I rose and re-
plied, and went further into the subject
than I had done before: he rose and re-
plied, and Irose and replied, and we
rept up the discussion for two or three
hours, to the no small amusement of
the negroes, who could no longer sub-
due their risible powers, but departed
with a loud laugh, exclaiming, “Ah!
Massa, Parson have been too many for
Iluckra.”
But, hear the sequel. Before I left
t‘iat country, I saw this same proud
Ilanter a humble penitent at the feet of
Jesus, putting his confidence alone in
that blood which cleanseth from all sin.
(‘n my recent visit to the island, I wait-
ed upon him, and was delighted to see
him. He expressed himself in a way
ill“? I cannot here describe: he was
v» a king in the truth, and adorning the
doctrine of God his Savior in all things.
(m) AN OLD IDOLATER.--One
dsy, while Mr. Wilson, a missionary,
was preaching at Raiatea, one of the
South Sea Islands, where he had re-
cently introduced the Gospel, an old
man stood up and exclaimed, “My
forefathers worshiped Oro, the god of
war, and so have I ; nor shall any thing
that you can say persuade me to forsake
this way. And,” continued be, ad-
dressing the missionary, “ what do you
want more than you have already’.2

Have you not won over such a chief,
and such a chief; ay, and you have
Pomare himself! what want you more '2”
“All--all the people of Raiatea; and
you, yourself, I want!” rephed Mr.
Wilson. “ N o, no,’ ’ cried the old man;
“ me--you shall never have me! Iwill
do as my fathers have done ; I will
worship Oro ; you shall never have me,
I assure you.” Little, however, did
this poor man understand the newer and
love of God. Such was the Messed ef-
fect of the Gospel on his heart, that,
within six months from that time, this
stanch, inflexible, inveterate adherent
of Oro, the Moloch of the Pacific, aban-
doned his idol, and became a Worship-
er of the true God.
(n) AND GATHERED OF EVERY
KIN D.—The Rev. Mr. Coan, writing
from the Sandwich Islands some eigh-
teen months after the commencement
of the great revival there, thus des-
cribes the character of the converts,
and the change wrought in them. The
entire document may be found in the
Herald for 1839.
“Could you get a glimpse of the met-
ley group, as they bend their steps to
the house of God, or as they sit around
the table of their dying Lord, I am sure
that the sight of your eyes would affect,
yes, melt your heart. The old and de-
crepit, the lame, the blind, the maimed,
the withered, paralytic, those with eyes,
noses, lips and limbs consumed with the
fire of their own or their parents’ for-
mer lust, with features distorted and fig-
ures the most deformed and loathsome,
these come hobbling upon their staves,
and led or borne by their friends, sit
down at the table of the Lord. Among
this throng you will see the hoary priesf
of idolatry with hands but recently
washed from the blood of human vic-
tims, together with the thief, the adul
terer, the sorcerer, the manslayer, the
highway robber, the blood-stained mur-
derer, and the mother--no, the monster!
whose hands have reeked in the blood
of her own children. All these meet
together before the cross of Christ, with
their enmity slain, and themselves
washed and sanctified, and justified in
the name of the Lord Jesus, and bv the
Spirit of our God.
524
SPIRITUAL BEI\ EIFITS.
279

—-
279.
' ~—---
Striking Exhibitions of Christian
rPempers, &e.
(a) SOLITARY BUT NOT ALONE.
—-The following instructive anecdote
was told by Rev. R. Moffatt, missionary
from Africa, at an anniversary of the
London Missionary Society. He and
his companions had traveled in the in-
terior all day and night, weary and with-
out food. They approached a village
inhabited by the Corannas, who were
accustomed to bloodshed and rapine.
An individual who met them warned
them against entering the village ; they
would do so at their peril. He pointed
them to the heights beyond the town,
where he said they could sleep for the
night.
“ We tied about us the fasting girdle
to prevent the gnawing of hunger. VVe
looked at each other, for we were hun-
gry and thirsty, and fatigued beyond
measure. At last an individual came ;
we asked for water. It was refused.
I offered two or three buttons remaining
on my jacket for a little milk. It was
refused with scorn. It was evident
something was brewing in the minds of
the people, and we had good reason to
be alarmed. We lifted up our hearts
to God. There we sat; and as we
gazed saw a woman descend from the
heights. She approached with a vessel
in her hand and a bundle of wood. The
vessel contained milk ; having set them
down, she immediately returned. She
shortly came back, bringing a vessel of
water in one hand and a leg of mutton
in the other. She sat herself down and
cut up the meat. VVe asked her name,
and if there was any relative of hers to
whom we had shown kindness ; but she
answered not a word. I again asked
her to tell me to whom we were indebt-
ed ; and after repeating the question
three or four times, she at last replied,
‘I know whose servants ye are, and I
love Him, who hath told me, he that
giveth a cup of cold water to one of his
disciples shall in no wise lose his re-
ward.’ Her words seemed to glow
while she wept profusely to see one of
the servants of Christ. On inquiring
into her history, I found she was a soli-
tary lamp burning in that village. I

Ru-
asked her to tell me how she had kept
the light of God alive in her soul. She
drew from her bosom a Testament, and
holding it up she said, ‘ That is the
fountain from which I drink; that is the
oil that keeps my lamp burning in this
dark place.’ I looked at the book; it
was a Dutch Testament, printed by the
British and Foreign Bible Society. It
was given her by a missionary when
she left the school! And it was that
book that had been the means of her
conversion, and had kept alive her piety
without any teaching save that of the
Holy Ghost, or any Christian fellowship
except communion with God.”
(b) A DISCOURSE ON THEFT
LEADS TO THE RESTITUTION
OF PILFERED PROPERTY.——Mr.
Nott, missionary at Tahiti, preached
from the text, “ Let him that stole, steal
no more.” The next morning, when
he opened his door, he saw a number
of the natives sitting on the ground be-
fore his dwelling. He requested an ex-
planation of this circumstance. They
answered, “ We have not been able to
sleep all night; we were in the chapel
yesterday: we thought, when we were
pagans, that it was right to steal when
we could do it without being found out.
Hire, the god of thieves, used to assist
us. But we heard what you said yes-
terday from the word of God, that Je-
hovah had commanded that we should
not steal. \IVe have stolen, ano all these
things that we have brought with us are
stolen goods.” One then lifted up an
axe, a hatchet, or a chisel, and exclaim-
ed, “I stole this from the carpenter of
such a ship,” naming the vessel ; others
held up an umeti, or a saw, or a kmfe ;
and indeed almost every kind of mova-
ble property was brought and exhibited
with such confessions. Mr. Nott pro-
posed that they should take the plunder-
ed property home and restore it, when
an opportunity should occur, to its law.
ful owners. They all said, “Oh no
we cannot take them back, we have had
no peace ever since we heard it was
displeasing to God, and we shall have
no peace so long as they remain in our
dwellings; we wish you to take them,
and give them back to the owners when
ever they come.”
525
279
MISSIONS.
(0) TIIE CONFESSION OF THE
MARTYRS.-—Fourteen Christians in
Madagascar, who, during the persecu-
tions there, had spent two wretched
years as fugitives in the mountains, de-
termined to go to the sea side and sail
to Mauritius. On their way they were
taken prisoners, and conducted to the
city.
A deeply interesting circumstance
transpired as these Christians were or
their way to the capital, after being ap-
prehended. On reaching the town of
Beferona, a guard was set upon them.
They were told that their manner of
traveling was suspicious, and not like
that of other people, having lanterns
at night, and striking into unusual paths.
Three days successively they underwent
examination ; and, on the third, they re-
solved to witness the good confession,
and therefore made the following decla-
ration, through Andriamanana, one of
their number, whom they had appointed
as their spokesman : “ Since you ask us
again and again, we will tell you. We
are not banditti nor murderers : we are
(impivavaka) praying people ,' and this make us guilty in the kingdom of the
queen, then whatever the queen does, we
submit to sufi"er.” “ Is this, then,” said
the interrogator, “your final reply,
whether for life or for death '2” “ It is
our final reply/,” they said, “ whether for
life or death.” “ I/Vho,” asked the ex-
aminer, “sent you from Tananarivo Cl”
“ N 0 one,” they replied, “ we went forth
of our own free will.” After the Chris-
tians made these declarations, it is said
that they felt inexpressible peace and
joy. They had prayed; they had con-
fessed Christ; and now that conceal-
ment was at an end, and they could
freely open their overburdened hearts,
they said to each other, “ N ow we are
in the situation of Christian and Faith-
ful when they were led to the city of
Vanity Fair.” And so it proved, when
a majority of them underwent the mar-
tyr’s death after the example of Faithful.
(d) A SABBATH-BREAKER RE-
BU KED.-—An incident, says a mission-
ary, occurred on the arrival of the Unit-
ed States at Honolulu, worthy of record.
The frigate came to anchor on Sabbath
morning. Captain Armstrong immedi-

ately sent off a lieutenant to make the
necessary arrangements for firing a na-
tional salute. The lieutenant, in com-
pany with the United States consul, call-
ed at the -residence of governor Kekua-
naoa, but he was at church. A note
was despatched informing him of the
frigate’s arrival, and that an oflicer was
ready to make arrangements for a sa-
lute. The governor returned an answer
that he was at divine service, but woule
attend to the business on the following
day, at nine o’clock, A. M. Hence the
quiet of our Sabbath was not dJ\""TI)Gd
by the discharge of cannon on sea or
land. I could not but contrast the con-
duct of governor Kekuanaoa with that
of the commanders of most vessells of
war, as well as most of the public It en
in many parts of Christendom.
(e) GOOD FOR EVIL.-—When it
was known among the islands that Mr.
I/Villiams had been killed at Eromanga,
the first proposition made by the people
was of a character worthy of their
Christian profession. It was not to take
their clubs and spears, and go, in large
numbers, to avenge the death of their
beloved friend, who had fallen a victim
to the cruel savages on that island ; but
that native teachers should be sent to
carry to those blood-stained shores the
gospel of peace, believing that to be the
best method that could possibly be adop-
ted to subdue their ferocious spirits, and
lead them joyfully to receive and kind-
ly treat European missionaries, who, at
some future period, might go to reside
among them. Two natives had the
moral courage to offer their services for
that particular field of missionary en-
terprise. They were taken thither by
Mr. Heath. The chiefs, in whose charge
they were left, promised to behave kind-
ly to them and to attend to their instruc-
tions.
THE HEART OF A NORTH
AMERICAN SAVAGE SOFTENED
BY THE GOSPEL.-—“ Whenever I
saw a man shed tears,” said an Indian,
“I used to doubt his being a man. I
should not have wept, if my enemies
had cut my flesh from my bones, so hard
was my heart at that time: that I now
weep, is of God, who hath softened the
hardness of my heart.”
526
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
279
(g) A SLAVE’S LOVE FOR PUB-
LIC WORSHIP.--One of the mission-
aries in the West Indies gave the fol-
lowing pleasing account to show how
highly the converted negroes value their
religious privileges :
A slave wished his owner to give him
leave to attend with God’s people to
pray: his answer was, “ No, I will
rather sell you to any one who will buy
vou.” “ Will you,” said he, “suffer
me to buy myself free, if me can '2”
“If you do, you shall pay dearly for
your freedom, as you are going to pray.
Two hundred and fifty pounds is your
price.’ ’* “ Well, massa, it is a good
deal of money, but me must pray; if
God will help me, me will try and pay
you I” For a long time he worked
hard, and at last sold all he had, except
his blanket, to buy his liberty to pray
in public; or in other words, to meet
with those who love Jesus Christ.
(It) THE CARPENTER AND
THE CONVERT.-—A carpenter who
was building the new church at VVai-
mate, a Missionary station in New Zea-
land, engaged a native convert to work
in his garden, and promised to pay him
for his labor. As soon as the native
had finished, he went to the carpenter
for his wages: but instead of getting
paid, another of the European workmen
knocked the poor native down, and
kicked him very cruelly while lying on
the ground. The native bore it all
most patiently, not murmuring nor re-
sisting, till the other had ceased his cru-
elties; but then, starting on his feet, be
seized the other by the throat, shook
him as if he had been a cat, and bran-
dished a sharp tool over his head, with
which he might have taken away his
life. “ Now,” said the native, “you
see your life is in my hand ; you owe
your life to the preaching of the gospel.
My arm is quite strong enough to kill
“on, but my heart is not, because I
have heard the missionaries preach the
gospel. If my heart were as dark as it
was before I heard them preach, I would
strike off your head. You owe your
life to the preaching of the gospel.”
He then let the workman go, without
having done the least harm to him.
*One hundred and forty pounds was the
common price.

(2') “IF YOU KILL RIPA I WILL
DIE WITH HIM.”-Mr. Davies visited
a pa at Pateriteri, belonging to two
Christian chiefs Perika and Noa, who
were brothers. They were expecting
an attack from Ripa, a chief of Hokian-
ga. Ripa had made an unjust demand
from the two Christian chiefs, and, on
their refusal to comply with it, he had
marched to attack them. It was at this
crisis that Mr. Davies entered the pa,
and there he found them surrounded by
their armed followers, engaged in sol-
emn prayer—praying especially for the
pardon of their enemies-—with a white
flag hoisted above their heads as a token
of their desire for peace.
Mr. Davies then went out to meet
Ripa and his party ; and how striking
was the contrast! With their bodies
naked, and their faces painted red, they
were listening to addresses urging them
on to vengeance and slaughter. The
address being ended, they rushed for-
ward toward the pa, yelling fright-
fully, and dancing their war-dance, bid-
ding bold defiance to the Christians.
The Christians were assembled on the
other side of the fence opposite the ene-
my, while one of the Christian chiefs qui-
etly walked up and down between the two
parties, telling the enemy they were
acting contrary to the word of God;
and that his party, though not afraid of
them, were restrained by the fear of
God from attacking them. Ripa and
his party only amounted to twenty ;
while the Christians were one hundred
strong. After many speeches had been
made on both sides, one of Ripa’s party,
in striking at the fence with his hatchet,
cut Noa on the head. This Christian
chief tried to conceal the wound from
his tribe ; but some of them saw, by the
blood trickling down, that he was wound-
ed, and instantly there was a simulta-
neous rush from the pa, and every
man’s musket was leveled. In anoth-
er moment Ripa and his whole party
would have fallen ; but N oa, the wound-
ed chief, sprang forward, and exclaim-
ed, “ If you kill Ripa I will die with
him ;” and then, throwing his own body
as a shield over Ripa, saved him from
destruction. Peace was then made be-
tween the two parties, and there was
527
2'79
MISSIONS.
great rejoicing. “Some years ago,”
adds Mr. Davies, “the very sight of
blood would have been a signal for a
dreadful slaughter.”
JOY OF THE REAPER.——A
short time since, says Rev. Mr. Goodell,
four of our Armenian brethren of the
more ordinary class, I mean those whom
we have never called upon in our meet-
ings to take an active part, went on a
little excursion to a place in the interi-
or, for a change of air. Here they
found quite a party of their country-
men; for the place is rather celebrated
for its salubrious air and is much fre-
quented in summer. And here, amid
much ridicule at first, they established
daily prayer-meetings and labored di-
rectly for the conversion of those whom
they found there. And the result was
that during the eight or ten days they
remained, they had the happiness ,of
seeing sixteen of those who had lately
scoffed, join their little praying circle,
and take part in the devotional exercises.
These four brethren have just returned
with joy to the capital, bringing some
of their sheaves with them.
(lc) THE INSIDE MAN LOVES
HIM.——Formerly, says a New Zealand
convert,I was in another road, and bore
another li-keness. When the new road
was pointed out to us by the Missiona-
ries, I paid no attention to it. But after
these stations were broken up,I began
to think about it, andwmy sins were dis-
covered to me about four thousand
(meaning an immense number). They
were like an army come up against me
to kill me, to slay me, to murder me;
they fought against me and caused me
great pain, as two men fight against and
beat each other, and cause pain. I then
began to think of taking to the new re-
ligion, and fleeing to Christ. In doing
so I found relief. The Spirit, the Com-
forter, came to my heart, and I felt
love, goodness, joy, and peace. I new
love Christ. I cannot say that the out-
side man loves Jesus Christ; but the
inside man loves him.
(Z) A KlNG’S PRAYER.—Mr.
Chamberlain, an American Missionary,
giving an account of the opening of a
new meeting-house in one of the Sand-
wich Islands, says, “Probably not few-

er than four thousand persons were pre-
sent, including most of the great per.
sonages of the nation. We were ex.
ceedingly gratified with the appearance
of the King on this occasion, and also
of his sister, the Princess Harieta Keep-
uolani. An elegant sofa, covered with
satin damask of a deep crimson color.
had been placed for them in the front
of the pulpit. The King, in his rich
I/Vindsor uniform, sat at one end, and
his sister, in a superb dress, at the\
other. Before the religious services
commenced, the King arose from his
seat, stepped to a platform in front of
the pulpit, directly behind the sofa,
called the attention of the congregation,
and, addressing himself to the chiefs
teachers, and people generally, said,
that this house, which he had built, he
now publicly gave to God, the maker
of heaven and earth, to be appropriated
to his worship ; and declared his wish,
that his subjects should worship and
serve God, obey his laws, and learn his
word. The religious exercises were
appropriate ; and when these were
closed, the Princess arose from her seat,
and, taking her stand upon the platform,
called the attention of the chiefs and
people anew to what her brother had
said, and exhorted them to remember
and obey. She said God was the King
above to whom they should give their
hearts, and render constant homage.
At the closing exercise of the occasion,
the King stood up, and saying, “ E pule
kakou” (let us pray), addressed the
throne of grace. In this act of worship,
using the plural number, he gave the
house anew to God, acknowledged him
as his sovereign, yielded his kingdom to
him, confessed his sinfulness, prayed
for help, for teaching'—-supplicated his
mercy, as a sinner, needing mercy, par-
don, and cleansing—prayed to be pre-
served from temptation, and delivered
from evil. He prayed for the different
classes of his subjects: for the chiefs,
teachers, learners, and common people;
for the missionaries and foreign resi-
dents ; and concluded, in a very appro-
priate manner, by ascribing unto God
the kingdom, and the power, and the
glory, to the world everlasting ”
528
SPIRITUAL BENEFITS.
eso, 281

280. Happy Deaths of Missionary Converts.
(a) TRIUMPHANT DEATH OF
A CONVERTED BRAHMIN.--The
following statement was made by the
ltev. Mr. Carey, from India, in an ad-
dress before the American Tract Socie-
ty, in 1825.
A young Brahmin obtained one of
our tracts, and after reading it, he came
.0 us full of anxiety, inquiring, “ What
shall I do to be saved '2” We instruct-
ed him out of the Gospel. He came
again and again, and at length re-
nounced his idols, and, we have no
tloubt, gave his heart to Christ. After
many weeks he joined a Christian
church. But God did not suffer him to
remain with us many years. He fell a
prey to the cholera. A little before he
died, another young native Christian
came to see and to comfort him; and
as he laid his languishing head on the
bosom of his young friend, he broke out
in an ecstasy, and said in his native
tongue, “Sing, brother, sing.” “And
what shall I sing '2” was the inquiry of
his friend. “Sing salvation, salvation
through the death of Jesus! Salvation
through Jesus Christ.” And I believe
these were the last words he uttered.
(Z2) THE SIBERIAN LEPER ON
HIS DEATH BED.—-I heard the other
day, said the Rev. Mr. Abeel, at a pub.
lic meeting, from one of the brethren
who had formerly been in Siberia, but
was recalled from the field at the eleva-
vation of the Emperor Nicholas to the
throne, a case of the most thrilling in-
terest. That brother told me, that, as
he was passing one day among a col-
lection of Tartar tents, he found a man
lying in the last stage of that loathsome
disease, the Zeprosy. As the Missiona-
ry looked upon him, he lifted up his
death-stricken eyes, and fastening them
upon his countenance, said, “I know
you.” “ How can that he,” replied the
Missionary, “have you ever seen me
before '2” “Oh yes, I have,” replied
the dying man. “Did you not preach
three years ago in such aBazaar '2” “I
cannot really tell,” replied the Mission-
ary, " I have no particular remembrance
of it.” “ Don’t you remember,” said
the man, in a tone of surprise, “you

stood upon the steps of such a house '2"
“ Oh yes,” a1 swered the other, “I :10
remember it now.” “ And do you re-
member what you preached there 2"
“No,” said the Missionary, “I have no
recollection.” “ You told us,” saidme
man, “ about Jesus who died to save
sinners, and that men of every nation
might come to him and he would re-
ceive and save them: Oh sir, I never
heard such things before. lthen be-
lieved in Jesus ; I received him as my
Savior, I never heard of him before or
since. But now I am dying, and am
looking to none other to help me.”
Penetrated with what he had heard and
seen, he went to another tent, and found
men drinking. He asked them, “ VVhy
do you not go to your brother '2 he lies
there dying with nobody to help him."
“ Brother I” exclaimed they with indig-
nation, “ he is no brother of ours; he
is a dog ; and has abandoned us, and
his soul is going down swiftly to hell.”
The missionary, thus repulsed, went
back to comfort his dying Christian
brother. He entered the solitary tent
but “the spirit had fled.” There lay
the follower of the Lamb, dead, and
with none to bury him, insomuch that
the missionary was obliged to dig a hasty
grave, and roll into it the emaciated and
half consumed body.
281. Miscellaneous Illustrations
(a) EXTENSIVE INTEREST
AWAKENED BY THE DISTRIBU-
TION OF THE NEW TESTA.
MEN T.-——The Rev. Mr. Fisher, a
chaplain in Bengal, relates the follow-
ing circumstances respecting a number
of Hindoos who were associated togeth-
er for the purpose of acquainting them
selves with the truths of Christianity, in
the year 1818.
It was reported that a number of
strangers from several villages had as-
sembled in a tape, near Delhi, and were
busily employed, apparently in friendly
conversation, and in reading some books
in their possession, which had induced
them to renounce caste, to bind them-
selves to love and associate with one
another, and to intermarry only with
their own sect, and to lead a strict and
34
529
281
MISSIONS.
holy life. A convert employed by Mr.
Fisher visited the spot, and found about
five hundred people, men, women, and
children, seated under the shade of the
trees, employed in reading and conver-
sation. He accosted an elderly man,
and said, “Pray who are all these peo-
ple, and whence came they ’!” “We
are all poor and lowly, and read and
love this book.” “ But what is this
book '2” “The book of God.” “Pray
let me look at it, if you please.” It
proved to be the New Testament, in the
Hindoostanee tongue, many copies of
which seemed to be in their possession,
some printed and others written by
themselves. The visitor pointed out
the name of Jesus in one of the copies,
and inquired, “ Who is that '2” “That
is God. He gave us this book.”
“ When did you obtain it '2” “ An an-
gel from heaven gave it to us.” “ An
angel ?” “ Yes—to us he was an an-
gel-——but he was a man, a learned pun-
dit.” A public reader appears to have
been selected by themselves for the ex-
press purpose of reading this miraculous
book; and their evenings have been
habitually spent for many months in
this blessed employment, crowds gath-
ering to hear God’s book. The ignor-
ance and simplicity of many of them
were very striking. They had never
heard before of a printed book. All
united in acknowledging the superiority
of the doctrine of this book to every
thing they had hitherto heard or known.
An indifference to the doctrine of caste
soon manifested itself, and the interfer-
ence and tyrannical authority of the
Brahmins became increasingly offen-
sive. At last it was agreed to separate
themselves from the rest of their Hin-
doo brethren, and to establish a frater-
nity of their own, choosing four or five,
who coula read the best, to be public
teachers. The number daily and rap-
idly increasing, especially among the
poor, a public meeting was deemed ne-
cessary, to which all their congenial as-
sociates were invited. A large grove
near Delhi was selected for the purpose,
and this interesting group had now. met
for the first time. They seemed to
have no particular forn1 of worship, but
each individual made daily and diligent

use of the Lord’s prayer. They re-
solved to hold such a protracted meeting
once a year.
It was found that this remarkable in-
terest among so large a group of inqui-
rers was awakened by the distribution
of some new Testaments at Hurdwar.
(b) DEMOLITION OF A DEVIL
TEMPLE IN TINNEVELLY.—In
Sevel, a large and populous village in
Southern India, the gospel, says the
Rev. Mr. Dent, has publicly triumphed \
over heathenisrn. There were a few
families there under instruction, of the
Shanar tribe. All of them, with three
exceptions, joined the congregation; and
they then agreed among themselves to
demolish their peicoil or devil temple),
and convert it into a place of worship.
Soon after, I visited the village, and the
people informed me of their intention: I
rejoiced exceedingly, that they had come
to this determination; and encouraged
them to it, by citing a few passages of
Scripture that related to the destruction
of idolatry. They asked me to come
to the spot; and I did so, in order to
witness the spectacle. The most for-
ward among our people entered the
temple first; and one of them, with an
axe in his hand, and with this sentence,
“O Christ, help !” in his mouth, gave
the chief idol a blow, and severed the
head from the body : then came others,
and threw down the idols and altars
that were therein, demolished the inner
courts and walls, and leveled them all
to the ground. The idols, broken to
pieces, they threw out for public ex-
hibition; saying, “Such are the gods
we have ignorantly worshiped and be-
lieved all this time! They cannot help
themselves; how can they help us '2”
There was a great crowd of spectators
collected together at this place. The
heathen of the village were quite angry
at this outrage and injustice, as they
termed it ; and would have made some
attempts to recover the gods, but my
presence tended considerably to still
them. The heathen cried out, “O ye
fools, ye madmen! what have ye been
doing ’.l Have ye cut down and destroy-
ed the tutelar gods and goddesses of
your village? Be sure that you am:
your families will ere long be visited.
530
SPIRITUAL
Ammen will revenge herself upon you
all, shortly.” Our people replied :
“ These are sand and clay, made by our
own hands: they can never do us any
injury ! The Lord Jesus alone is God:
Him we all worsh p, and he will pro-
tect us.” I had a good opportunity of
addressing the crowd on the folly and
absurdity of their religion, and of direct-
ing them to the Lord Jesus, the Savior
of poor lost creatures. The sight was
overpowering to me, having never wit-
nessed any thing of the kind before;
and I thanked God for this public
triumph of Christianity over idols and
idolatry in the village. We went after-
wards, and had a prayer in that place,
which but a little before was a devil-
temple, and a nest of all unclean things!
(0) SIVA AND HER TEMPLE.
-—-On the 27th of.Ianuary, 1826, a place
of worship was opened at Rammakah
choke, eight miles from Kidderpore : it
was crowded : many came from distant
villages : there seemed to be an awaken-
ing among the inhabitants. Soon after
that time, the Lord made bare his arm
in a most glorious manner ; and the idols
of the heathen he began to abolish. On
the 20th March the native Christians
tore up their idol Siva : it was a massy
stone of some hundred pounds’ weight.
The demolition of the idol produced a
wonderful effect on the people: when
the “ Destroyer,” for that is the mean-
ing of the idol’s name, was taken out of
his temple, the whole village ran toge-
ther in perfect amazement, one crying
one thing, and another another: each indi-
vidual, however, seemed to say, “Great
is Siva of the Hindoos l” The impres-
sion, observed Ramjhee, the owner of
the temple, was like the shock of an
earthquake.
On the 27th of March, the idol was
brought to Kidderpore, and presented to
the missionaries by its owners, who had
turned away from it with abhorrence.
lIere, indeed, says these good men,
we stand amazed; and say, “ What
hath God wrought!” Never did our
most sanguine expectations lead us to
think that we should live to behold this
obscene idol, in any instance, destroyed
before our eyes.‘ This is the first in-
stance that has occurred in Bengal ;

BENEFITS 28!
and it is important to add, that the
rooting out of this idol from his dn ell-
ing-place by the hands of his owners,
and consigning it to destruction, has
proceeded from the principles of the
gospel.
The temple, in which the idol was
placed, has since been taken down by
its owners ; and, with a part of the ma-
terials, they have erected a temple to
the one only living and true God.
Those very bricks which once inclosed
the demon of impurity, serve for the
purpose of screening the missionaries
from the rays of the sun waile preach-
ing to the heathen the unsearchable
riches of Christ, in a place which lies
nearly in the centre of a number of
villages, containing, at least, 20,000 in-
habitants.
(d) MR.WILLIAMS’ CONTRAST.
——In describing the influence of Chris-
tian missions on society, Mr. WVilliams
writes in his “ Missionary Enterprises,”
in reference to Rarotonga, I cannot for-
bear drawing a contrast between the
state of the inhabitants, when I first
visited them, in 1823, and that in which
I left them, in 1834. In 1823, I found
them all heathens ; in 1834, they were
all professing Christians. At the for-
mer period, I found them with idols and
maraes ; these, in 1834, were destroyed,
and, in their stead there were three spa-
cious and substantial places of Christian
worship, in which congregations amount-
ing to six thousand persons, assembled
every Sabbath day. I found them with-
out a written language; and left them
reading in their own tongue the “ won-
derful works of God.” I found them
without a knowledge of the Sabbath; and
when I left them, no manner of work
was done during that sacred day. VVher.
I found them, in 1823, they were igno-
rant of the nature of Christian worship ;
and when I left them, in 1834, I am not
aware that there was a house in the
island where family prayer was not ob-
served every morning, and every even-
ing. I speak not this boastingly ; for
our satisfaction arises not from receiving
such honors, but in casting them at the
Savior’s feet ; “for his arm hath gotten
him the victory,” and, “HE SHALL
HAVE THE GLORY.”
531
281, 282
MISSIONS.
I/Vnat has been said of Rarotonga is
equally applicable to the whole Hervey
Island group; for, with the exception
of a few at Mengaia, I believe there
does not remain a single idolater, or
vestige of idolatry, in any one of the
islands. I do not assert, I would not in-
timate, that all the people are real
Christians; but I merely state the de-
lightful fact, that the inhabitants of this
entire group have, in the short space of
ten years, abandoned a dark, debasing,
and sanguinary idolatry, with all its hor-
rid rites ; and it does appear to me that,
if nothing more had been effected, this
alone would compensate for all the pri-
vations, and labors, and expense, by
which it has been effected.
(8) CHANGES IN TEN YEARS.
—-In 1830, Rev. Mr. Williams, of the
London Missionary Society, first bore
the gospel to the Navigator’s Islands.
This group lies nearly west from the
Society Islands, at a distance of about
700 miles. The war-whoop was one
of the first sounds that fell upon his ear.
Burning villages marking the warrior’s
track, met his eye. The mass of the
people were debased and vicious, and
met together only to pollute and destroy
each other.
In March, 1840, a pious Scotch gen-
tleman visited these islands, and gives
the following account :—-
As we approached and sailed up the
harbor, we were gradually surrounded
by many canoes; and before we an-
chored the deck was covered by natives,
all anxiously and affectionately greeting
the new missionaries who arrived with
us. As we passed up to the house of
the resident missionary, we observed the
large erection, formerly used for hold-
ing their savage dances, crowded with
women, who were holding a prayer-
meeting, and filling the air with notes
of praise, in place of their ferocious and
abominable war-songs.
The chapel is 100 feet by 27, capable
of containing about 1,000 people, for
they fill every corner, passages and all,
besides standing at the windows outside.
You may imagine my feelings, when
standing in the midst of reclaimed sa-
vages, hearing them sing the praises of
Jehovah, seeing them how the head,

and reverently cover the face during
prayer; and during sermon seeming
to devour the word as it drops from the
preacher’s lips; while a woman would
sob out in spite of her efforts to repress
it; and a man would wipe the unmdden
tear from his swarthy cheek, so lately
marked by all that could express a fero-
cious heart, but now, meek, humble,
and subdued. Oh, how I wish you
could be present, to see the fervor of the
people, to see their subdued affection- ‘
ate countenances——those whose hands
were deeply stained with blood and mur-
der, washed and purified in the blood of
Jesus. In these islands 40,000 have re-
nounced heathenism--more than 20,000
have learned to read I
@892. Reflex Benefits.
(a) BRITISH SOLDIERS AT
MAULMEIN.——In a letter addressed
to the British and Foreign Bible Society,
by W. Bannister, Esq., of Madras, in
1832, the fbllowing facts are related :—--
The men of the —th regiment were
regarded as amongst the most depraved
in the country. Five or six years ago,
they were stationed at Maulmein, on the
other side of the Bay of Bengal. They
had there no divine ordinances, and the
Sabbath was scarcely known amongst
them. One of the men, in a drunken
fit, on one occasion, without any parti-
cular provocation, shot a sergeant of his
corps, and was subsequently condemned
for the crime. Before his execution, a
missionary obtained access to him, and,
through the blessing of God, was made
instrumental in his conversion. He
pleaded so affectionately and so earnest-
ly with the prisoner, that the sentinel
on guard was led to hearken to what
was going forward inside the cell ; and
was so much affected by what he heard,
that he requested, as a favor, to be ad-
mitted, whenever the missionary visited
the condemned man. This soldier not
only attended himself, but he told his
comrades of the manner in which tne
missionary conversed with the criminal
in such affecting terms, that many others
were led to attend ; and after seeing
their comrade die in peace througn
Christ, notwithstanding the offence he
532
REFLEX BENEFITS.
had committed, they requested the mis-
sionary to come to their barracks and
talk to them in the same way. This
he, of course, very gladly did; and, ere
long baptized about one hundred of
them, as he believed, in the faith of Christ.
Many of these m-en remained faithful to
the solemn profession they had made,
and became diligent students of the
Bible.
(1)) EMBARKATION OF MISSI-
ON ARIES AND THE OBJECTIN G
SPECTATOR.—A man of the world
stood upon the wharf, and saw a devot-
ed company of foreign missionaries go
abroad. “ He saw the son, the daugh-
ter, the brother, and the sister, the re-
lation, and the friend, with Christian
spirit and self-denial, give the parting
hand, and he protested against it.”
These, said he, are just such spirits and
talents as we need at home, and it is not
right, to send them away from the
country, when we need them so much at
home. But the Spirit of the Lord was
there ; and the spirit exhibited by these
missionaries was made the means of his
conversion, and he afterwards, with his
own money, educated more pious young
men for the ministry, than sailed in that
missionary company.
(c) FULLER AND HIS CHURCH
REWARDED.-—“ There was a period
of my ministry,” said this devoted man
to a friend, “ marked by the most point-
ed systematic effort to comfort my seri-
ous people : but the more I tried to com-
fort them, the more they complained of
doubts and darkness. Wherever I went
among them, one lamentation met my
ear, ‘ Ah! sir, I can get no comfort. I
am unable to appropriate any of the
reat and precious promises to myself,
flocked for light and behold darkness.’
I knew not what to do, nor what to
tnink, for I had done my best to com-
fort the mourners in Zion. I was
therefore at my wit’s end. At this
time it pleased God to direct my atten-
tion to the claims of the perishing hea-
then in India; I felt that we had been
living for ourselves, and not caring for
their souls. I spoke as I felt. My se-
rious pcople wondered and wept over
their past inattention to this subject.
They began to talk about a Baptist mis-

282
sion. The females, especially, began
to collect money for the spread of the
Gospel. We met and prayed for the
heathen, met and considered what could
be done amongst ourselves for them,
met and did what we could. And,
whilst all this was going on, the lamen-
tations ceased. The sad became cheer-
ful, and the desponding calm. N 0 one
complained of a want of comfort. And
I, instead of having to study how to
comfort my flock, was myself comforted
by them. They were drawn out of
themselves. Sir, that was the real se-
cret. God blessed them while they
tried to be a blessing.”
(d) MISSIONARY SOCIET1 IN
A THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY.-—
“ It may not be improper for me to ob-
serve,” says the Rev. Dr. Alexander,
respecting the Society of Inquiry of the
Theological Institution at Princeton,
“that in my opinion, no part of the ex-
ercises in the Theological Seminary,
has been attended with more manifest
good effect than those which appertain
to the proceedings of this Society.”
(6) INFLUENCE OF A PARTI-
CIPATION IN MISSIONS ON BAP-
TIST CHURCHES IN ENGLAND.
—“ After the departure of our brethren,
—the first Baptist Missionaries to India”
—says the brief narrative of the Baptist
Mission, “we had time for reflection.
In reviewing the events of a few preced-
ing months, we were much impressed.
The thought of having done something
towards enlarging the boundaries of our
Savior’s kingdom, and of rescuing poor
heathens and Mahomedans from under
Satan’s yoke, rejoiced our hearts. IV e
were glad, also, to see the people of God
offering so willingly ; some leaving
their country, others pouring in their
property, and all uniting in prayers to
Heaven for a blessing. A new bond of
union was formed between distant min-
isters and churches. Some who had
backslidden from God were restored;
and others who had long been poring
over their unfruitfulncss, and question-
ing the reality of their personal religion,
having their attention directed to Christ
and his kingdom, lost their fears and
found that peace which in other pursuits
they had sought in vain. Christians Jf
533
282
MISSIONS.
different denominations discovered a
common bond of affection : and instead
of always dwelling on things wherein
they differed, found their account in
uniting in those wherein they were
agreed. In short, our hearts we:e en-
larged : and if no other good had arisen
from the undertaking, than the effect
produced upon our own minds, and the
minds of Christians in our own country,
it w as more than equal to the expense.”
(f) PROPERTY SAVED BY A
MISSIONARY BOX.-—-On the 14th
of July, 1814, the three brigs, Eliza,
Mary, and Irish Miner, sailed together
from Limerick, all bound for London.
Early on the 26th they fell in with the
American armed ship of war I/Vhig,
commanded by James Clark, Esq.
Capt. Clark was first on board the
Mary of Waterford, and after examin-
ing his prize, he gave orders to take
some supplies for the Whig, and then to
set fire to the Mary, which was instant-
ly complied with. After seeing her in
a blaze, Capt. Clark went in his boat
on board the brig Eliza, Capt. Davis.
\Vhen he found her loaded with a cargo
of no use to him, he gave orders imme-
diately to set fire to her, and when the
preparations were making to carry the
order into execution, (which would not
take three minutes time,) Capt. Clark
accidentally went below into the cabin,
where Capt. Davis was overwhelmed
with trouble, bundling up his clothes to
follow his men, who by this time had
been put in chains, on board the Whig.
After Capt. Clark had observed all about
the cabin, and took away a heap of
charts and nautical and religious books,
he cast his eye on the “ Missionary
Box,” and asked what it meant. Capt.
Davis consequently told him the whole.
IIe paused a little, with one end of his
stick on the little box, and then broke
silence. “ Captain, we Americans are
not at war with you nor the like of you ;
but with your government (please
excuse the expression) we are at war.
Captain, as your cargo belongs to your
government, I will utterly destroy it:
but neither you nor your vessel will I
by any means hurt.” With that, he or-
dered fifty of his men to come on board,
which they did, and threw 637 sacks of


__‘ .-
corn overboard, and threw salt water
over what was left for Iallast so as ut-
terly to spoil it ; and when Capt. Clark
understood, by the register of the Irish
Miner, that part of her belonged to Capt.
Davis, of the Eliza, he spared her alto-
gether and her cargo: so that I look
upon it, that the Missionary box, actual-
ly saved two vessels and one cargo.
The above, I assure you, is altogether
authentic.
I am, gentlemen, w.'*h respect,
Yours truly,
THOMAS Pnornnr,
Jtlaster of the [mg Brotlwrs, of Pembrolca.
Cardzfl‘ Roads, ‘fay 17, 1814..
The above is an extract from a let-
ter to the Editors of the Evangelical
Magazine.
Capt. Davis was a member of a Me-
thodist church. He was in the habit
of putting into the box 6d., his mate 3d.,
his men 1d. each, every Monday morn-
mg.
(g) INFLUENCE OF MISSIONS
ON COMMERCE-——-There is, says
Mr. Dibble, one result of the mission-
ary effort, which is often overlooked;
the safety secured to ships in the Pacific
that visit to refit or recruit at the differ-
ent groups of islands. In former times
there was not an island in all Polyne-
sia where a ship could touch without
imminent peril. There is scarcely a
group of islands with which is not con-
nected some tale of massacre. Now,
throughout the whole of Eastern Poly-
nesia, except, perhaps, the Marquesas
Islands, ships may anchor, refit, and re-
cruit ; and the seamen may wander in
safety over the fields, and through the
groves. If the missions in the Pacific
had been sustained entirely by our go-
vernment and the go» ernments of Eu-
rope, it would have been asmall expen-
diture compared with the mere com-
mercial advantages which have been
gained-—a far more economical expen-
diture than characterizes most of our na-
tional enterprises. What does it re-
quire to support one man-of-war or one
exploring squadron '.l Yet how limited
the results in comparison; how small,
I say, if we look merely at the com-
mercial benefit to tie world I
534
HINDERANCES TO MISSIONS.‘
. Q * -———--'
(h) AN ENGLISH SEAMAN
CONVERTED AT OTAHEITE.—-
Before the mission to the islands of the
South Seas had proved successful, an
English seaman, on board a trading
vessel, called at Otaheite, and, through
the blessing of God upon the efforts of
the missionaries, was there called to
the knowledge of the truth. After-
wards he was removed to a man-of-war,
and became the happy instrument, by
his example and conversation, of bring-
ing thirteen or fourteen of his compan-
ions to a sense of their lost state and
their need of salvation by Jesus Christ.
VARIOUS REVIVALS IN
CONSEQUENCE OF THE MONTH-
LY CONCERT.—-—The establishment
of the monthly concert in this country
was soon followed by great reflex
spiritual blessings to the churches and
congregations.
In a narrative of the state of religion
within the bounds of the General As-
sembly of the Presbyterian Church,
published, May, 1816, we find the
following:
“By the last General Assembly it
was recommended to the churches to
join in monthly concerts of prayer, for
the extension of the triumphs of the
gospel. This recommendation has met
with very general attention: Christians
of other denominations have cordially
united with us in this interesting service.
God has been entreated by his people ;
he has answered their petitions, and,
blessed their souls. Several conversions
to God in individual cases, and several
revivals of religion in societies, may be
traced to these seasons of social prayer.”
In a narrative of the extensive re-
vivals of religion in Massachusetts, Con-
necticut, and New Hampshire, the
monthly concert is particularly noticed
among other means by which these
interesting seasons were promoted.
The General Association of Mass., in
their Report for 1816, say: “In Sandis-
ield, a special attention to religion,
which is traced to the monthly concert
of prayer as its origin, has very recently
changed the religious aspect of that
people. A hope is entertained of two
hundred, that they have passed from

death unto li ’e.”
282, 283
“ It is understood in this body, that
the monthly concert, attended in this
and in foreign countries, has been
blessed as a very great means of pro-
moting religious attention in many
places. In several instances, this con.
cert is mentioned as the means of exten-
sive revivals. While churches have
met to pray for a world lying in wicked-
ness, theyhave been led to realize their
own need of those divine influences
which they have attempted to implore
for others.” “Such is the nature of
prayer; we cannot pray for others
without being benefited ourselves.”
HOW TO MULTIPLY MINIS-
TERS.——-A writer in the St. Louis Ob-
server, relates the following facts as
having occurred in New England :—-
“ One who mourned over the march of
sin, said to an old man, ‘Alas, for our
destitution; within the bounds of our
association fifty ministers might labor;
we have not ten who are sound, both in
health and in faith. We need forty
more pressingly. How shall we get
them’.2 What shall we do ’!’ He was
somewhat surprised to hear his aged
friend say, with slow severity-—‘ Send
one half of the best you have away!
Send five of your ten across the ocean!
He that watereth shall be watered also
himself. For fifty years you have
paid scarcely the least attention to our
Captain’s last charge, preach to every
creature. Half were not sent, but some
were sent, and their number of ministers
and communicants was doubled, and
doubled again, within the recollection
of a middle-aged man.”
HINDERANCES TO MISSIONS.
283. Bad Example and Influence of Nomi-
nal Cliristians.
(a) FIRST MISSIONARIES TO
THE SANDIVICH ISLANDS OP-
POSED BY EUROPEANS.-—When
the first missionaries fi'om America
reached the Sandwich Islands, in the
spring of 1820, an effort was made by
some of the foreigners to have their
laiiding and establishment at the Islands
forbidden by the government. With
this view, their motives were misrepre
535
283,284
MJSSIONS.
,—-1
sented by them to the king and chiefs.
It was asserted, that while the ostensible
object of the mission was good, the secret
and ultimate design was the subjugation
of the Islands, and the enslavement of
the people: and by way of corrobora-
tion, the treatment of the Mexicans, and
aborigines of South America and the
West Indies, by the Spaniards, and the
possession of Hindostan by the British,
were gravely related. It was in conse-
quence of this misrepresentation, that a
delay of eight days occurred before the
missionaries could secure permission to
disembark. In answer to these allega-
tions, the more intelligent of the chiefs
remarked,-—“The missionaries speak
well; they say they have come from
America only to do us good: if they
intend to seize our isiands, why are they
so few in number? where are their
guns '2 and why have they brought their
wives '2” To this it was replied, “ It is
true their number is small ; a few only
have come now, the more fully to de-
ceive. But seen many more will arrive,
and your islands will be lost.” The
chiefs again answered, “They say that
they will do us good ; they are few in
number ; we will try them for one year,
and if we find they deceive us, it will
then be time enough to send them
away.” Permission to land was ac-
cordingly granted. Mr. Young, it is
said, was the only foreigner who advo-
cated their reception.
(Z2) REMARK OF A NORTH
AMERICAN INDIAN.———The mis-
sionary David Brainerd, in a tour
among the Indians of North America,
visited a place, then called Minnissinks.
Here he offered to instruct the people
in the truths of Christianity. The king,
to whom he addressed himself for leave,
laughed, and turning upon his heel,
went away. Mr. Brainerd followed
him into his house, and renewed his re-
quest; but he referred the business to
another, who appeared to be a man of
good natural parts. “Why,” said he,
“should you desire the Indians to be-
come Christians, seeing the Christians
are so much worse than the Indians’.2
The Christians lie, steal, and drink
worse than the Indians. They first
taught the Indians to be trunk. They

M
steal to that degree, that their rulers
are obliged to hang them for it; and
that is not enough to deter others from the
practice. But none of the Indians were
ever hanged for stealing, and yet they
do not steal half so much; we will not
consent, therefore, to become Christia.ns.,
lest we should be as bad as they. We
will live as our fathers lived, and go
where our fathers are, when we die."
(0) THE CHINESE AND EURO-
PEAN IDOLATRY.-—T he rn Jre intel-
ligent Chinese object to many parts of the
Catholic system, particularly to what
they call preaching down Chinese ido-
Zatry, and preaching up European idola-
try, for they say, they have more reason
to worship their own saints, than those of
Europe, of whom they know nothing;
they are willing to lay aside the worship
of images wholly, but will not exchange
them for those of Europe.
They are also offended at the in-
dulgences sold for money, for this, they
say, is priestcroy’t.
“I knew a merchant (says a gentle-
man who resided among them) who
threw off his (Catholic) religion in conse-
quence of being denied to eat pork in
Lent, without paying the church, which
he was not then disposed to do; and
without it he understood he was to be
damned, which startled him ; upon this,
he inquired, why he might not as well
eat the flesh as fish fried in pork fat,
which all the Christians in Macao were
allowed to do? He therefore told the
Padre, that if his salvation depended on
so nice a point as the difference between
fat and lean, he should no longer be of
that religion, and so returned to pagan-
ism. He often asked why the English
did not send Padres, who worshiped no
images, and teach their religion, for it
would be better approved.”
0
Q84. Prejudiccs and Perstcutions of the
Heathen.
(a) FIRMNESS OF A HINDOO
WOMAN UNDER PERSECUTION.
--The Rev. Mr. Sutton, a Baptist mis-
sionary, related the following account
at a public meeting in N ew-York.
A Hindoo Woman, who professed to
have been converted, applied to him for
536
HINDERANCES 'I O MISSIONS.
28-!
Christian baptism. He had tried her
state of feeling, by representing to her
the sufferings which must necessarily
follow a renunciation of her heathenish
creed; he set before her the loss of
caste, the wrath of her husband, the
disgrace, misery, and persecution, she
would probably be called to endure.
“I know all this,” she replied. “ I con-
sidered about that before I came to you.
I am ready and willing to bear it all:
I am ready to sacrifice all to my Lord.
Surely, sir, I cannot endure any thing
in comparison to what he suffered for
me.”
Such was converting grace in Hin-
doostan, and such the pure spirit of
martyrdom it could infuse into the
bosom of a despised Gentoo woman.
She was baptized; her husband swore
to destroy her: she applied to the judge
to get her child restored to her, but the
judge decided against her, her child
was torn from her, she was stripped of
all her clothing in open court, her hus-
band went to the high priest of Jugger-
naut, who performed her funeral rites,
as though she were dead: and she was
considered by the law and by all her
former friends as a dead woman. But
she endured it all, and endured it
patiently, for the love she bore to Jesus of
Nazareth, who had had mercy upon her.
(b) THE HINDOO’S SACRIFICE.
--—By the native law of India, the re-
nunciation of idolatry involves the loss
of all hereditary property ; hence many
who sport with its absurdities and prac-
tically disregard its rites, keep hold of
their possessions, and retain the badge of
Hindooism to their dying day. But the
conscience of a Christian will not sanc-
tion such a compromise, and if he has
patrimonial riches to relinquish, he
must renounce them, and become poor.
This was exemplified in the case of a
Hindoo convert, who for some years has
labored as an evangelist, and who sac-
rificed an income of 3,900 dollars
per annum, rather than conceal his
principles. And where a convert has
no sacrifice of wealth to make, the
dearer treasures of the heart must be
relinquished. His dishonored father
will disown him, his frantic mother will
nurse the hour that gave her such

a son ; by the wife of his bosom he wil
be despised and forsaken, and even his
children, around whom his lacerated
heart still lingered as the last earthly
objects of interest and hope, will often
be torn from his embrace.
(c) PERSECUTIONS IN GREEN-
L AN D.—-The Moravian missionaries in
Greenland endured much mockery and
opposition from the rude inhabitants,
when communicating to them the know-
ledge of divine truth. When the mis-
sionaries told them they meant to
instruct them about the will of God,
they were met by the taunt, “Fine
fellows, indeed, to be our teachers!
We know very well you yourselves are
ignorant, and must be taught by others!”
If they tarried more than one night
with them, they used all their endeavors
to entice them to participate in their
wanton and dissolute sports: and when
they failed in this, they mocked and
mimicked their reading, singing, and
praying, practising every kind of droll
antic; or they accompanied their de-
votions by drumming or howling hide-
ously. Nor did the poverty of the
brethren escape their keenest ridicule,
or most cutting sarcasms. They even
pelted them with stones, climbed upon
their shoulders, destroyed their goods,
and maliciously tried to spoil their boat,
or drive it out to sea.
(at) EARLY BAPTIST MISSION
ARIES’ TRIALS.--“I have general
ly,” says one of the Baptist missionaries
in India, “been three or four hours
every day in actual contact with the
people. Frequently I go and return in
good spirits, but sometimes I am low
enough. Good spirits are commonly
necessary to dealing with my poor peo-
ple, for there is generally a great deal
I among them that is very provoking. I
frequently tell them that it is a regard
to their welfare that leads me to do as
Ido ; and the declaration is received
with a sneer. On two or three occasions,
a number of little children have been
officiously seated before me, as an in-
timation that I say nothing worthy the
attention of men. The people often
call after me as I go about: one cries,
‘Juggernaut! Juggernaut!’ another
perhaps says with a contemptuous smile_
537
284, 285
MISSION S.

‘Won’t you give me a book '2’ Soon
after, perhaps a third says, ‘Sahib! I
will worship Jesus Christ !’ and a fourth
exclaims, ‘victory to Juggernaut the
Ruler!’ Among these infatuated people,
I fear that the utmost propriety in spirit
and demeanor would be no protection
from very frequent insults. In spite of
the most affectionate addresses of which
am capable, and in the midst of them,
the people, in malicious derision, shout,
‘Juggernaut! Juggernaut!’ and seem
determined, as it were, with one heart
and voice, to support their idols, and
resist Jesus Christ. I hope he will, ere
long, act for himself ; and then floods
of pious sorrow will stream from the
haughtiest eyes, and the grace now
scorned will be sought with successful
earnestness.”
(e) A CHOCTAW INDIAN AND
HIS ENEMIES.--The Rev. Mr. Cush-
man, a missionary among the Choctaw
Indians, in a letter, dated March, 1833,
writes :—
That you may have a clear view of
the trials and temptations to which the
Christian Indians are exposed, I will
relate one circumstance. A man in
this neighborhood, who is very deaf,
gave evidence of piety, and was received
into the church. His example as to
industry and Christian deportment was
worthy of imitation; and his unblemish-
ed character no doubt rendered him a
more desirable prey for the enemy.
At length he was besieged by them,
and every art and stratagem was made
use of, till he finally parleyed with the
tempter and drank a little. Their prey
was taken. He finally drank till he
became completely intoxicated. After
he became sober, his wife, who appears
to be truly pious, told him that they had
professedly set out together in the road
to heaven; that they had walked to-
gether for a while; but that he had
now turned out in the road to hell. She
told him further, that if he would con-
tinue to go on in that way, he must go
alone, and they could walk together no
more; for she could never leave the
bright path that she had found. She
then fell upon her knees, and prayed in
the most melting, fervent manner, for
the soul of her poor husband. This

“I
touched his heart. He melted ale),
confessed his sin, and resolved never
more to taste the accursed thing. After
this he was again attacked by the
enemy. He was requested to drink,
but refused. It was urged that he had
drank once, and he might as well drink
again. He still refused. Finally,
every thing was said that could be
thought of to influence him to drink, but
he stood firm. Having failed in all
this, they seized him and held him fast,
and forced whisky into his mouth, but
as often as this was repeated, he ejected
it without swallowing a drop. Finding
all their efforts fail, one said, “This
man has done nothing amiss, and he
now takes all this ill treatment patiently,
and we do wrong to use him so; if he
has a mind to be a Christian, let him
be a Christian.”
286. Privations and Perils of Missionaries
(a) MISSION HOUSE ASSAILED.
——The mission house at Lahaina, one
of the Sandwich Islands, was assailed
by English seamen. The Rev. Mr.
Stewart writes thus from the scene of
this outrage :
“ How great was my astonishment, at
the peculiar circumstances in which I
found our inestimable and beloved friends
Mr. and Mrs. Richards! How was I
surprised to meet, at my first approach
to the house, the presented bayonet, and
to hear the stern challenge of the watch-
ful sentry, ‘ who goes there ?’——and when
I assured him that I was a friend, how
inexplicable to my mind was the fact
of receiving the cordial embraces of my
brother, not in the peaceful cottage of
the missionary, but in the midst of a
garrison, apparently in the momentary
expectation of the attack of a fee, and
to find the very couch on which was
reclining one, who, to us, has been most
emphatically a sister, surrounded by the
muskets and the spears of those, known
to the world only by the name of sava-
ges! My first thoughts were that a re-
volt of the island against the general
government had taken place, in which
our friends had been seized, and were
guarded as captives—-or that some for-
midable party of unfriendly natives had
538
PRIVATIONS AND PERILS OF MISSI. NARIES.
285
W7
risen with the determination of destroy-
ing them, and that they were protected
by the higher chiefs—but as soon as an
explanation could be given, I learned
that their peril was from false brethren,
if the outcasts of a civilized and Chris-
tian country can be designated by such
terms. The seamen of a large ship,
at anchor at Lahaina, exasperated at
the restraints laid on their licentiousness
through the influence of the mission,
had carried their menaces and open acts
of violence against Mr. and Mrs. R. to
such an extent as to cause the chiefs to
arm a body of men to defend them at
the hazard of life. At that very hour,
three boats’ crews, amounting to near
forty men, were on shore with the sworn
purpose of firing their houses and taking
their lives. But as every thing, when
I left them, was in a posture to secure
their safety, it is unnecessary for me to
go further into particulars.”
(Z2) SUFFERINGS OF DR. JUD_
SON.—-The sufferings of Dr. Judson,
missionary to Burmah, while imprison-
ed, during the war between Burmal1 and
Bengal, are thus described by himself;
in a letter dated Feb. 25, 1826:
“I was seized on the 8th of June,
1824,--and in company with Dr. Price,
three Englishmen, one Armenian, and
one Greek, was thrown into the ‘ death
prison’ at Ava, where we lay eleven
months——nine months in three pair, and
two months in five pair of fetters. The
scenes we witnessed and the sufferings
we underwent, during that period, I
would fain consign to oblivion. From
the death prison at Ava, we were re-
moved to a country prison at Oung-hen-
lay, ten miles distant, under circum-
stances of such severe treatment, that
one of our number, the Greek, expired
on the road ; and some of the rest,
among whom was myself, were scarce-
ly able to move for several days. It
was the intention of the government, in
removing us from Ava, to have us sacri-
ficed, in order to ensure victory over the
foreigners ; but the sudden disgrace and
death of the adviser of the measure pre-
vented its execution. I remained in the
Oung-hen-lay prison for six months, in
one pair of fetters; at the expiration of
Which perioa I w as taken out of irons,

and sent under a strict guard to the Bur-
mese headquarters at Mah-looan, to act
as interpreter and translator. Two
months more elapsed, when, on my re-
turn to Ava, I was released, at the in
stance of Moung-shaw-loo, the north
governor of the palace, and put under
his charge. During the six weeks that
I resided with him, the affairs of govern-
ment became desperate, the British
troops making steady advances on the
capital: and after Dr. Price had been
twice despatched to negotiate for peace,
(a business which I declined as long as
possible,) I was taken by force and as-
sociated with him. We found the Bri-
tish above Pahgan: and on returning to
Ava with their final terms, I had the
happiness of procuring the release of
the very last of my fellow prisoners;
and on the 21st inst. obtained the re-
luctant consent of government to my
own final departure from Ava with Mrs.
Judson.
“ On my first imprisonment, the small
house which I had just erected, was
plundered, and every thing valuable
confiscated. Mrs. J ., however, was al-
lowed to occupy the place, which she
did until my removal to Oung-hen-lay,
whither she followed. Subsequently to
that period, she was twice brought -0 the
gates of the grave; the last time with
the spotted fever, while I was absent at
Mah-looan. She had been senseless and
motionless several days, when the pro-
vidential release of Dr. Price at the
very last extremity gave an opportunity
for such applications as were blest to
her relief. Even little Maria, who
came into the world a few months after
my imprisonment, to aggravate her pa-
rents’ woes, and who has been, from
very instinct, it would seem, a poor,
sad, crying thing, begins to brighten up
her little face, and to be somewhat sex.-
sible of our happy deliverance.”
Some conceptions can be formed of
the sufferings of Dr. Judson during his
imprisonment at At a, from the follow-
ing statement :
The white prisoners were all put in-
side of the common prison, in five pairs
of irons each; and where they were so
crowded with Bur man thieves and rob-
bers, that they had no suflicient room
539
285
MISSIONS.
to lie down. There were at the time
near one hundred prisoners, all in one
room, without a window or a hole for
the admittance of air, and the door half
closed. This, too, was after the severe
ho‘ season had commenced.
to) NARROW ESCAPE OF L. C.
DEHNE, MORAVIAN MISSIONA-
RY TO SOUTH AMERICA.-—In Nov.
1757, the Carribbee Indians set out with
the intention of executing their resolu-
tion, long since determined upon, of
murdering me. One day, while I sat
at my dinner table, I saw fifty men ap-
proaching in their canoes, who present-
ly after surrounded my cabin. Some
were armed with iron hoes and mat-
tocks; others carried swords and such
like instruments. Going out, Ispoke
to them in the Arawak language, and
bade them welcome in a friendly man-
ner. They answered roughly that I
should speak the Carribbee tongue. In
the meantime, I took care to observe
which of them was their commander.
Perceiving that I did not understand the
Carribbee, after some consultation in
this language, they ordered their inter-
preter to step forth and ask me in Ara-
Wak, “ Who ave you permission to
build and to live here ?” Ans. “The
governor.” “ Why have you come up-
on our land ?” I now stepped up to the
chief and thus frankly addressed him:
“I have brethren living on the other
side of the ocean, who, when they heard
that Indians lived here who were igno-
rant of their Creator, have sent me to
you in love, that I should first learn your
language, and then tell you about the
true God. At some future time, you
may expect to see more of my brethren
come here on the same errand.” “I
suppose you are a Spaniard '2” “ N o.’ ’
“ Or a Frenchman?” “No.” “Are
you a Dutchman, then ?” “ Yes, I came
from Holland, and a good way further
off. In short, I am one of the Brethren
that love you, and live on the other side
of the ocean.” “ I/Vell, didn’t you hear
that the Indians were going to kill you ?”
“ Yes, but I did not believe it, and you
have those among you, who have been
to see me and know that I love them.”
“That is true; and they have also told
me that you were a Christian very dif-

ferent from other white people.” “ Well,
if you knew that I loved you, how coulo
you think of killing me '2” He replied,
laughing, “ Well, indeed, I never thought
of that.” Upon this, all changed their
savage natures and walked off. In this
manner the Savior helped me on from
day to day, insomuch, that at the close
of the year, I found much cause for
praise and thankfulness to the Give“ of
every good and perfect gift. During
this period, I suffered much outward
distress, and often I rose in the morning
without knowing what I should eat, or
where I should procure food ; yet when-
ever I was perfectly destitute, undoubt-
edly according to the direction of Him
who fed Elijah by the brook Cherith,
Waraus or other Indians came and
shared their “ Casavi ” with me.
(cl) NARROW ESCAPE OF
COUNT ZINZENDORF.—This zea-
lous friend of missions visited the In-
dians along the course of the Susque-
hannah river, to promote among them
the establishment of Moravian missions.
In one of these visits, he had occasion
to encamp several days, with a few Mo-
ravian brethren, among the Shawanese,
a very depraved and cruel tribe. Con-
rad Weiser, a man well acquainted with
the customs and manners of the Indians,
had accompanied the Count to this spot,
and had left him for a short time, pro-
mising to return. The Shawanese
thought that, as Europeans, the Count
and his companions came either to trade
or buy land ; and, though he endeavor-
ed to explain the true aim of his coming,
they were not satisfied that his inten-
tions were such as he described.
It appeared afterwards that the sava-
ges had conspired to murder him and
his whole company. But the design
was mercifully frustrated. Conrad
Weisser, who was absent, and who
could know nothing of the plot, became
so uneasy that he could not prolong his
stay. He was thus brought back provi-
dentially, to the party marked out for
destruction, just in time to discover the
treacherous plan, and by his influence
and dexterity to prevent its execution.
Thus, while Count Zinzendorf, uncon-
scious of danger, retired frequently to
his tent, to pray for the savages around
540
PRIVATION S AND PERILS OF MISSIONARIES.
_-qq-—.—~
him, and while he enjoyed no security
except such as the entrance of his tent,
fastened by a pin, furnished, the shield
of Providence extended over him its
ample protection.
(6) A MISSION FAMILY BURN-
ED ALIVE.——On the 24th of Novem-
ber, 1755, the Moravian Mission at
Gnadenhuetten, not far from Bethle-
hem, in North America, was broken up
by a most destructive assault from In-
dians under French influence.
While the mission family were at
supper, an uncommon barking of dogs
was heard. Presently a gun was fired.
Upon this, several ran to the door, to
ascertain the nature of the disturbance.
As soon as the door was opened, the In-
dians fired upon the unsuspecting mis-
sionaries. Martin Nitschman was in-
stantly killed. His wife and some oth-
ers were wounded, but fled with the rest
up stairs into the garret, and barricaded
the door with bedsteads. One of the
missionaries escaped by a back window,
another by a rear door. The savages
pursued those who had taken refuge in
the garret, and strove hard to force the
door. Finding it too well secured to be
thus opened, they set fire to the house.
The building was soon in flames. A
boy and the wife of a missionary who
had escaped by the window, leaped from
the roof, and escaped unhurt and with-
out observation. Mr. Fabricuis leaped
also from the roof, but before he could
escape, he was perceived and murdered.
The rest, eleven in number, were burnt
alive in the house. Mrs. Senseman
Was seen by her unhappy husband, who
had escaped, standing with folded hands,
surrounded by the flames; and she was
heard to say, “ ’Tis all well, dear Sa-
vior.”
(f) ARRAIGNMENT OF A MIS-
SIONARY AT AVA.—-In the month
of November, 1836, Mr. Kincaid was
summoned from his home to the palace.
The early hour and other circumstances
indicated that a fearful storm hung over
the mission at Ava. Nor was he mis-
taken in this apprehension. On reach-
ing the royal court, he was confronted
with a list of charges, of which the sub-
itance is as follows .
The American teacher is stirring up

285
divisions among the people, teaching
them to despise the religion of their
country, and to follow a religion which
the king, the princes and noblemen do
not approve. He is not contented to
live quietly in the Golden City, as other
foreigners do, but in the city and all
places around, is giving books and
preaching a foreign religion, and his
object is to bring into contempt and de-
stroy the religion which has been re-
vered for ages.
After some replies had beer made by
Mr. K., one of the functionaries told
him publicly, that they were determined
to stop the distribution of books and
preaching. Mr. K. remonstrated on the
violence of this proceeding, and then
said, “You will allow Papists and Mus-
sulmans to follow their religion unmo-
lested, and converts from among the
Burmans are not disturbed.” They
cried out most violently, “ No Burmans
enter the Papist and Mussulman reli-
gions, and those people do not give books
or preach.” Mr. K. asked, “ Do you
intend to drive me out of the country T’
One of the leading men replied, “ No,
but you must promise to give no more
books, and not go about preaching.” “ I
cannot make such a promise.” “You
must promise.” “ I fear God more
than earthly kings, and cannot promise:
if you cut off my arms, and then my
head, I dare not promise.” They then
said he was not fit to live in the empire,
and must be sent ofi‘. The court be-
came exceedingly violent. Although
Mr. K. had reason to expect the worst
consequences, his personal liberty was
not abridged. His labors however were,
for a length of time, crippled by the op-
position of the government.
(g) A MISSIONARY “ PERPLEX.
ED, BUT NOT .N DESPAIR.”——A
missionary and his wife had been locat-
ed by an English society in the colony
at the Cape of Good Hope, or among
the Bushmen on its borders. The op-
position they met with from the colonists
destroyed all hope of success. Means
failed from the society; the wife of the
missionary was sick, and he must either
find means to return to England, or pen.
etrate the vast wilderness for many hun-
dred miles. VVhile he was making it 8
541
285, 286
MISSIONS.
matter of prayer, his wife, regardless
of her own comfort, desired that they
should of their own means, procure the
common conveyance of the country, and
depart in search of a settlement in the
wilderness. The missionary consented
willingly. They traveled over four
hundred miles, but met with no encour-
agement of attaining their object. Al-
most despairing, they encamped one
night, and, upon rising in the morning,
they discovered a savage chief, with his
train, not far distant. The blacks ad-
vanced and addressed them. They had
been deputed by their tribe, and were
then on a journey of five hundred miles
to the colony, where they desired to pro-
cure a missionary! As may be suppos-
ed, the man of God hesitated not, but
returned with the savage chief to preach
the Gospel to his tribe.
(I1) ROMANCE OF MISSIONA-
RY LlFE.—\Ir. Hinsdale, writing
from Mosul under date of January 4th,
1842, gives the following picture of
what must be a Missionary life in that
country.
Earnestly as I long to reet more la-
borers in this field, yet I eel constrain-
ed to repeat the sentiment, long since
expressed by my esteemed associate,
Dr. Grant. I should regret to see any
one come to labor here, who cannot
cheerfully and even joyfully make up
his mind to endure toils, and hardships,
and weariness, and hunger, and self-de-
nial, and peril in almost every form, for
these must be the portion of the first
Missionaries here, and especially of
those who may be stationed among the
mountains. It is no small step to come
down from the refined circles, to which
our young brethren in the ministry have
been accustomed, and relinquish the
conveniences, not to say luxuries, by
which they have been surrounded, to
sleep in a mud hut, or in the stable with
nis horses, with a quilt or rug spread
upon the clay floor for his bed and cov-
ering, surrounded perhaps with six or
eight natives with even fewer accom-
modations than himself; to exchange
the well arranged table for the simple
sheep-skin spread upon the floor, or
rather ground ; to dip his large wooden
spoon into one common dish with half a

dozen hungry Koords or Yezidees, 0!
Nestorians ; to drink the pure and often
impure mountain water from a simple
gourd-shell ; to sit on the clay floor,
with a fire in the centre of the room.
and neither fire-place nor chimney ; to
come down to these and various attend-
ant inconveniences, is no small step,
and requires no ordinary degree of self
denial.
(2') WESLEYAN MISSIONARY
AT FE.IEE.—When the Wesleyan
Missionaries ventured among the canni-
bal F ejeeans, they found them sunk to
the lowest depths of degradation.
Soon after Mr. Hunt had settled on So-
masoma, the heathen party brought sev-
eral dead bodies and laid them opposite
to Mr. Hunt’s house ; there they baked
them, and there they ate them. The
Missionary, shocked at these proceed-
ings, closed his door and blinds. One
of the heathen chiefs went to M r. Hunt,
and insisted upon his opening them
again, and intimated that if he thought
proper to reside in their country, he
must put up with their customs ; if he
insulted them in any way, he might ex-
pect a place in the oven. An Ameri-
can ship of war was at anchor at a
neighboring island. When the captain
heard of this circumstance, he took up
his anchor and sailed to Somasoma,
with a view of removing Mr. Hunt and
family to some other island where they
would not be exposed to such imminent
danger. Mr. Hunt thanked the cap-
tain for his kind and- humane conduct
in thus coming to remove him, but beg-
ged respectfully to decline accepting
his kind offer, stating that he was will-
ing still to hazard his life in the cause
of Christ. He considered the circum-
stance of their being so exceedingly de-
praved as an additional reason for re-
maining to diffuse that gospel which,
accompanied with the divine blessing,
would soon improve their condition.
Q86. Zeal for Missions.
(a) HOW TO GIVE.-——At a Mis-
sionary meeting held among the ne-
groes in the West Indies, these three
resolutions were agreed upon:
542
ZEAL FOR
L
‘,-
1. We will all give something.
2. We will all give as God has ena-
o'.ed us.
3. We will all give willingly.
As soon as the meeting was over, a
Leading negro took his seat at a table,
with pen and ink, to put down what
each came to give. Many came for-
ward and gave, some more and some
less. Amongst those that came was a
rich old negro, almost as rich as all the
others put together, and threw down
unon the table a small silver coin.
“ Take dat back again,” said the negro
that received the money, “ Dat may be
according to de first resolution, but it
not according to de second.” The rich
old man accordingly took it up, and
hobbled back to his seat again in a great
rage. One after another came forward,
and as almost all gave more than him-
self, he was fairly ashamed of himself,
and again threw down a piece of money
on the table, saying, “ Dare ! take dat !”
It was a valuable piece of gold ; but it
was given so ill-temperedly, that the
negro answered again, “ No! Dat won’t
do yet! It may be according to de first
and second resolution, but it not accord-
ing to de last :” and he was obliged to
take up his coin again. Still angry at
himself and all the rest, he sat a long
time, till nearly all were gone, and then
came up to the table, and with a smile
on his face, and very willingly, gave a
large sum to the treasurer. “ Very
well,” said the negro, “ dat will do;
dat according to all de resolutions.”
(Z9) THE COLORED WOMAN’S
EXAMPLE.—In one of the eastern
counties of New-York there lived a col-
ored female, who was born a slave, but
she was made free by the act gradually
abolishing slavery in that state. She
had no resources except such as she ob-
tained by her own labor. On one oc-
casion she carried to her pastor jbrty
dollars ; she told him that she wished
him, with two dollars of this sum to
procure for her a seat in his church;
eighteen dollars she desired to be given
to the American Board ; and the re-
maining twenty dollars she requested
him to divide among other benevolent
societies according to his discretion.
With such a spirit pervading the church,

MISSIONS. 286
how soon would the gospel be carried to
every creature l
(0) AN ADMONITION FROM A
HEATHEN.--A Chinese, says Rev.
Mr. Dean, who one year ago was a
worshiper of idols, and had then never
heard of the gospel, has joined us for
the last seven months in observing the
monthly concert of prayer at Hong Kong,
and has given, monthly, one dollar to
the cause of missions. He commenced
giving the sum when he was a day la-
borer, and when his entire income
amounted to less than twenty-five cents
a day ; out of which he purchased his
food and clothing.
((1) “THY KINGDOM COME.”—-
A little girl sent about ten shillings to a
gentleman, for the purchase of some
missionary tracts ; and in her letter she
says, “ She who takes this freedom to
ask so much of a stranger, began this
letter with a trembling hand. She is
indeed young in years and in knowledge
too, and is not able to talk much with a
gentleman on religion; but her mother
has taught her, almost eleven years, to
say, ‘ Thy kingdom come ;’ and she be-
lieves she cannot be saying it sincerely
if she does nothing to help it on among
the heathen. This thought emboldens
her to write to a stranger, almost as
though he were a friend.”
(6) GIFT OF A POOR BLIND
GIRL.—A poor blind girl, in England,
brought to a clergyman 30 shillings for
the missionary cause. He objected
“You are a poor blind girl, and cannc
afford to give so much.” “ I am inder d
blind,” said she, “ but can afford to give
these 30 shillings, better perhaps than
you suppose.” “ How so.” “ I am,
sir, by trade a basket maker, and can
work as well in the dark as in the light.
Now, I am sure in the last winter, it
must have cost those girls who have
eyes more than 30 shillings for candles,
to work by, which I have saved; and
therefore hope you will take it for the
missionaries . ’ ’ .
THE NEGRO’S OFFERING.
—The following pleasing circumstance
is related in a letter from the Rev. E.
Davies, of New Amsterdam. It is de-
lightful to witness such proofs of Chris.
tian devotedness among the negroes of
543
286
MISSIONS.
- —

the \V est Indies, whose temporal con-
dition was once so unfavorable to their
spiritual interests :
There has been a considerable in-
crease in the income of the station dur-
ing the past year. That increase has
oeen chiefly owing to a great effort
which the people are now making to-
wards a new chapel. In many instances
I was obliged to restrain their liberality.
One incident occurred which I shall
never forget. In calling over the names,
to ascertain how much they could give,
I happened to call the name of “ Fitz-
gerald Matthew.” “I am here, sir,”
he instantly replied; and at the same
time, I saw him hobbling with his wood-
en leg out of the crowd, to come up to
the table-pew, where I was standing. I
wondered what he meant, for the others
answered to their names without mov-
ing from their places. I was, however,
forcibly struck with his apparent ear-
nestness. On coming up, he put his
hand into one pocket and took out a
handful of silver wrapped in paper, and
said, with a lovely kind of abruptness,
“ That’s for me, massa.” “ Oh,” I
said, “keep your money at present, I
don’t want it now; I only wanted to
know how much you could afford to
give ; I will come for the money anoth-
er time.” “ Ah, massa,” he replied,
“ God’s work must de done, and I may
be dead ;” and with that he plunged his
hand into another pocket and took out
another handful of silver, and said,
“That’s for my wife, massa.” Then
he put his hand into a third pocket, and
took out a somewhat smaller parcel, and
said, “ That’s for my child, massa ;” at
the same time giving me a slip of paper,
which somebody had written for him, to
say how much the whole was. It was
altogether near £3 sterling—-a large
sum for a poor field negro with a wood-
en leg ! But his expression was to me
worth more than all the money in the
world. I have heard eloquent preach-
ers in England, and felt, and felt deep-
ly, under their ministrations, but never
nave I been so impressed with any thing
they have said, as with the simple ex-
pression of this poor negro. Let me
never forget it ; let it be engraved

——-—_--
on my heart; let it be my motto in al
that I take in hand for the cause of
Christ——“ God’s work must be done,
and I may be dead.”
(g) ONE STICK OF WOOD PER
MON TH.—Mr. Hitchcock, a mission-
ary at Kaluaaha, a little town on Mola-
ki, one of the Sandwich Islands, describ-
ing his monthly concerts in 1834, re-
ports that there were seldom less than
100 persons present. “Most of those
who attend,” he added, “have, during
the past year, been in the habit of con-
tributing, for benevolent purposes, one
stick g‘ wood each per month. Andl can
assure you that it is no uninteresting sight
to see men, women, and sometimes chil-
dren, bringing their humble offerings on
their shoulders from the distance of
one, two or more miles. The men go
into the mountains, and get the sticks,
both for themselves and their wives;
but the latter bring and present their
own. Though the people are superla-
tively poor, yet their contributions in
one year in this way will amount to not
far from twenty dollars.”
(h) A WIDOW AND HER TWO
SONS.—The Rev. Mr. James, of Bir.
mingham, England, stated at an anni.
versary of the London Missionary Soci-
ety, that an association was formed for
missionary purposes among his people
several years before, and that on this
occasion, among the other contributors,
a youth of sixteen years of age came
forward to enroll his name. When he
was requested to state how much he
wished to subscribe, he replied with
some difiidence, “ myself.” He was
the eldest son of an unfortunate widow,
to whom seven other children looked
for support. The proffer of the young
man could not be received without the
mother’s consent. It was scarcely to
be expected that her eldest son would
be yielded up for the missionary ser-
vice, when his exertions might soon
prove useful to his widowed parent, in
her indigent circumstances. The in-
quiry was made, whether the son could
be allowed to give himself to the mis-
sionary cause’.Z “Let him go,” was
the prompt reply of the devoted mother.
“ God will provide for me and my
544
ZEAL FOR
MISSIONS. 286

an
babes. and who am I, that I should be
hus honored to have a son a missionary
to the heathen '2”
The young man, aftr r obtaining an
education, repaired to India, where he
labored successfully and died.
(2) THE MOTHER OF A MIS-
SIONARY.--VVhen the Lord’s supper
was first administered in the Bengalee
language, at Union Chapel, Calcutta, a
missionary, Rev. J . B. VVarden, spoke
of the advantages of a religious educa-
tion. After speaking farther of his de-
parture, he said:
“ A pious and affectionate mother,
who I trust still survives, may perhaps
be with us in spirit. Among the sweet-
est ingredients which are mingled in
her present cup of consolation, stands
this the foremost, that she has a son, an
oldest son employed as a missionary to
the heathen.
“ When I was about to quit my coun-
try and home, for these distant lands,
she told me in accents never to be for-
gotten, that as I should not be present at
her dying hour to share her parting bless-
ing, and divide with my dear brothers
and sisters, the small patrimony which
Providence might enable her to divide
to her offspring, as a pledge that her
affectionate sympathies and tender con-
cern would follow me to the distant
scene of my missionary labors, she said,
I have a silver cup, which has been
handed down to each other by genera-
tions now no more, and produced at the
annual festivals of the domestic circle,
and this I give you to employ for a very
different purpose. When God shall
graciously crown your labors, or those
of your dear companions with success
among the heathen, let this cup be em-
ployed as the sacramental cup, from
which the first convert may drink the
emblem of the Savior’s blood.” He pre-
sented the cup to the infant church.
REV. MR. COX GOING TO
AF RICA.—-A short time before Mr.
Cox, an American missionary, sailed to
Africa, he visited the University at
Middletown. In conversation with one
of the students, he said, “ IfI die in Af-
rica, you must come after me and write
my epitaph.” To which the other re-

plied, “I will 5 but what shall lwrite 12>, J

“ Let a thousand missionaries die before
Africa be given up,” was the reply. In
this spirit he died.
(It) MISSIONARY ZEAL OF A
POOR WOMAN.——Rev. \/V. S. Plumer
addressing the Virginia Bap. Ed. Si-
ciety, related the following fact.
A poor woman had attended a mis-
sionary meeting a few years since.
Her heart was moved with pity. She
looked around on her house and furni-
ture to see what she could spare for the
mission. She could think of nothing
that would be of any use. At length
she thought of her five children, three
daughters and two sons. She entered
her closet, and consecrated them to the
mission. Two of her daughters are
now in heathen lands, and the other is
preparing to go. Of her sons, one is on
his way to India, and the other is pre-
paring for the ministry, and inquiring
on the subject of a missionary life.
(Z) ZEAL OF MARY PERTH.-
Mary Perth, a black woman, kept an
inn at Sierra Leone during the latter
part of her life. In her early days she
had been a slave in North America,
and had to labor from sunrise to sunset;
yet, during the interval of night, she
used, twice or thrice a week, to walk
seven or eight miles, with a child on
her back, to teach a few slaves of her
acquaintance to read, that they might
be able to study the Scriptures for
themselves.
(m) ZEAL OF A FEMALE SER-
VANT.—-A small chapel was a few
years ago built on the Barrackpore
road, Calcutta; the circumstances at-
tending the erection are interesting in a
high degree, and afford a pleasing
example of zeal and devotedness to
God, in the lower walks of life. It was
built and finished, with conveniences
which no other of the society’s chapels
possessed, by an aged Portuguese fe-
male, a member of the church meeting
in the Lal Bazar Chapel, who had been
all her life a servant, and in the receipt
of very moderate wages. Yet her
earnings seem to have been greater
than her wants; for, out of her small
pittance, she was able to save a sum,
which she thought could not be better
employed than by erecting a Bengalee
35
545
286
MISSIONS.
-—-
chapel, in which the word of life might
be regularly preached to the perishing
heathen. Ground was accordingly pro-
cured, though with some difficulty, in
the situation already mentioned, and a
commodious little chapel erected; which
she herself frequently visited, to see it
kept clean and neat, and fit for the
worship of God. VVhen the whole was
completed, she wrote a letter to one of
the missionaries, in which, with a sim-
plicity and a knowledge of her own
heart truly Christian, she confessed the
struggle which had taken place in her
mind between good and bad motives;
but, at the same time, renounced all
idea of merit on account of what she
had done. Besides building and fur-
nishing the house, she also defrayed the
monthly rent of the ground, and the
ordinary expenses of lighting, &c.,
which attended Divine worship.
(n) ZEAL OF ELLIOT.-—Soon
after the settlement of the Non-confon
mists in New-England, Mr. Elliot felt
himself strongly disposed to attempt the
conversion of the native Indians. He
was affected with that sentiment which
is expressed on the seal of the Massa-
chusetts colony; a poor Indian, having
a label from his mouth, with these
words: “Come over and help us.”
He was further induced to enter upon
this work, by the following sentence in
the royal charter : “ To win and incite
the natives to the knowledge and obedi-
ence of the only true God, and Savior
of mankind, and the Christian faith, is
our royal intention, the adventurers’
free professions and the principal end
of the plantation.”
In the prosecution of his efforts to
evangelize the Indians, he endured
many hardships. In a letter to a friend
he says: “I have not been dry night
nor day, from the third day of the week
to the sixth, but so traveled; and at
night pull elf my boots, wring my stock-
ings and on with them again, and so
continue. But God steps in and helps.”
After having formed, with the greatest
difficulty, a grammar of the Indian
language, he wrote, in a letter to a
friend, “Prayers and pains through
faith in Christ Jesus will do any thing.”
Such was the perseverance of Elliot

in his great work, that on the day of his
death, in his 80th year, the “apostle of
the Indians” was found teaching the
alphabet to an Indian child at his bed-
side. “ Why not rest from your labors,
now 2” said a friend. “Because,” said
the venerable man, “I have prayed to
God to render me useful in my sphere;
and now that I can no longer preach,
he leaves me strength enough to teach
this poor child his alphabet.”
(0) ROBERT BO1 LE’S INTER-
EST IN MISSIONS.—About the year
1680, the Hon. Robert Boyle evinced
rare zeal for the diffusion of Christianity.
He ordered five hundred copies of the
Gospels and the Acts to be translated
and printed in the Malayan tongue, and
sent to the East at his own charge ; and
a considerable number of Pococke’&
Arabic translations, to be distributed in
every country in which that language
was spoken. He also contributed large
sums to the translation of the Welsh
and Irish Bibles. At the same time he
rendered valuable aid to the missionary
Elliot in his endeavors to evangelize
the aborigines of North America. This
great man did not disdain the enterprise
of imparting Christianity to the pagan
world.
(p) ZEAL OF TWO BOYS IN
CAN ADA.—-There are two little boys
in Canada, the elder of whom is about
ten years old, and the younger about
eight. Two years ago their father gave
them the use of a small garden spot,
and told them they might have all they
could get by the sale of vegetables, or
whatever else they might choose to
raise upon it. He said he would put
the land in order and help them to plant
it; and then they must take all the
care of it themselves. The proposition
was accepted; the land was planted,
and the little fellows, with zeal and
faithfulness, fulfilled their part of the
bargain.
When the time came for selling green
corn and vegetables, these boys opened
a regular account with as many families
as they could supply, and, like business
men, entered all the items upon their
little day-book, from which every thing
was duly posted to their ledger. At
tl -‘ close of the season, the accounts
546
ZEAL FOR MISSIONS.


were all drawn off and collected. From
the money thus raised, they paid their
contributions to the Bible, Tract, and
Home Missionary Societies, and other
benevolent institutions, and then each
of them gave five dollars to the Ameri-
can Board.
The plan succeeded so well, that last
year, the contract was renewed with
their father. N ow, however, they took
into partnership their little brother,
about six years old, who thought he
could help a little. The business was
pursued in the same way as before.
When the agent of the American Board
visited their father, a few months ago,
the three little boys brought him their
books, and showed their accounts for
the season, and then put into his hand
three half eagles, (fifteen dollars,) as
the portion of their income which they
had consecrated to foreign missions !
(q) A POOR WOMAN GIVING A
FARTI-IING A DAY.——-A poor wo-
woman just after a misionary meeting,
called at the lodging of a minister, who
had been engaged at the meeting, and
told him she had been prevented from
attending it, but hoped she was not too
late to present a little contribution she
wished to make to the Society. The
poverty of her appearance induced the
minister to say, he feared she could not
afford to give any thing; but the poor
woman assured him that though she
was a widow, and had four children to
support by the mangle which she
worked, she had contrived to save a
little; and that she should be much
grieved, if he should refuse to take it.
She then untied a bundle she had
brought with her, and produced three
hundred and thirty farthings, saying,
that she had laid by one farthing every
day for the year past, excepting those
days in which illness prevented her
from working.
(r) A KING A NURSING FA-
THER.--When Messrs. Tyerman and
Bennett, in their visit to the southern
islands, held a large missionary meet-
ing, previously to their departure for
the Marquesas Islands, at which several
persons offered to accompany them as
missionaries, to introduce the gospel
where it was at presen: irnknown ; after

some offers of this kind had been ac-
cepted, Hautia, the regent of the island,
who was virtually king, and held valu-
able hereditary possessions upon it, and
received large contributions to support
his royal state, both from chiefs and
people, rose; his noble countenance
betrayed much agitation of spirit, and
he hesitated for awhile to unburden his
mind in words. At length, with an air
of meekness and humility, which gave
inexpressible grace to the dignity of the
high-born highland chief, he said, “I
have a little speech, because a thought
has grown up in my heart, and it has
grown up also in the heart of I-Iautia
Vahine (his wife). But, perhaps, it is
not a good thought; yet I must speak
it; and this is our thought: If the mis-
sionaries, and the deputation, and the
church of Huahine, think that I and my
wife would be fit companions for Anna
and his wife, to teach the good word of
God to those idolatrous people, who are
as we were, and cause them to become
as we are here ; and in Tahiti, and
Eimeo, and Raiatea, and Borabora, we
should be rejoiced to go; but, perhaps,
we are not worthy, and others may be
better suited for the blessed work ; yet
we should love to go.”
This declaration produced a most
extraordinary sensation throughout the
whole assembly; as the speaker had
given good evidence of his true Chris-
tianity. When, however, it was repre-
sentent to him that his usefulness where
he was in the church, as the superin-
tendent of the schools, and in the exer-
tion of his influence among his subjects,
was far more extensive than that of any
other person could be ; and that, though
it was well that this thought was in his
heart, yet he could not on these accounts
be sent, he was deeply affected, and
replied, “Since you say so, perhaps it
is the Lord’s will that we should not go
to the Marquesas, but stay in Huahine ;
perhaps we may serve him better here.
Be it so; and yet Iwish that it had
fallen to me and my wife to go.” Oh,
what a lesson is this to Christians.
(8) ZEAL OF DR. PHILIP.-An
English clergyman was once invited to
take the pastoral charge of a large and
wealthy congregation. One of his first
286/
547
286
MISSIONS.
inquiries on coming among them, was,
what they had done in aid of benevolent
Societies. “What does your subscrip-
tion for foreign missions amount to ’Z’’
“ IV e have not given any thing for that
object.” “And for the Bible Society?”
“ Nothing.” “ I cannot stay with such
a church,” said the clergyman. The
members of the congregation, who were
extremely anxious to secure his services,
remarked that he could himself open
subscriptions for these different religions
societies on the spot. He took them at
their word, and set himself immediately
to work. He organized several as-
sociations among his people, and col-
lected, the first year, six hundred pounds
sterling (nearly $3,000.) During the
same year, he sent from his own church,
eleven members to be missionaries;
before he left his charge, he had sent
out twenty, and finally devoted himself
to the missionary work. This clergy-
man is known to all friends of the cause.
It was Dr. Philip, afterwards Super-
intendent of the London Society’s mis-
sions at the Cape of Good Hope.
(t) CONSCIENTIOUS ZEAL OF
CONVERTED PAGANS.——Mission-
ary associations were formed among
the converted islanders of the South
Seas, to aid the London Missionary So-
ciety. The contributions consisted of
oil, cotton, arrow-root, and swine. Such
articles were subscribed “ to buy money
with.”
IV hen an auxiliary association was
formed at Huahine, the people were
cautioned against making donations
merely from a sense of constraint. Still,
a native brought a pig to the treasurer,
Hautia, and throwing the animal down
at his feet, said, in an angry tone,
“ Here is a pig for your society.”
“ Take it back again,” replied Hautia,
calmly, “God does not accept angry
igs.” He then explained the objects
of the society, and urged upon the con-
sideration of the native the fact, that
“The Lord loveth a cheerful giver.”
The man was deeply chagrined at the
unyielding refusal of the treasurer.
in Tahiti, on a similar occasion, a per-
son brought a quantity of cocca-nut oil
to Pomare, in a like bad spirit, exclaim-
ing, “ Here are are five bamboos of oil,

take them for your society.” “No,”
said the king, “ I will not mix your
angry bamboos with the missionary oil,
take them away.”
Are no dollars cast into the treasury
of the Lord with a wron spirit’.Z
(u) HENRY PALMER, OR THE
MISSIONARY AND THE SOL-
DIER.—A writer in the London Re-
cord, in urging the duty of ministers of
the Gospel in England to volunteer as
missionaries to Canada, relates the
anecdote which we give below, with the
following preamble : “ I have often felt
wounded and grieved, by hearing the
privations of missionaries much harped
upon. Soldiers and sailors go to inhos-
pitable climes at the call of duty-—
neither whining nor simpering is set up
for them; a merchant also crosses
boisterous seas, in pursuit of honorable
trade, perchance ; but as soon as a
minister leaves home for a foreign field
of labor, immediately do we hear of his
self-devotedness, and a puling sympathy
is extorted for the self-denying man.
Surely this is not right.”
“Some years since, the late much
esteemed Charles Macarthy, Governor
of Sierra Leone, being in England and
much in want of faithful men to labor
in that sickly climate, when there had
just been a great mortality among the
missionaries, attended the Committee
of the Church of England Society in
London, and thus in substance address-
ed them :—--‘ Gentleman, I need not tell
you how many of your zealous and
devoted missionaries have recently
fallen a sacrifice to the deadly climate
of Sierra Leone; and it grieves me to
find that you have not on your list any
volunteers to supply the place of those
men of God who have just been cut off
by disease. But, gentlemen, I have
just been at the Horse Guards, and on
inquiring there whether there were any
ofiicers ready to proceed to that sickly
station, a list containing several hundred
names was immediately handed to me
of individuals anxious to accompany me
on my return; and is it possible that
there is not one man in England willing
to go forth with his life in his hand to
preach the gospel to the poor perishing
negroes ‘Z’ A young fr end who had
548
ZEAL FOR
MISSIONS. 286

ieft the army, where he had greatly
distinguished himself, and had studied
for the ministry, was sitting in a retired
nart of the room; the words of Sir
Charles reached his heart; he offered
nimself and was accepted, as a mis-
sionary under that Society, and soon
after proceeded to Sierra Leone, where,
through his instrumentality, a goodly
number of poor negroes were turned
from the service of dumb idols to that of
the liviving and true God, who learned to
bless the name of Henry Palmer while
he lived, and who doubtless will be his
crown of rejoicing throughout eternity.”
(*0) DR. CAREY’S LABORS.—-Dr.
Carey completed the translation of the
entire Scriptures, in seven of the prin-
cipal languages of India, viz., the
Sungskit, the Bengalee, the Hindu, the
Ooria, the Mahratta, the Panjabee, and
the Assamese. In addition, he com-
pleted the translation of the New Testa-
ment intwenty-two more, and portions
of both Testaments in several others,
besides superintending the printing of
the translations in other languages still.
These early translations made in the
first stages of acquaintance with the
languages of the East, were necessarily
very imperfect; but they show what a
single individual may accomplish in
very difficult circumstances, under the
influence of the love of souls, when it
becomes the master passion.
(w) CAREY, MARSHMAN, AND
’WARD’S DONATIONS.-—-Those who
are most intimately acquainted with
missions, set the highest estimate on
their importance. Missionaries, as all
must admit, are best qualified to form a
correct judgment in reference to the
value of the means employed, to bless
and save the heathen around them. And
they are willing to sacrifice the enjoy-
ments of refined society-—to live an
exile from kindred, and friends, and
home-—to suffer poverty, shame, im-
prisonment, and even death, in order to
carry forward the work in which they
are engaged. If their situation is such
that they can acquire property in con-
nection with their labors, they are ready
to lay it out in behalf of the mission to
which they are attached. For instance,
the Rev. Messrs. Carey, Marshman, and

Ward, (missionaries at Calcutta and
Serampore,) each of them gave about
£1500, in all about $20,000 a year,
which they acquired by their printing
establishment, to be expended in efforts
for the spiritual welfare of the pagans
around them.
GOOD REASON FOR SELL-
ING A FARM.—Near the close of a
Missionary meeting at Syracuse, N. Y.
a minister made the following state-
ment :——A member of his church, when
first commencing business in the world,
had purchased a dairy farm, for which,
by industry and economy, he had been
able to pay all the purchase money, and
on which he continued to thrive. It
was, however, remote from any village,
and the enjoyment of the religious and
social privileges could only be procured
by considerable effort. In due time an-
other farm was purchased, more favor-
ably situated and furnished with much
more convenient and pleasant buildings,
to which they removed. This farm was
also paid for, and a third purchased.
During all this time his contributions
for benevolent purposes were very small,
and all solicitation was met by him
with the plea that he was in debt.
Nevertheless, he and his companion
were under the influence of religious
principle, and frequently conversed with
each other respecting a return to the old
dairy farm, in order that, by the sale of
one of the others, they might be in better
circumstances to aid the cause of Christ.
These discussions, however, always
terminated adversely to any change, by
the recollection, that they were occupy-
ing a very comfortable home, surround-
ed with all the enjoyments of life, and
the old farm house was dilapidated and
remote from every enjoyment.
This good couple were at the mission-
ary meeting until the morning of the
last day, when it became necessary for
them to return home. On parting with
their pastor, the brother said to him, ‘* I
wish you to understand that I have now
fully determined to sell one of my farms
immediately. I have become con-
vinced at this meeting, that it is my
duty. After hearing what I have of
the spiritual necessities of our country,
I can no longer be voluntarily in debt, so
549
286,287
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE ‘OF.

as to prevent my doing my duty in the
cause of Christ.” “And I,” said his
weeping wife, “have become equally
convinced of my duty ;. we conversed
on this subject late last night, and are
agreed as to what we shall do. I am
now willing to part with all the com-
forts of our present home, if necessary,
and return to the dairy farm and make
cheese as long as I live, that I may be
able to do something in spreading the
gospel of Christ.”
The effect of this relation was power-
ful. Few who heard it could refrain
from tears, or fail to resolve that they
would attempt, by some means, more
effectually to aid the good cause.
(y) THE KAREN VVOMAN’S
RUPEE.—Mr. Kincaid records the fol-
lowing touching incident, in his journal
in the Magazine for November, 1841 :—
Some time since, I went to the house
of an aged female who worshiped God.
For several months_she had been unable
to leave the house, and is fast wearing
out with consumption. She has four
children, but one is blind and another
is deaf. She is very poor too. The
house might have been worth fifteen
rupees, and all there was in it fifteen
more. She could talk but little, on ac-
count of her cough, but expressed great
anxiety for the eternal welfare of her
children. After about an hour spent
in conversation and prayer, I rose up to
take leave, when the poor old woman
bid me remain a little longer. She
crept along to another part of the house,
and returning soon, she put into my
hand a rupee. I could not comprehend
what she meant, and said, what is to be
done with this'2 “ This is very little,”
she replied, “ but it is all I have, and
it is to help in the cause of Christ.”

-_
“ But you are old, anl infirm, and poor.’
“ Yes, but I love Christ, and this is very
little.” Surely, I thought, here. in the
midst 0“ poverty and decrepitude, is a
converted heathen, exercising the en-
lightened faith which works by love,
purifies the heart, and overcomes the
world. For days I could not cease re-
flecting on the expression, “This is to
help the cause of Christ.” When I
thought of the withered hand, and
wrinkled face of her who gave it. tnat
rupee was magnified a thousand times
beyond its real value.
The same rupee was brought to this
country, and its exhibition by agents of
benevolent societies, in connection with
the above affecting incident, has an ak-
ened in thousands of hearts, a deeper
interest in missions, holier emotions, and
firmer purposes of Christian benevo-
lence.
(z) JOHN WESLEY’S REPLY
TO THE UNBELIEVER.—When
John Wesley was about going to Georgia
as a Missionary to the Indians, an un-
believer said to him, “What is this,
sir’.2 are you one of the knights-errant '2
How, pray, got Quixotism into your
head ’2 You want nothing : you have a
good provision for life, and in a way of
preferment: and must you leave all to
fight windmills--to convert savages in
America '2” He answered willingly
and calmly, “Sir, if the Bible be not
true, I am as very a fool and madman
as you can conceive; but, if it is of
God, I am sober-minded. For he has
declared, ‘There is no man who hath
left house, or friends, or brethren, for
the kingdom of God’s sake, who shall
not receive manifold more in the present
time, and in the world to come everlast-
ing life.’ ”
287. MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF.
(a) ALFRED THE GREAT AND
HIS ALPHABET.——Alfred the Great
had reached his twelfth year before he
had even learned his alphabet. An in-
teresting anecdote is told of the occa-
sion on which he was first prompted to
apply himself to books. His mother

had shown him and lie brothers a small
volume, illuminated in different places
with colored letters, and such other em-
bellishments as were then in fashion.
Seeing that it excited the admiration of
her children, she promised that she
would give it to the boy who should
550
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF.
first learn to read it. Alfred, though
the youngest, was the only one who had
spirit enough to attempt obtaining it on
such a condition. He immediately
went and procured a teacher, and in a
very short time was able to claim the
promised reward. When he came to the
throne, notwithstanding his manifold
duties, and a tormenting disease, which
seldom allowed him an hour’s rest, he
employed his leisure time either in read-
ing or hearing the best books. His
high regard for the best interests of the
people he was called to govern, and the
benevolence of his conduct, are well
known.
(Z2) DODDRIDGE AND THE
DUTCH TlLES.——-It is related of Mrs.
Doddridge, that, when her son Philip
was quite a little boy, she used to teach
him Scripture history from the Dutch
tiles of the fireplace, on which there
were pictures of subjects taken from the
Bible. Philip never forgot those early
instructions, and probably to them, un-
der God, his future usefulness may be
traced.
(0) PIOUS MOTI-IER’S PRODI-
GAL SON .—-A pious mother had a
prodigal son. He was about to leave
her and go to sea. As a last resource,
she placed a Bible in his chest, with a
prayer to God for his blessing upon it.
Year after year passed away, and no-
thing was heard of the wanderer. But
the eye of his mother’s God was upon
him. A long time after, a clergyman
was called to visit a dying sailor. He
found him penitent and prepared to die.
He had in his possession a Bible, which
he said, was given to him by a dying ship-
mate, who, expiring in the hope of the
glory of God, gave it to him with his
parting blessing. On the blank leaf was
found written the name of John Marshall,
the pious mother’ s prodigal son. He was
the brother of Mrs. Isabella Graham,
Whose interesting memoirs have profit-
ed man y readers.
(Li) THE SAILOR’S DYING MO-
THER.-—-During the last illness of a
pious mother, when she was near death,
her only remaining child, the subject of
many agonizing and believing prayers,
Who had been roving on the sea, returned
to pay his parent a visit.

287
After a very affecting meeting, “ You
are neat port, mother,” said the hardy-
looking sailor, “ and I hope you will
have an abundant entrance.”
“Yes, my child, the fair haven is in
sight, and seen, very soon I shall he
landed
‘ On that peaceful shore,
Where pilgrims meet to part no more.’ ”
“ You have weathered many astorm in
your passage, mother; but now God is
dealing very graciously with you, by
causing the winds to cease, and by giving
you a calm at the end of your voyage.”
“ God has always dealt graciously
with me, my son : but this last expres-
sion of his kindness, in permitting me to
see you before I die, is so unexpected,
that it is like a miracle wrought in an-
swer to prayer.”
“O mother!” replied the sailor,
weeping as he spoke, “your prayers
have been the means of my salvation,
andl am thankful that your life has
been spared till I could tell you of it.”
She listened with devout composure
to the account of his conversion, and
at last, taking his hand, she pressed it
to her dying lips, and said, “ Yes, thou
art a faithful God l and as it hath
pleased thee to bring back my long-lost
child, and adopt him into thy family, I
will say, ‘Now lettest thou thy servant
depart in peace; for mine eyes have
seen thy salvation.’ ”
(6) NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO
SLEEP.—-A venerable minister, in
New Hampshire, lodging at the house
of a pious friend, observed the mother
teach some short prayers and hymns to
her children. “ Madam,” said he, “your
instructions may be of far more impor-
tance than you are aware : my mother
taught me a little hymn when a child,
and it is of use to me to this day, I
never close my eyes to rest, without
first saying,
‘ N ow I lay me down to sleep,
I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep
If I should die before I wake,
I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take.’ ”
THE SICK SAILOR AND
HIS MOTHER.--A clergyman, at a
public religious meeting, related the fol-
lowing anecdote, illustrative of the pew-
er of practical maternal faith:
551
287
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF.

He was at the time the seamen’s
chaplain, at a southern port. In the
course of duty, he was called to the
sick bed of a sailor, apparently at the
gates of death from the effects of his
licentiousness. He addressed him
affectionately t pen the state of his soul.
With an oath, the sick man bid him be-
gone, and not harass his dying bed.
The chaplain, however, told him plainly
he would speak, and he must hear, for
his soul was in danger of eternal death.
The man, however, remained sullen and
silent, and even pretended to sleep, du-
ring his faithful address and prayer.
Again and again the visit was repeated
with similar ill success. One day,
however, the sick man made use of an
expression, by which the chaplain sus-
pected he was a Scotchman. To ascer-
tain the fact, the chaplain repeated a
verse of that version of the Psalms,
still in use among the churches in Scot-
land:
“ Such pity as a father hath
Unto his children dear,
Like pity shows the Lord to such
As worship him in fear.”
The chords of his heart vibrated to
the well known language. Tears came
into his eyes. The chaplain improved
his advantage. Knowing the univer-
sality of religious instruction among
the Scotch, he ventured an allusion to
his mother. The poor prodigal burst
into tears. He admitted himself to be
the child of a praying mother, who had
Jften commended him to God. He had
left her long before, to become a wan-
derer on the face of the great deep.
No longer he repelled the kind atten-
tions of the chaplain ; and after his re-
covery, his instructor had the satisfaction
of seeing him give evidence that he was
a humble, penitent child of God.
(g) I’LL GO TO THE MEETING.
—Mr. Abbott relates, in his “ MOTHER
AT HOME," that a gentleman in one of
the most populous cities of America,
was once going to attend a seamen’s
meeting in the Mariners’ Chapel. Di-
rectly opposite that place there was a
sailors’ boarding-house. In the door-
way sat a hardy weather-beaten sailor,
with arms folded and puffing a cigar,

watching the people as they gradually
assembled for worship. The gentle.
man walked up to him, and said,
“WI/ell, my friend, won’t you go with
us to meeting?” “No,” said tne
sailcr bluntly. The gentleman, who,
from the appearance of the man, was
prepared for a repulse, mildly replied,
“ You look, my friend, as though you
had seen hard days: have you a mo-
ther '2” The sailor raised his head,
looked earnestly in the gentleman’s face,
and made no reply.
The gentleman, however, continued:
“ Suppose your mother were here now,
what advice would she give you ?"
The tears rushed into the eyes of the
poor sailor; he tried for a moment to
conceal them, but could not ; and hastily
brushing them away with the back of
his rough hand, rose and said, with a
voice almost inarticulate through emo-
tion, “I’l] go to the meeting.” He
crossed the street, entered the door of
the chapel, and took his seat with the
assembled congregation.
(h) GREAT TRUTHS EARLY
COMMUNICATIED.——The mother of
Dr. Samuel Johnson was a woman of
great good sense and piety : and she was
the means of early impressing religious
principles on the mind of her son. He
used to say, that he distinctly remem-
bered having had the first notice of
heaven, “ a place to which good people
go,” and hell,“ a place to which had
people go,” communicated to him by
her, when a little child in bed with her ;
and that it might be the better fixed in
his memory, she sent him to repeat it to
her man-servant. The servant being
out of the way, this was not done; but
there was no occasion for any artificial
aid for its preservation. VV hen the
doctor related this circumstance, he ad-
ded, “that children should be always
encouraged to tell what they hear, that
is particularly striking, to some brother,
sister, or servant, immediately before
the impression is erased by the inter-
vention of new occurrences.”
(2') PIOUS MOTHERS AND MIN.
ISTERS.—-Several young men who
were associated in preparing for the
Christian ministry, felt interested in as-
certaining what pronortion of their num-
552
MOTHERS, PIOUS, INFLUENCE OF.
_-—-.-
ber had pious mothers. They were
greatly surprised and delighted in find-
ing that, out of one hundred and twenty
students, more than a hundred had been
blessed by a mother’s prayers, and di-
rected by a mother’s counsels to the
Savior. Though some of these had
broken away from all the restraints of
nome, and, like the prodigal, had wan-
dered in sin and sorrow, yet they could
not forget the impressions of childhood,
and each was eventually brought to
Jesus, and proved a mother’s joy and
blessing.
) SPOT WHERE MY MOTHER
KNEELED. —Every one who has
thought on the subject, must know how
great is the influence of the female char-
acter, especially in the sacred relations
of wife and mother. I have a vivid re-
collection, says the Rev. R. Knill, in
his MEMOIR or Mas. LOVELESS, of the
effects of maternal influence. My hon-
ored mother was a religious woman,
and she watched over and instructed
me as pious mothers are accustomed to
do. Alas! I often forgot her admoni-
tions ; but, in my most thoughtless days
I never lost the impressions which her
holy example had made on my mind.
After spending a large portion of my
life in foreign lands, I returned again to
visit my native village. Both my pa-
rents died while I was in Russia, and
their house is now occupied by my
brother. The furniture remains just
the same as when I was a boy, and at
night I was accommodated with the same
bed in whichl had often slept before ,
but my busy thoughts would not let me
sleep. I was thinking how God had led
me through the journey of life. At
last, the light of the morning darted
‘through the little window, and then my
eye caught a sight of the spot where
my sainted mother, forty years before,
took my hand and said, “Come, my
dear, kneel down with me, and I will
go to prayer.” This completely ever-
came me. Iseemed to hear the very
tones of her voice. I recollected some
of her expressions, and I burst into
tears, and arose from my bed, and fell
upon my knees just on the spot where
my mothe' kneeled, and thanked God
that I had "108 a praying nother. And

287
oh! if every parent could feel what]
felt then, I am sure they would pray
with their children as well as pray for
them.
(It) RANDOLPII SAVED FROM
ATHEISM.-—John Randolph, the ec-
centric but influential statesman, once
addressed himself to an intimate friend
in terms something like the following:
—“I used to be called a Frenchman,
because I took the French side in poli-
tics; and though this was unjust, yet
the truth is, I should ha~ 0 been a French
atheist, if it had not been for one recol-
lection, and that was, the memory of the
time when my departed mother used to
take my little hands in hers, and cause
me on my knees to say, ‘ Our Father
which art in heaven.’ ”
(Z) THE MOTHER’S HAND.-—
When 1 was a little child, said a good
man, my mother used to bid me kneel
beside her, and to place her hand upon
my head while she prayed. Beforel
was old enough to know her worth, she
died, and I was left much to my own
guidance. Like others, I was inclined
to evil passions, but often felt myself
checked, and, as it were, drawn back’
by the soft hand on my head. When I
was a young man, I traveled in foreign
lands, and was exposed to many temp-
tations ; but, when I would have yielded,
that same hand seemed to be upon my
head and I was saved. I appeared to feel
its pressure as in the days of my happy
infancy, and sometimes there came
with it a voice in my heart-—a voice that
must be obeyed——“ Oh, do not this
wickedness, my son, nor sin against thy
God.”
(m) A MOTHER CONSTANT IN
PRAYER.—-In the vicinity of Phila-
delphia, there was a pious mother, who
had the happiness of seeing her children
in very early life, brought to the know-
ledge of the truth ; walking in the fear
of the Lord, and ornaments in the Chris
tian church. A clergyman, who was
traveling, heard this circumstance
respecting this mother, and wished very
much to see her, thinking that there
might be something peculiar in her
mode of giving instruction, which ren-
dered it so effectual. He accordingly
visited her, and inquired respecting thcl
553
287
MOTHERS, PIUUS, INFLUENCE OF.

manner in which she discharged the
duties of a mother in educating her
children. The woman replied, that she
did not know that she had been more
faithful than any Christian mother would
be, in the religious instruction of her
children. After a little conversation,
she said, “ While my children were in-
fants on my lap, as I washed them,I
raised my heart to God, that he would
wash them in that blood which cleans-
eth from all sin; as I clothed them in
the morning, I asked my heavenly
Father to clothe them with the robe of
Christ’s righteousness; as I provided
them food, I prayed that God would
feed their souls with the bread of heaven
and give them to drink of the water of
life. When I have prepared them for
the house of God, I have pleaded that
their bodies might be fit temples for the
Holy Ghost to dwell in. When they
left me for the week-day school, I fol-
.owed their infant footsteps with a pray-
er, that their path through life might be
like that of the just, which shineth
more and more unto the perfect day.
And as I committed them to the rest of
the night, the silent breathing of my
soul has been, that their heavenly
Father would take them to his embrace,
and fold them in his paternal arms.’
(n) A MOTHER’S USEFULNESS
THROUGH HER POSTERITY.-—
E—-H— was born in Massachusetts, in
1737. His parents carefully instructed
him in the principles of the Gospel.
His father was an eminently godly man,
but naturally of a very hasty spirit.
His mother was remarkable for Chris-
tian meekness, and was his principal
religious instructor. When a child he
was accustomed to pray that he “ might
possess the grace of his father and the
meekness of his mother.” At the age
of seven he gave evidence of being
born again. His whole life was emi-
mently devoted to God. In the things
of this world he was poor, but in Chris-
tian character and influence rich.
Having for some time sustained the
oflice of deacon of a church in B—,
and afterwards of a church in P--,
Vermont, at the earnest solicitation of
the latter he obtained license to preach,
and entered on the pastoral office, which

M
he reputably sustained more than twen .y
years. The church, while under his
care, experienced repeated seasons of
“refreshing from the presence of the
Lord,” and large accessions. Many
bore joyful testimony to the powerful
influence in favor of godliness every
where exerted by him as he moved on
in his Master’s work. Especially in
his family do we find striking proof of
the benefits of the early religious train-
ing he himself received under the in-
structions of his mother. He had ten
children who came to mature age ;
three sons and seven daughters. Nine
of them gave evidence of piety. The
tenth was not pious. This child was
put to a trade at the usual age, where
nothing like a Christian influence was
exerted over him, and his habits be-
came vicious. The children of Mr. H.
reared sixty children, thirty-sin of whom
were known to have made a Christian
profession ; nearly all between the ages
of ten and twenty.
(0) THE CONVERTED STU.
DENTS AND THEIR MOTHER.
-—“ In a college of ,” says a cor.
respondent of the N. Y. Evangelist of
1831, “there has lately been an exten-
sive revival. Having myself a praying
mother, it occurred to me to inquire of
the subjects of the revival, whether their
mothers were pious. I did so, and found
that scarcely one sinner was brought in-
to the fold of Christ, who was not bless-
ed with a pious, prayerful mother. This
is a fact, and oh! that mothers would
let it make the proper impression on
their hearts.”
(p) THE YOUNG INFIDEL AND
HIS MOTHER.—“ Where parental in-
fluence does not convert,” says Richard
Cecil, “ it hampers—it hangs on the
wheels of evil. I had a pious mother,
who dropped things in my way—I could
never rid myself of them. I was a pro-
fessed infidel ; but thenI liked to be an
infidel in company, rather than when
alone—-I was wretched when by my-
self. These principles and maxims
spoiled my pleasure. With my com-
panions I would sometimes stifle them ;
like embers, we kept one another warm.
Besides, I was a sort of hero; I had be-
guiled several of my associates into my

554
1MURDERERS
287, 288

opinions, and I had to maintain a charac-
ter before them: but I could not divest
myself of my better principles. I went
with one of my companions to see .
he could laugh heartily, but I could not:
the ridicule on regeneration was high
sport to him--to me it was none ; it
could not move my features. He knew
no difi"erence between regeneration and
transubstantiation—-I did. I knew there
was such a thing. Iwas afraid and
ashamed to laugh at it. Parental in-
fluence thus cleaves to a man—it ha-
asses him—it throws itself constantly
1n his way.”
MY MOTHER’S PRAYERS
AND COUNSELS.—A young man,
on whose mind the doctrines of religion
nad been early impressed by his pious
mother’s instructions, at length went to
sea, and became an abandoned and mis-
erable creature. He was thrown into
prisons and workhouses, and into dens
of wretchedness and vice: but into all
-.hese places his faithful mother followed
him with her prayers and tears, till she
died, leaving him in prison, convicted
of crime. Here he was an object of so
much dread, that not one of the keepers
ventured to approach him alone. In
about six months, however, the tiger
began to grow tame, and his inquiry
was, “ What shall I do to be saved ?”
Mr. Bradford questioned him about his
feelings, and he informed him, that for
two months he had paced his room, with
sleepless nights, in agony and remorse,
save when exhausted nature would
sometimes overcome his horrible con-
victions. Mr. B. inquired what partic-
ular cause had led him to his present
feelings. He replied, “ My mother’s
prayers and counsels! Her last words
to me were, ‘ William, there is no other
name given under heaven among men,

whereby you can be saved, but the name
of Jesus Christ.’ ” His mother’s prayers
were answered, and this man became a
consistent follower of the Lamb.
(r) THE AGED PRISONER AND
HIS DECEASED MOTHER.-The
chaplain of the prison at VVeathersfield
says:
“ A man of fifty, who has been a
wanderer over almost the whole earth,
and a partaker in almost every sin that
can be named, and who has also met
with much which we should think was
calculated to make him solemn, told me
that nothing in his whole life ha. ever
made him feel serious, but what it s mo-
ther said to him just before her death.
She resided in Trenton, New Jersey,
and was a sincere, warm-hearted Chris-
tian. VVhen she found herself dying,
she sent for her son, then a lad of twelve
years old, to come to her chamber. As
he approached her bed, she took his
hand, and spoke to him with maternal
tenderness and fidelity. Telling him she
must soon leave him, she earnestly be-
sought him by every moving considera-
tion, so to love the Savior, and so to take
care of his soul, as to meet her in hea-
ven. She continued to clasp his hand
until hers became cold in death. For
nearly half a century afterwards, this
man was pressing onwards through a
course of crime, too revolting for de-
scription. Yet he assured me, that
amidst his lowest and darkest descents
into the vortex of sin, he could never
utterly drive from his mind the last
words of his mother, and was never able
to think of them without solemn emotion.
This struck me with some surprise, and
appeared to me a remarkable proof of
the deep and lasting impression a pious
mother may make upon the mind of her
child.”
MURDERERS.
Q88. Misery, Detection and Punishment of.
(a) REV. E. ERSKINE AND THE
MURDERER.-The Rev. Ebenezer
Erskine, after traveling, at one time,
toward the end of the Week, from Port-
moak to the banks of the Forth, on his
way to Edinburgh, was, with several
others, prevented by a storm from cross-
ing that frith. Thus obliged to remain
in Fife during the Sabbath, he was em-
ployed to preach, it is believed, in King
-v
0
OD
D
288
MURDERERS.
horn. Conformably to his usual prac-
tice, he prayed earntstly in the morning
for the Divine countenance and aid in
the work of the day; but suddenly
missing his note-book, he knew not
what to do. His thoughts, however,
were directed to the command, “ Thou
shalt not kill ;” and having studied the
subject with as much care as the time
would permit, he delivered a short ser-
men on it in the forenoon. Having re-
tt rned to his lodging, he gave strict in-
junctions to the servant that no one
should be allowed to see him during the
interval of worship. A stranger, how-
ever, who was also one of the persons
detained by the state of the weather, ex-
pressed an earnest desire to see the min-
ister; and having with difficulty ob-
tained admittance, appeared much agi-
tated, and asked him, with great ea-
gerness, whether he knew him, or had
ever seen or heard of him. On receiv-
ing assurance that he was totally unac-
quainted with his face, character, and
history, the gentleman proceeded to state,
that his sermon on the sixth command-
ment had reached his conscience ; that
he was a murderer ; that being the sec-
ond son of a Highland laird, he had
some time before, from base and selfish
motives, cruelly sufibcated his elder
brother, who slept in the same bed with
him; and that now he had no peace of
mind, and wished to surrender himself
to justice, to suflfer the punishment due
to his horrid and unnatural crime. Mr.
Erskine asked him if any other person
knew any thing of his guilt. His an-
swer was, that so far as he was aware,
not a single individual had the least sus-
picion of it; on which the good man ex-
horted him to be deeply affected with a
sense of his atrocious sin, to make an
immediate application to the blood of
sprinkling, and to bring forth fruits meet
for repentance; but at the same time,
since, in providence, his crime had hith-
erto remained a secret, not to disclose
it, or give himself up to public justice.
The unhappy gentleman embraced this
well intended counsel in all its parts,
became truly pious, and maintained a
friendly correspondence with Mr. Ers-
kine in future life.

(I2) THE MURDERER AND HIS
SINGULAR WOUND.--A gentleman
who was very ill, sending for Dr. Lake,
of England, told him that he found he
must die, and gave him the following
account of the cause of his death. He
had, about a fortnight before, been rid-
ing over Hounslow-heath, where seve-
ral boys were playing at cricket. One
of them, striking the ball, hit him just
on the toe with it, looked him in the face,
and ran away. His toe pained him ex-
tremely. As soon as he came to Brent-
ford, he sent for a surgeon, who was for
cutting it off. But unwilling to suffer
that, he went on to London. VVhen he
arrived there, he immediately called an-
other surgeon to examine it, who told
him his foot must be cut off. But nei-
ther would he hear of this; and so, be-
fore the next day, the mortification seiz-
ed his leg, and in a day or two more
struck up into his body. Dr. Lake ask-
ed him, whether he knew the boy that
struck the ball? He answered, “A bout
ten years ago, I was riding over Houns-
low-heath, where an old man ran by my
horse’s side, begged me to relieve him,
and said he was almost famished. I
bade him be gone. He kept up with
me still; upon which I threatened to
beat him. Finding that he took no no-
tice of this, I drew my sword, and with
one blow killed him. A boy about four
years old, who was with him, screamed
out, ‘His father was killed I’ His face
I perfectly remember. ‘T hat boy it was
who struck the ball against me, which is
the cause of my death.”
(0) MURDER TRACED TO THE
RIGHT SOURCE.-—Nicholson, the
murderer of Mr. and Mrs. Bonar, at
Chiselhurst, in Kent, who paid the for-
feit of his life to the violated laws of his
country, declared solemnly in writing,
after sentence of death was passed upon
him, that he had no previous malice
towards the parties, nor intention to
murder them, five minutes before he
committed the horrid deed ; but that
suddenly, as he awoke, the thought sug-
gested itself to his mind, and which he
can only account for by confessing,
“that he had long lived in utter forget-
fulness of God, and was in the habit of
553
MISERY, DETECTION, AND PUNISHMENT OF.
288

giving way to the worst passions of the
human heart.” ‘
(cl) MURDER REVEALED BY A
DOG.-Mr. Clarke relates an account
of two French merchants, who were
traveling to a fair, and while passing
through a wood, one of them murdered
the other, and robbed him of his money.
After burying him, to prevent discovery,
he proceeded on his journey. The dog
of the person murdered remained, how-
ever, by the grave of his master; and,
by his loud and continued howling, at-
tracted the notice of several persons in
the neighborhood, who, by this means,
discovered the murder. The fair being
ended, they watched the return of the
merchants. The murderer no sooner
appeared in view, than the dog sprung
furiously upon him. He was appre-
hended, confessed the crime, and was
executed.
(e) MURDER REVEALED BY A
N AIL.——When Dr. Donne, afterwards
dean of St. Paul’s, took possession of
the first living he ever had, he walked
into the churchyard as the sexton was
digging a grave; and on l1lS throwing
up a soul], the doctor took it into his
hands to indulge in serious contempla-
tion. On looking at it, he found a head-
less nail sticking in the temple, which
he secretly drew out, and wrapped it in
the corner of his handkerchief. He
then asked the grave-digger whether he
knew whose skull it was’? He said he
did ; adding, it had been a man’s who
had kept a brandy shop ; a drunken fel-
low, who, one night, having taken two
quarts of ardent spirits. was found dead
in his bed the next morning. “ Had he
a wife '2” “Yes.” “ Is she living ?”
“Yes.” “What character does she
bear '2” “ A very good one ; only her
neighbors reflect on her because she
married the day after her husband was
l)1l1‘I6( .” This was enough for the doc-
tor, who, in the course of visiting his
parishioners, called on her: he asked
her several questions, and, among others,
of what sickness her husband died. She
giving him the same account, he sud-
tienly opened the handkerchief, and
cried, in an authoritative voice, “ “To-
man, do you know this nail ?” She was
struck with horror at this unexpected

question, instantly acknowle ilged that
she had murdered her husband, and was
afterwards tried and executed.
MURDERER DETECTED
BY HIS OWN REMARK.—How
many murders have been disclosed af-
ter the lapse of years, and the perpe-
trators of them brought to condign pun-
ishment! Of this, the case of Fugene
Aram, of Knaresborough, is a remark-
able instance. Descended from an an-
cient Yorkshire family, he had cultivat-
ed his talents with so much care, that
he acquired a knowledge of Latin,
Greek, Hebrew, and Chaldee, and was
conversant with history, antiquity, bota-
ny, and poetry ; but he associated with
low and depraved company, and in con-
junction with Daniel Clark, a shoemak-
er, and Richard Housman, a flax-dress
er, it was agreed to make use of Clark’s
credit to borrow a quantity of silver
plate and other valuables from their
neighbors, and then to abscond. Hav-
ing accomplished their object, they met
on the evening of February 7, 1744, to
make a division ; and either to prevent
detection, or to increase their own share
of the plunder, Aram and Housman
murdered Clark, and concealed his body
in St. Robert’s Cave. No trace of the
perpetrators of the deed occurred till
fourteen years afterwards, when a skel-
eton was discovered at Thistle Hill, near
Knaresborough, which was at first sup-
posed to be Clark’s. Housman, who
was then living, rejected the supposi-
tion, and taking up one of the bones,
said, “ This is no more one of Daniel
Clark’s bones than it is mine.” Suspi-
cion was immediately excited against
Housman, who at length confessed his
participation in the murder, bu‘. that
Aram was the perpetrator. Aram, who
at that time resided at Lynn, in Nor-
folk, was forthwith apprehended, tried,
and executed. What an illustration of
the text, “ Be sure thy sin will find thee
out!”
(g) REMARKABLE DISCOVERY
OF FRATRICIDE.—ln the beginning
of 1815, a circumstance took place that
excited much interest in Paris. A sur-
geon in the army, named Dautun, was
arrested at a gambling house, in the
Palais Royal, on the testimonv of a scar
557
288
MURDERERS.
_—__-—--.-
~.-
on his wrist. Some time before, the
nflicers of the night had found, while
passing their rounds, in the different
parts of the city, four parcels tied up.
One contained the head, another the
trunk, a third the thighs, and a fourth
the legs and arms of a man. In the
teeth, tightly comoressed, was a piece
of human flesh, apparently torn out in
the dying struggle. The parts were
collected, and put together in their regu-
lar order, and exhibited for a number
of days at the Morgue. The mystery
which enveloped this dark transaction
excited considerable interest, and num-
bers went to view the corpse. The
general conviction was, that the deceas-
ed must have been murdered; but for
a number of weeks no light was thrown
upon the circumstance. When the
body could not be kept any longer, a
cast in plaster was taken, fully repre-
senting the murdered victim, which re-
mained for some time exposed to the
public. Dautun happened to be en-
gaged in gambling at the Palais Royal ;
he played high and lost: calling for li-
quor, and being angry because the wait-
er was somewhat tardy, Dautun emp-
tied the glass and threw it at him. It
was shivered into a thousand pieces, one
of which entered into Dautun’s wrist
under the cuff of his coat. The spec-
tators gathered round, and learning the
accident, wished to see the gash; he
drew down his ;1eeve, and firmly press-
ed it round his wrist; they insisted on
seeing it, he obstinately refused. By
this course the bystanders were led to
suppose that something mysterious was
involved in this conduct, and they de-
termined at all events to see his wrist.
By force they pushed up his sleeve, and
a scar recently healed, as if made by
tearing out of flesh, appeared. The
landlord had been at the Morgue, had
seen the murdered man with the flesh
between the teeth, and it struck him in
a moment that the flesh was torn from
this man’s wrist. Charging them to
keep him safe, he hastened to call in
the legal authorities, and arm sted him.
Dautun afterwards confessed, hat being
quartered at Sedan, and without money,
he came to Paris to try some adventure.
Knowing .har his brother had a large

sum by him, directly on his arrival he
went to his lodgings, in a retired part
of the city, about eight in the evening.
He entered the house, unnoticed by the
porter, and passing to his apartment,
found his brother asleep. He immedi-
ately commenced his work of death;
his brother waking up, defended him-
self, but being in a feeble state of health,
he was speedily overpowered. In the
struggle he tore out the flesh. Being
killed, Dautu: cut up the body, tied it
up in four parc-: s as before mentioned,
secured the money, and retired.
He also confessed, that eleven months
before this he had murdered a11 aunt,
who was living with a second husband,
to obtain money. Her husband was ar-
rested and imprisoned for a number of
months, but as nothing appeared to crim-
inate him, he had been discharged.
(h) MURDER DISCOVERED BY
GUN YVADDING.—-A M. Martin was
murdered at Bilguy in France, which
was soon after discovered in a most sin-
gular manner. The crime was com-
mitted on the 9th of February, on the
high road, at one o’clock in the after-
noon. The shot entered M. Martin’s
heart, and he fell down dead. He was
returning from collecting, and had only
130 francs about him, of which he was
robbed, as well as of his watch and ring.
The charge of the gun was rammed
down with a written paper. This had
been carefully taken up, and carried
away with the body. The writing was
still legible. On this piece of paper
there were words which are used in
glass manufactories, and a date of near-
ly fifteen years preceding. Upon this
single indication, the magistrate went to
the owner of the glass manufactory at
Bilguy, examined his books, and suc-
ceeded in finding an article relative to
the delivery of some glass, of which the
paper which had been found was the
bill of parcels. The suspicion imme-
diately fell on the son-in-law of this in-
dividual, who had been out of the coun-
try for ten years. Orders were given
to arrest the suspected person. When
the oflicers came“to him, he confessed
the deed on the spot, and even showed
where the watch and ring were, which
were found under the thatch of his house.
558
MISERY, DETECTION,
AND PUNISHMENT OF. 288

(Z) A MURDERER’S HORROR
OF MIND --Some years ago, a man
of the name of Cooper died in Glouces-
tershire. He had long endured great
horror of mind; and, about an hour
previous to his death, he mentioned the
cause of it, which was, that, about forty
years before, he had assisted another
man, of the name of Horton, who died
two years before Cooper, in murdering
one Mr. Rice, a surveyor of the roads,
whose body they threw into a well,
where it was found soon after; but the
murderers were not discovered till he
made them known.
GUILTY SAILORS DETECT-
ED.-—Some years ago, a ship, named
the Earl of Sandwich, sailed from Lon-
don to Vera Cruz, where she discharged
her lading. She then sailed to Oratavo,
and took in a cargo of wine, a quantity
of Spanish dollars, gold, jewels, &c.,
and sailed for London. On the voyage,
four of the crew combined to put the
rest of their companions to death, which
they at length effected in the most cruel
manner. When they had nearly reach-
ed VVaterford, they put their treasures
in a boat, and sunk the ship. They
now thought themselves secure, as the
dead could tell no tales, and no one
could search the bottom of the sea for
evidence. On landing, they buried the
bulk of their property in the sand, re-
serving a portion for present use. W’her-
ever they went, they were remarkable
for their prodigality, and the ship which
they had consigned to the sea, was cast
on shore near Waterford. This occa-
sioned much speculation ; and suspicion
pointed out the guilty parties, who were
living at Dublin in great gayety. They
were at length separately examined,
their guilt established, and due punish-
ment awarded.
(Ir) MURDERER AND PEAS-
ANT GIRL.—Judge Helmanots, in the
department of Lips, sent a peasant girl
with money to Golnitz. Not far from
that village, a countryman joined her,
and inquired where she was going’.2
She replied that she was going with
200 florins to Golnitz. He was going
there too, he said, and would accom-
pany her; and here he took a path
Which he stated would shorten their

journey two leagues. At length, ar-
riving at the brink of an excavation,
(once worked as a mine,) he stopped
short and cried out to the girl. “Be-
hold your grave ; give me the money
instantly.” She complied; but fell
down on her knees and prayed him to
spare her life. He refused, but hap-
pening to turn away his head, she
sprang upon him, threw him into the
cavity, and ran and told the villagers.
Several men returned with her, pro-
vided with ladders; and descending
into the hole, found the countryman
dead, with the money which he had
taken from the girl in his possession.
Near him lay three dead female
bodies in a state of putrefaction. It
is probable that these were victims to
the rapacity of the same villain. In a
girdle which he had round his body,
was discovered a sum of 800 florins in
gold.
(Z) A MILLER FOUND GUILTY
OF MURDER.——-In the early part of
the seventeenth century, a man near
Lutterworth, (Eng.,) was missing, and
immediately after a miller suddenly left
the neighborhood. About twenty years
afterwards, the miller returned to the
town to visit some friends, and the man
who then occupied the mill, having oc-
casion at that time to dig deep in the
ground adjoining the mill, discovered a
corpse. Attention was excited; suspi-
cion as to murder having been commit-
ted began to exist ; some of the old peo-
ple remembered the sudden disappear-
ance of their neighbor, and the hasty
manner in which the former miller had
left the town. This led to his appre-
hension, and on a close examination, he
acknowledged the murder, and received
the punishment of death.
(m) A DOG AND THE MUR.
DERER OF HIS MASTER.--The
fame of an English dog has been de-
servedly transmitted to posterity by a
monument in basso relievo, which
still remains on the chimney piece of
the grand hall at the castle of Montar-
gis, in France; the sculpture repre-
sents a dog fighting with a‘ e1ampion,
and was occasioned by the following cir-
cumstances :—
Aubri de Mondidier, a gentleman of
‘$39
288
MURDERERS.
family and fortune, traveling alone
through the forest of Bondi, was mur-
dered and buried under a tree. His
dog, an English bloodhound, would not
leave his master’s grave for several
days, till at length, compelled by hun-
ger. he went to the house of an intimate
friend of the unfortunate Aubri’s at
Paris, and by his melancholy howling
seemed desirous of expressing the loss
they had both sustained. He repeated
his cries, ran to the door, then looked
back to see if any one followed him, re-
turned to his master’s friend, pulled him
by the sleeve, and with dumb eloquence
entreated him to go with him.
The singularity of all the actions of
the dog ; his coming there without his
master, whose faithful companion he al-
ways had been ; the sudden disappear-
ance of his master; and, perhaps, that
divine dispensation of justice and events
which will not permit the guilty to re-
main long undetected, made the com-
pany resolve to follow the dog, who
conducted them to the tree, where he
renewed his howl, scratching the earth
with his feet, to signify that that was
the spot they should search. Accord-
ingly, on digging, the body of the un-
fortunate Aubri was found.
Some time after the dog accidentally
met the assassin, who is styled, by all
historians that relate this fact, the Cheva-
lier Macaire ; when, instantly seizing
him by the throat, it was with great
difficulty he was made to leave his prey.
Whenever he saw him after, the dog
pursued and attacked him with equal
fury. Such obstinate virulence in the
animal, confined only to Macaire, ap-
peared extraordinary to those persons
who recollected the dog’s fondness for
his master, and, at the same time, se-
veral instances wherein Maeaire had
displayed his envy and hatred to Aubri
de Mondidier.
Additional circumstances increased
suspicion, which at length reached the
royal ears. The king (Louis VIII.)
sent for the dog. He appeared extreme-
ly gentle, till, perceiving Macaire in the
midst of twenty noblemen, he ran di-
rectly tovrards him, growled, and flew
at him as usual.
In those times, when no positive proof

__ __
of a crime could be procured, an order
was issued for a combat between the
accuser and accused. These were de-
nominated the judgment of God, from a
persuasion that Heaven would sooner‘
work a miracle than suffer innocence to
perish with infamy.
The king, struck with such a collec-
tion of circumstantial evidence against
Macaire, determined to refer the deci-
sion to the chance of war ; or, in other
words, he gave orders for a combat be-
tween the chevalier and the dog. The
lists were appointed in the aisle of N otre
Dame, then an unenclosed, uninhabit-
ed place ; Macaire’s weapon was a
great cudgel.
The dog had an empty cask allowed
for his retreat, to recover breath. The
combatants being ready, the dog no
sooner found himself at liberty than he
ran round his adversary, avoiding his
blows, menacing him on every side, till
his strength was exhausted; then spring-
ing forward, he griped him by the
throat, threw him on the ground, and
forced him to confess his crime before
the king and the whole court. In con-
sequence of which the chevalier, after
a few days, was convicted on his own
acknowledgment, and beheaded on 3
scaffold in the aisle of N otre Dame.
The above curious recital, is trans.
Iated from the Ilfemoirs sur Zes Duels,
and is confirmed by many judicious
critical writers, particularly Julius Sea
liger and Montfaucon, neither of them
relators of fabulous stories.
(n) MURDERER DISCOVERED
BY A JOKE.—The Rev. H. G. Keene
states, in his “Persian Stories,” that
the following narrative was related by
a person of authority and reputation,
who was one of the party. A vessel
set sail from Bassorah to Ba dad, with
several passengers on boar . In the
course of the voyage, the sailors, by way
of a joke, put a man in irons as he lay
asleep, and he became a subject of di-
version to the Whole party, till they
drew near the capital. But when the
sailors wanted to let him loose, the key
was nowhere to be found, and after a
long and fruitless search, they were
compelled to send for a blacksmith to
knock off the fetters. When, however,
560
MISERY, DETECTION, AND PUNISHMENT OF.
288
the blacksmith came, he refused to do
what they wanted, till he had the autho-
rity of tie magistrate; for he thought
the man might be some criminal whom
the officers of justice had laid hold of,
and that his friends wished to favor his
escape. To the magistrates they ac-
cordingly went, who sent down one of his
attendants to see into it. But the officer,
when he had heard their story, and had
taken the evidence of some of the most
respectable among the passengers, shook
his head, and with a look of solemnity,
said, it was much too serious a case for
him to decide. So they repaired in a
body to the magistrate, and carried the
poor captive with them. So strange a
procession was sure to attract notice;
and a crowd soon collected about them,
each curious to know the prisoner’s of-
fence, and to catch a sight of him: till,
at length, one man, springing forward,
seized the captive by the throat, and ex-
claimed, “Here is the villain I have
been looking for these two years ; ever
since he robbed and murdered my poor
broth.-/r.” Nor would he quit his hold
till they came before the magistrate;
and the murder being clearly proved,
the man, who had been confined in joke
only, was given up to death, as a punish-
ment for the blood that he had shed.
(0) THE FATAL ELOPEMENT.
--A young lady, named D’Aumont, was
executed in the city of Lyons, for the
supposed murder of her uncle, the Che-
valier de la Poulone, with whom she had
lived in the most affectionate harmony
from her infantile years. Having con-
ceived a passion for a deserving young
oflieer quartered in the town, and be-
tween whom and the young lady a mu-
tual affection subsisted, she came to a
determination of eloping with him un-
known to her uncle, and only admitted
one female servant to her confidence.
It unfortunately happened, that the ser-
vant was leagued with a private soldier,
who meditated the plan of murdering
the chevalier, with a view of plunder-
ing the house, on me night the intend-
ed elopement should take place, in or-
der that the unhappy niece should be
judged the perpetrator of the horrid
deed, which was accordingly effected
With every degree of barbarity. The


young lady and the officer were imme-
diately pursued, taken, and committed
to prison. The former was tried, and
executed, on the false evidence of the
female servant, and the officer, her
husband, was cashiered, and sent to
the gallies for life.
Some time after, the servant being
taken ill, threatened to divulge the
whole matter before a magistrate; to
prevent which, the soldier, who had
married her, put an end to his wife’s
existence; but, at length, feeling sin-
cere remorse for these repeated mur-
ders, he voluntarily surrendered him-
self up to justice, confessed the whole
affair, and was publicly executed, amidst
the execrations of the enraged multi-
tude.
What adds to the dreadful recital is,
that the young lady who was executed,
was not less remarkable for her beauty,
than her unaffected piety, and sweet
simplicity of manners. A broken heart
soon terminated the existence of the
wretched officer, who died in six weeks
after the execution of the most amiable
sufferer, in the most excruciating tor-
tures.
(p) THE DOGS AND THE MUR.
DERERS.-—A laboring man of Tobol-
ski, in Siberia, who had deposited in a
purse of skin, which he were at his
breast, the hard-earned savings of his
life, was murdered by two of his com-
panions, for the sake of his little trea-
sure. The murderers escaped to a
neighboring forest followed by two dogs
belonging to the deceased, which would
not quit them. The wretches did every
thing to appease them, but in vain.
They then endeavored to kill them, but
the dogs were upon their guard, and
continued to howl dreadfully. Reduced
to despair, the murderers, at the end of
two days, returned to Krasnojarsk, and
delivered themselves into the hands of
justice.
(q) MURDER CONFESSEL N
A DREAM.-——The following is trans.
lated from a respectable publication at
Beisle, Switzerland :--
A person who worked in a brewery
quarreled with one of his fellow-work
men, and struck him in such a manner
that In died upon the spot. N0 othet
561
288
MURDERERS.
——-

.—
person was witness to the deed. He then
took the dead body and threw it into a
large fire under the boiling-vat, where
it was in a short time so completely con-
sumed, that no traces of its existence
remained. On the following day, when
the man was missed, the murderer ob-
served, very coolly, that he had per-
ceived his fellow-servant to have been
intoxicated, and that he had probably
fallen from a bridge which he had to
cross in his way home, and been drown-
ed. For the space of seven years after
no one entertained any suspicion of
the real state of the fact. At the end
of this period the murderer was again
employed in the same brewery. He
was then induced to reflect on the singu-
larity of the circumstance that his crime
had remained so long concealed. Hav-
ing retired one evening to rest, one of
the other workmen, who slept with him,
hearing him say in his sleep, “It is
now fully seven years ago,” asked him,
“ What was it you did seven years
ago '2” “I put him,” he replied, still
speaking in his sleep, “ under the boil-
ing-vat.” As the affair was not entire-
ly forgotten, it immediately occurred to
the man that his bedfellow must allude
to the person who was missing about
that time, and he accordingly gave in-
formation of what he had heard to a
magistrate. The murderer was appre-
hended; and though at first he denied
that he knew any thing of the matter,
a confession of his crime was at length
obtained from him, for which he suffer-
ed condign punishment.
(T) THE SERGEANT AND THE
DRUMMER BOY.—-Jarvis Mutcham
was pay-sergeant in a regiment, where
he was so highly esteemed as a steady
and accurate man, that he was permit-
ted opportunity to embezzle a consider-
able part of the money lodged in his
hands for the pay of soldiers, bounty
of recruits, then a large sum, and other
charges, which fell within his duty.
He was summoned to join his regiment
from a town where he had been on the
recruiting service, and this, perhaps,
under some shade of suspicion. Mutch-
am perceived discovery was at hand,
and would have deserted, had it not
been for the presence of a little drum-

mer lad, who was the only one of his
party appointed to attend him. In the
desperation of his crime, he resolved to
murder the poor boy, and avail himself
of some balance of money to make his
escape. He meditated this wickedness
the more readily, that the drummer, he
thought, had been put as a spy on him.
He perpetrated his crime, and, chang-
ing his dress after the deed was done,
made a long walk across the country to
an inn on the Portsmouth road, where
he halted, and went to bed, desiring to be
called when the first Portsmouth coach
came. The waiter summoned him ac-
cordingly ; but long after remembered,
that when he shook the guest by the
shoulder, his first words as he awoke
were, “ I did not kill him.” Mutcham
went to the seaport by the coach, and
instantly entered as an able-bodied
landsman or marine, I know not which.
II is sobriety and attention to duty gain-
ed him the same good opinion of the
officers, in his new service, which he
had enjoyed in the army. He was
afloat for several years, and behaved re-
markably well in several actions. At
length, the vessel came into Plymouth,
was paid off, and some of the crew,
among whom was Jarvis Mutcham, were
dismissed as too old for service. He
and another seaman resolved to walk to
town, and took the route by Salisbury.
It was when within two or three miles
of that celebrated city, that they were
overtaken by a tempest, so sudden, and
accompanied with such vivid lightning,
and thunder so fearfully loud, that the
obdurate conscience of the old sinner
began to be awakened. He expressed
more terror than seemed natural for one
who was familiar with the war of ele-
ments, and began to look and talk so
wildly, that his companion became
aware that something more than usual
was the matter. At length, Mutcham
complained to his companion that the
stones rose from the road and flew after
him. He desired the man to walk on
the other side of the road of the high-
way, to see if they would follow him
when he was alone. The sailor com-
plied, and Jarvis Mutcham complained
that the stones still flew after him, and
did not pursue the other. “But what
562
MUSIC.
ess,ese
is worse,” he added, coming up to his
companion, and whispering, with a tone
of mystery and fear, “ who is that little
drummer boy, and what business has
he to follow us so closely?” “ I can
see 11) one,” answered the seaman.
“ What! not see t-1at little boy with the
bloody pantaloons !” exclaimed the se-
cret murderer, so much to the terror of
his comrade, that he conjured him, if
he had any thing on his mind to make
a clear conscience, as far as confession
could do it. The criminal fetched a
deep groan, and declared he was un-
able longer to endure the life he had
led for years. He then confessed the
murder of the drummer; and added,
that as a considerable reward had been
offered, he wished his companion to de-
liver him up to the magistrates of Salis-
bury, as he would desire a shipmate to
profit by his fate, which he was now
convinced was inevitable. Having over-
come his friend’s objections to this mode
of proceeding, Jarvis M utcham was sur-
rendered to justice accordingly, and
made a full confession of his guilt. But
before the trial the love of life returned.
The prisoner denied his confession, and
pleaded not guilty. By this time full
evidence had been procured from other
quarters. Witnesses appeared from his
former regiment to prove his identity
with the murderer and deserter, and the
waiter remembered the ominous words
which he had spoken, when he awoke
him to join the Portsmouth coach. Jarvis
Mutcham was found guilty, and execut-
ed. When his last chance of life was
over, he returned to his confession, and
with his dying breath averred, and

truly, as he thought, the truth of the
vision on Salisbury plain.
(8) FATHER AND MOTHER
MURDERING THEIR OWN SON.
-A seafaring man called at a village
on the coast of Normandy, and asked ibr
a supper and a bed; the landlord and
lady were elderly people, and apparent-
ly poor. He entered into a conversation
with them, invited them to partake of
his cheer, asked many questions about
them and their family, and particularly
of a son who had gone to sea when a
boy, and whom they had long given
over as dead. The landlady .howed
him to his room, and when she quitted
him, he put a purse of gold into her
hand, and desired her to take care of it
till morning, pressing her affectionately
by the hand. She returned to her
husband, and showed the accursed gold ;
for its sake they determined to murder
the traveler in his sleep, which they
accomplished, and buried the body.
Early in the morning came two or
three relations, and asked, in a joyful
tone, for the traveler who arrived the
night before. The old people seemed
greatly confused, but said he had risen
early and gone away. “It is your own
son,” said they, “ who has lately re-
turned to France, to bless your old age,
and he resolved to lodge with you, one
night, unknown, and then judge of your
conduct to wayfaring mariners ”
Language is incapable of describing
the horror of the murderers, when they
learned that they had dyed their hands
in the blood of their long lost child.
They confessed their crime, the body
was found, and the murderers expiated
their offence with their lives.

289. MUSIC.
((1) CHEERFUL CHURCH MUSIC.
—When the poet Carpani inquired of
his friend Haydn, how it happened that
his church music Was always so cheerful,
the great composer made a most beauti-
ful reply. “I cannot,” said he, “make
it otherwise, I write according to the
thoughts I feel; when I think upon
God, my heart is so full of my that the

notes dance and leap, as it were, from
my pen: and since God has given me
a cheerful heart, it will be pardoned me
that I serve him with a cheerful spirit.”
(b) THE SOLDIER UNPREPAR-
ED TO SING.-—-Mr. Cooper, a mis.
sionary in the East Indies, had been on
one occasion preaching on Justification,
at a military station on the Malabar
563
289
MUSIC.
, and social religious meetings.
coast; and on giving out the hymn at
the end of the service, which was the
109th of the first book of I/Vatts, he
paused and remarked, that if any one
who did not come to Christ for the
bestowment of this righteousness, joined
in the singing of this hymn, he was only
insulting God. One of the soldiers who
was hearing him said, he was as if thun-
derstruck: “ WVhat a wretch must I be,”
said he, “that I am prohibited from
joining in the praises of God I” He
went to the barracks under this im-
pression, and found that, without an
interest in Christ, he was a wretch in-
deed; and now, to all human appear-
ance, he has fled for refuge to that atone-
ment he had formerly neglected.
((2) THE NOBLEMAN’S DAUGH-
TER.—-A nobleman of great wealth,
Lord , was a man of the world.
His pleasures were drawn from his
riches—-his honors and friends. His
daughter was the idol of his heart.
Much had been expended in her edu-
cation -: and well did she repay, in her
intellectual endowments, the solicitude
of her parents. She was highly ac-
complished, amiable in her disposition,
and winning in her manners. They
were all strangers to God. At length
Miss attended a Methodist meet-
ing in London, was deeply awakened,
and soon happily converted. N ow she
delighted in the service of the sanctuary
To her
the charms of Christianity were over-
powering; frequenting those places
where she met with congenial minds
animated with similar hopes, she was
often found in the house of God.
The change was marked by her fond
father with awful solicitude. To see
his lovely daughter thus infatuated,
was to him occasion of deep grief, and
he resolved to correct her erroneous
notions on the subject of tne real
pleasures and business of life. He
placed at her disposal large sums of
money, hoping she would be induced to
go into the fashions and extravagances
of others of her birth, and leave the
Methodist meetings, but she maintained
her integrity. He took her on long
and frequent journeys, conduc‘ ed her in
the most engaging manner, in order to

divert her mind from religion ; but she
still delighted in the Savior. After
failing in many projects which he
fondly anticipated would be effectual in
subduing the religious feelings of his
daughter, he introduced her into com-
pany under such circumstances that
she must either join in the recreation
of the party or give high offence. Hope
lighted up the countenance of the in-
fatuated but misguided father, as he
saw his snare about to entangle in its
meshes the object of his solicitude. It
had been arranged among his friends,
that several young ladies should, on the
approaching festive occasion, give a
song, accompanied by the piano forte.
The hour arrived-—the party assembled.
Several had performed their parts to the
great delight of the party, who were ir
high spirits: Miss was now called
on for a song, and many hearts beat
high in hope of victory. Should she
decline, she was disgraced. Should she
comply, their triumph was complete.
This was the moment to seal her fate.
With perfect self-possession she took
her seat at the piano forte, ran her fin-
gers over its keys, and commenced
playing and singing in a sweet air, the
following words :

No room for mirth or trifling here,
For worldly hope or worldly fear,
If hfe so soon is gone ;
If new the Judge is at the door,
And all mankind must stand before
The inexorable throne ;
No matter which my thoughts employ,
A moment’s misery or joy ;
But Oh ! when both shall end I
Where shall I find my destined place‘!
Shall I, my everlasting days,
With fiends or angels spend?
She arose from her seat. The whole
party was subdued. Not a word was
spoken. Her father wept aloud. One
by one they left the house. Lord
never rested till he became a Christian.
He lived an example of Christian bene-
volence-—having given to benevolent
Christian enterprises, at the time of his
death, nearly half a million of dO1lEl.l‘S.
(d) THE PIRATE AND THE
ZENAIDA DOVES.——The following
interesting fact is related by Audobon
in his Ornithological Biography. In

564
MUSIC.
289
speaking of the Zenaida dove, he says,
---~‘‘ A man who was once a pirate as-
sured me, that several times, while at
certain wells dug in the burning shelly
sands of the well known Key, which
must be here nameless, the soft and
melancholy cry of the doves awoke in
his breast feelings that had long slum-
bered, melted his heart to repentance,
and caused him to linger at the spot in
a state of mind, which he only who
compares the wretchedness of guilt with
the happiness of former innocence, can
truly feel. He said he never left the
place without increased fears of futurity,
associated as he was, although I believe
by force, with a band of the most des-
perate villains that ever annoyed the
Florida coast. So deeply moved was
he by the notes of any bird, and espe-
cially by those of a dove, the only
soothing sounds he ever heard during
his life of horrors, that through these
plaintive notes, and them alone, he was
induced to escape from his vessel, aban-
don his turbulent companions, and re-
turn to a family deploring his absence.
After paying a parting visit to those
wells, and listening once more to the
cooings of the Zenaida dove, he poured
out his soul in humble supplication for
mercy, and once more became what
one has said to be “the noblest work of
God,” an honest man. His escape was
effected amidst difliculties and dangers;
but no danger seemed to him compar-
able with the danger of one living in
the violation of human and divine laws ;
and now he lives in peace in the midst
of all his friends.
(e) IRREVERENCE IN THE
CIIOlR.——-The result of my observa-
tions, says a minister of the gospel, is,
that there is a great lack of devotion,
(not to say of common good breeding)
in the choirs of all our denominations.
Especially is this manifested by smiling
and whispering, and looking over tune
books in the time of sermon. I once, in
a strange church, had before me a
leader, who formally took up his tune
book, as soon as I had named the text,
and began poring over it. Seeing some
little boys of the Sunday school, simi-
larly engaged, I took occasion mildly
to reprove them, and noticed that .he

offender in the gallery took the hint and
amended his manners. A thousand
times would I prefer the Precentor, as
1 have seen him in the Presbyterian
churches at the South, in the front of the
pulpit, rise and lead the congregation,
to the best trained, most exact, scientific,
undevout choir in the land.
(f) LUTHER’S OPINION OF
MUSIC.——“ Music,” says Luther, “is
one of the fairest and most glorious gifts
of God, to which Satan is a bitter ene-
my ; for it removes from the heart the
weight of sorrows and the fascination
of evil thoughts. Music is a kind and
gentle sort of discipline; it refines the
passions and improves the understand-
ing. Even the dissonance of unskillful
fiddlers serves to set off the charms of
true melody, as white is made more
conspicuous by the opposition of black.
Those who love music are gentle and
honest in their tempers. I always loved
music,” adds Luther, “ and would not,
for a great matter, be without the little
skill which I possess in the art.”
(g) WRATH OF AMURATH SUB-
DUED.—-Sultan Amurath, a prince no
torious for his cruelty, laid siege tc
Bagdad; and, on taking it, gave orders
for putting thirty thousand Persians to
death, notwithstanding they had sub-
mitted and laid down their arms.
Among the number of the victims was
a musician, who entreated the ofiicer to
whom the execution of the sultan’s
order was intrusted to spare him for a
moment, that he might speak to the
author of the dreadful decree. The
ofiicer consented, and he was brought
before Amurath, who permitted him to
exhibit a specimen of his art. Like the
musician in Homer, he took up a kind
of psaltery which resembles a lyre, and
has six strings on each side, and ae-
companied it with his voice. He sung
the capture of Bagdad and the triumph
of Amurath. The pathetic tones and
exulting sounds which he drew from
the instrument, joined to the alternative
plaintiveness and boldness of his strains,
rendered the prince unable to restrain
the softer emotions of his soul. He
even suffered him to proceed, until,
overpowered with harmony, he melted
into tears of pity and repented of his
. 565
289,290
NOBILITY.
cruelty. In consideration of the musi-
cian’s abilities, he not only directed his
people to spare those among the pri-
soners who yet remained alive, but also
to give them instant liberty.
(h) REFRESHMENTS IN THE
ORGAN LOFT.——Many years ago,
says a writer in a New-York paper,
I boarded, when a very young man,
with a family at the South, the head of
which was an organist in the church.
Not being attached to any church or to
any form, I willingly attended divine
service with him now and then, and for
convenience sat with him in the organ
loft. As I do not mention names or
places, it is no breach of confidence to
reveal the secrets with which I became
acquainted, as connected with the choir.
The loft was railed in, and furnished
with substantial thick crimson curtains,
which, when drawn, were sufiicient to
exclude vulgar eyes from the hallowed
interior.
It was the custom, when the excellent
ritual of devotion was gone through,
and the rector had named the text, for
the singers to draw the curtain around‘
them and read or sleep, as it suited
them best. In very warm weather
they also took care to be supplied with
refreshments, and thus the tedious half
hour allotted to the sermon was pretty
easily consumed without much weari-
ness. I recollect that one very warm
Sabbath afternoon, the singers had water-
melons and lemonade wherewith to con-
sole themselves, and it happened that
one of the gentlemen in handing a slice
to a lady singer overset the lemonade

O
jug. This might not have been of much
consequence had the floor of the organ
loft been liquor-tight. But there were
many chinks in it, and the lemonade
trickled through pretty freely, down
into the broad aisle, to the discomfiture
of the rector and such of his congrega-
tion as were wakeful enough to notice
passing events.
EFFECTS OF MUSIC ON
BISHOP BEVERIDGE.—Bishop Be
veridge observes, that, of all recreation,
he found music to be the best and espe-
cially when he played himself. “It
calls in my spirits,” says he, “composes
my thoughts, delights my ear, recreates
my mind, and so not only fits me for
after business, but fills my heart at the
present with pure and useful thoughts.”
THE CLERGYMAN’S FAMI-
LY.—-An excellent clergyman, possess-
ing much knowledge of human nature,
instructed his large family of daughters
in the theory and practice of music.
They were all observed to be exceed-
ingly amiable and happy. A fiiend
inquired if there was any secret in his
mode of education. He replied, “When
any thing disturbs their temper I say
to them sing, and if I hear them speak-
ing against any person, Icall them to
sing to me, and so they have sung away
all causes of discontent, and every dis-
position to scandal.” Such a use of
this accomplishment, might serve to fi
a family for the company of angels.
Young voices around the domestic altar,
breathing sacred music at the hour of
morning and evening devotion, are a
sweet and touching accompaniment.
290. NOBILITY.
(a) SCHILLER’S ES'[‘IMATE.—-
Schiller, the German poet, had a patenf
of nobility conferred upon him by the
Emperor of Germany, which he never
used. Turning over a heap of papers
one day, in the presence of a friend, he
came to his patent, and showed it care-
lessly to his frieno‘ with this observation,
I suppose you did not know I was a no-
ble ; and then buried it again in the
mass of miscellaneous papers in which
it had long lain undisturbed. Schiller’s
Fnazi might have answered, after this

action, “ If I did not before know you
were noble, I know it now.”
(b) A SIGNIFICANT QUESTION.
——At the commencement of the first
revolution in France, a gentleman of
Dauphine, anxious to support the inter-
ests of the aristocracy, said, “ Think of
all the blood the nobles of France have
shed in battle I” A commoner replied,
“And what of the blood of the people
poured forth at tne same time’? WVas
umtwawr?’
566
. at peace with their fellows.
NON-RESISTAN CE.

NON-RESISTANCE,it SAFETY AND OTHER BENEFITS OF.
291. Prevents and Disarms Aggression.
(a) RAYMOND THE TRAVEL-
ER.--Raymond, a celebrated Europe-
an traveler, bears the following testimo-
ny:
Speaking of the Spanish smugglers,
he says: “ These smugglers are as
adroit as they are determined, are fa-
miliarized at all times with peril, and
much in the very face of death. Their
first movement is a never-failing shot,
and certainly would be an object of
dread to most passengers; for where
are they to be dreaded more, than in
deserts, where crime has nothing to
witness it, and the feeble no assistance ?
As for myself, alone and unarmed, I
have met them without anxiety, and
have accompanied them without fear.
I/Ve have little to apprehend from men
whom we inspire with no distrust or en-
vy, and every thing to expect in those
from whom we claim only what is due
from man to man. The laws of nature
still exist for those who have long sha-
ken off the laws of civil government.
At war with society, they are sometimes
The as-
sassin has been my guide in the defiles
of the boundaries of Italy; the smug-
gler of the Pyrenees has received me
with a welcome in his secret paths.
Armed, I should have been the enemy
of both ; unarmed, they have alike res-
pected me. In such expectation, I have
long since laid aside all menacing appa-
ratus whatever.
(b) ROBERT BARCLAY AND
THE ROBBERS.--Robekrt Barclay,
the celebrated apologist of the Quakers,
and Leonard Fell, a member of the
same Society, were severally attacked
3y highwaymen in England, at different
* By the use of this word we do not mean to
have it understood that we take the ground of
those technically called “ Non-resistants" in our
time. On the extent of Chr1st’s precept,
“ Resist not evil,” theie is much difference of
opinion. But on that precept all will find the
following facts an interesting comment. Alas
that our Master’s precept is sc httle regarded !
times. Both faithfally adhered to their
. non-resistance principles, and both sig-
nally triumphed. The pistol was lev-
I eled at Barclay, and a determined de-
mand made for his purse. Calm and
self-possessed, he looked the robber in
the face, with a firm but meek benigni_
ty, assured him he was his and every
man’s friend, that he was willing and
ready to relieve his wants, that he was
free from the fear of death through a
divine hope in immortality, and there-
fore was not to be intimidated by a
deadly weapon; and then appealed to
him, whether he could have the heart to
shed the blood of one who had no other
feeling or purpose but to do him good.
The robber was confounded; his eye
melted ; his brawny arm trembled 5 his
pistol fell to his side ; and he fled from
the presence of the non-resistant hero
whom he could no longer confront.
(0) A CHILD’S PLEA FOR LIFE.
—At the close of a battle, a soldier of
the victorious army, more ferocious and
reckless from the bloody work of the
day, chanced to find a small boy on the
field, and, very much from the habit of
assailing whatever came in his way,
lifted his sword to cleave him down,
when the little fellow, looking up in his
face, exclaimed, “ O sir, don‘t kill ME,
Pm so Zitfle.” That simple appeal went
to the warrior’s heart; and returning
his sword into its scabbard, he galloped
away without harming the child. Some
men there possibly may be who would
have killed him ; but scarce one man m
a million would so outrage his own na-
ture.
(ti) REV. MR. LEE AND THE
GENERAL:--Says General P. of Vir-
ginia, “When I was a young manl
went to hear Mr. Lee preach at
meeting-house. There was a very
large crowd in attendance, and a great
many could not get into the house.
Among others I get near the door, and
being fond of show and frolic, I indulged
in some indiscretion, for which Mr. Lee
mildly but plainly reproved me. In an


instant all the bad feelings of my heart
231
567
N ON -RESISTAN CE.

__-A-_—---_--1__-p

Were aroused. I was deeply insulted,
and felt that my whole family was dis-
graced. I retired from the crowd to
brood over the insult, and meditate re-
venge. It was not long beforel resolv-
ed to whip him before he left the ground.
I kept the resolution to myself; and
watched with the eager intensity of re-
sentment, the opportunity to put it ‘in
execution. But the congregation was
dismissed and dispersed, and I saw
nothing of the preacher. How he es-
caped me I could never learn. But I
‘ nursed my wrath to keep it warm ;’
and cherished the determination to put
it into execution the first time I saw
Mr. Lee, although long years should
intervene. Gradually, however, my
feelings subsided ; and in the lapse of a
few years the whole affair faded away
from my mind. Thirteen years passed
over me, and the impetuosity of youth
had been softened down by sober man-
hood. I was standing upon the down-
hill of life I
On a beautiful morning in the early
spring, being from home on business, I
saw, a few hundred yards before me, an
elderly looking man jogging slowly
along in a single gig. As soon as I
saw him, it struck me, that’s Jesse Lee.
The name, the man, the sight of him,
recalled all my recollections of the in-
sult, and all my purposes of resentment.
I strove to banish them all from my
mind. But the more I thought the
warmer I became. My resolution
stared me in the face; and something
whispered coward in my heart if I failed
to fulfil it. My mind was in a perfect
tumult, and my passions wa red strong.
Idetermined to execute my resolution
to the utmost ; and full of rage I spur-
red my horse, and was soon at the side
of ;he man that I felt of all others I
hated most. I accosted him rather
rudely with the question. “ Are you not
a Methodist preacher ’.l” “I pass for
one,” was the reply, and in a manner
that struck me as very meek. “ Ain’t
your name Jesse Lee '2” “ Yes: that’s
my name.” “ Do you recollect preach-
ing in the year at meeting.
house?” “Yes; very well.” “Well,
do you recollect reproving a young man
for some misbehavior?” After a short


pause for recollection, he replied, “ I
do.” “ Well,” said I, “I am that young
man ; and I determined I would whip
you for it the first timel saw you. I
have never seen you from that day to
this ; and now I intend to carry out my
purpose.”
As soon as Ihad finished speaking,
the old man stopped his horse, and look-
ing me full in the face, said, “ You are
a younger man than Iam. You are
strong anu active; and lam old and
feeble. l have no doubt but, if I were
disposed to fight, you could whip me
very easily ; and it would be useless
for me to resist. But as a man of God
I must not strive I So as you are de-
termined to whip me, if you will just
wait, I will get out of my gig, and get
down on my knees, and you may Whip
me as long as you please.” “Never,”
said the old general, “ was I so sudden-
ly and powerfully affected. I was
completely overcome. I trembled from
head to foot. Iwould have given my
estate if I had never mentioned the sub-
ject. A strange weakness came over
my frame. I felt sick at heart ,
ashamed, mortified and degraded, I
struck my spurs into my horse, and
dashed along the road with the speed of
a madman. I am new old: few anu
full of evil have been the days of the
years of my life, yet I am not without
hope in God. Ihave made my peace
with him who is the ‘judge of the quick
and dead ;’ and hope ere long to see
that good man of God with feelings very
different from those with which I me’.
him last.”
(6) INDIAN AND THE QUAKER
MEETING:-A little before the revo-
lutionary war, there were a few families
of Friends, who had removed from
Dutchess county, and settled at Easton,
then in Saratoga county, New-York.
These requested the favor of holding a
religious meeting, which was granted.
The section of country proved to be one
which was so much distressed by scout-
ing parties from both the British and
American armies, that the American
government, unable to protect the in-
habitants, issued a proclamation, direct-
ing them to leave their country: and’
they did generally go.
568
PREVENTS AND DISARMS AGGRESSION.
- -_—-
Friends requested to be permitted to
exercise their own judgment, (saying,
“ You are clear of us in that you have
warned us,”) remained at their homes,
and kept up their meeting.
Robert N isbet, who lived at that time
et East Hoosack, about thirty miles dis-
tant, felt a desire to walk through the
then wilderness country, and sit with
Friends at their week-day meeting. As
they were sitting in meeting, with their
door open, they discovered an Indian
peeping round the door post. I/Vhen he
saw Friends sitting without word or
deed, he stepped forward and took a full
view of what was in the house : then he
and his company, placing their arms in
a corner of the room, took seats with
Friends, and so remained till the meet-
ing closed.
Zebulon Hoxie, one of the Friends
present, then invited them to his house,
put a cheese and what bread he had on
the table, and invited them to help them-
selves: they did so, and went quietly
and harmlessly away.
Before their departure, however,
Robert Nisbet, who could speak and
understand the French language, had a
conversation with their leaders in
French. He told Robert, that they sur-
rounded the house, intending to destroy
all that were in it ; “ but,” said he,
“ when we saw you sitting with your
door open, and without weapons of de-
fence, we had no disposition to hurt
you-—we would have fought for you.”
This party had human scalps with them.
WHITE FEATHER OF
PEACE.-—A family of Quakers from
Pennsylvania, settled at the west in a
remote place, then exposed to savage
incursions. They had not been there
long before a party of Indians, panting
for blood, started on one of their terrible
excursions against the whites, and pass-
ed in the direction of the Quaker’s
abode; but, though disposed at first to
assail him and his family as enemies,
they were received with such open-
hearted confidence, and treated with
such cordiality and kindness, as com-
‘letely disarmed them of their purpose.
Fhey came forth, not against such per-
sons, but against their enemies. They
thirstei for the blood of those who had

29]
injured them; but these children of
peace, unarmed and entirely defence-
less, met them only with accents of
love, and deeds of kindness. It was
not in the heart even of a savage to
harm them; and, on leaving the Qua-
ker’s house, the Indians took a white
feather, and stuck it over the door, to
designate the place as a sanctuary not
to be harmed by their brethren in arms.
Nor was it harmed. The war raged
all around it; the forest echoed often to
the Indian’s yell, and many a white
man’s hearth was drenched in his own
blood; but over the Quaker’s humble
abode gently waved the white feather
of peace, and beneath it his family slept
without harm or fear.
(g) CHRISTIANS WHO VVOULD
NOT FIGHT.—“I have read,” says
Mrs. Chapman, “ of a certain regiment
ordered to march into a small town, (in
the Tyrol, I think,) and take it. It
chanced that the place was settled by a
colony who believed the gospel of Christ
and proved their faith by works. A
courier from a neighboring village in-
formed them that troops were advancing
to take the town. They quietly an-
swered, ‘if they will take it, they must.’
Soldiers soon came, riding in with
colors flying, and fifes piping their shrill
defiance. They looked round for an
enemy, and saw the farmer at his
plough, the blacksmith at his anvil, and
the women at their churns and spinning
wheels. Babies crowded to hear the
music, and boys ran out to see the
pretty trainers, with feathers and bright
buttons, ‘the harlequins of the nine-
teenth century.’ Of course none of
these were in a proper position to be
shot at. ‘Vi/here are your soldiers '2’
they asked. ‘ \Ve have none,’ was the
brief reply. ‘But we have come to
take the town.’ ‘ \Vell, my friends, it
lies before you.’ ‘ But is there nobody
here to fight '2’ ‘ No, we are all Chris-
tians.’ Here was an emergency alto-
gether unprovided for by the military
schools. This was a sort of resistance
which no bullet could hit; a fortress
perfectly bomb-proof. The commander
was perplexed. ‘ If there is nobody to
fight with, of course we can’t fight,’
said he. ’ It is impossible to take such
569
B91
NON —RESISTANCE.

_—*

a town as this.’ So he ordered the
horses’ heads to be turned about, and
they carried the human animals out of
the village, as guiltless as they entered,
and perchance somewhat wiser. This
experiment on a small scale indicates how
easy it would be to dispense with armies
and navies, if men only had faith in the
religion they profess to believe.”
(It) INDIANS AND THE SHA-
KERS.—About the year 1812, Indiana
was the scene of Indian hostilities ; but
the Shakers, though without forts or
arms, lived in perfect safety while the
work of blood and fire was going on all
around them. “ VVhy,” said the whites
afterwards to one of the Indian chiefs,
“ why did you not attack the Shakers as
well as others '2” “ What !” exclaimed
the savage, “ we warriors attack a peace-
able people ! We fight those who won’t
fight us ! Never; it would be a dis-
grace to hurt such a people.”
(2') INHABITANTS OF THE
LOOCHOO ISLANDS.—These islands
are in the neighborhood of the Chinese
Sea. They have been visited by sev-
eral navigators, and, among others, by
Captain Basil Hall. He states that they
have neither forts, men-of-war, garri-
sons, arms, nor soldiers, and appear to
be quite ignorant of the art of war.
They are kind, hospitable, courteous,
and honest, and acquainted with some
of the mechanical arts. Well, what
has been their fate? Reasoning on the
rash premises of the opponents of peace
principles, we should predictate their
utter destruction. But have they been
destroyed ’2 Quite the contrary. They
have been preserved in peace, safety,
and happiness. “The olive branch”
is planted on their shores, and they sit
beneath it, “no man daring to make
them afraid.”
QUAKERS IN THE IRISH
REBELLION.—-Perhaps the severest
test to which the peace principles were
ever put, was in Ireland, during the
memorable rebellion of 1798. During
that terrible conflict, the Irish Quakers
were continually between two fires.
The Protestant part y viewed them with
suspicion and dislike because they re-
fused to fight or to pay military taxes ;
and the fierce multitude of insurgents

deemed it sutlicient cause of death;
that they would neither profess belief in
the Catholic religion nor nelp them
fight for Irish freedom. Victory alter-
nated between the two contending par-
ties, and, as usual in civil war, .the
victors made almost indiscriminate
havoc of those who did not march un-
der their banners. It was a perilous
time for all men; but the Quakers
alone were liable to a raking fire from
both sides. F oreseeing calamity, they
had, nearly two years before the war
broke out, publicly destn ,ed all their
guns, and other weapons used for game
But this pledge of pacific intentions wa
not sufficient to satisfy the government,
which required warlike assistance at
their hands. Threats and insults were
heaped upon them from all quarters;
but they steadfastly adhered to their
resolution of doing good to both parties
and harm to neither. Their houses
were filled with widows and orphans,
with the sick, the wounded and the dy-
ing, belonging both to the loyalists and
the rebels. Sometimes when the Catholic
insurgents were victorious, they would
be greatly enraged to find Quakers ’
houses filled with Protestant families.
They would point their pistols and
threaten death, if their enemies were
not immediately turned into the street
to be massacred. But the pistols drop-
ped, when the Christian mildly replied.
“Friend, do what thou wilt, I will not
harm thee, or any other human being.”
N ot even amid the savage fierceness of
civil war, could men fire at one who
spoke such words as these. They saw
that this was not cowardice, but bravery
very much higher than their own.
On one occasion, an insurgent
threatened to burn down a Quaker
house unless the owner expelled the
Protestant women and children who had
taken refuge there. “ I cannot help it.”
replied the Friend ; “so long asI have
a house,I will keep it open to succor
the hdpless and distressed, whether
they belong to thy ranks, or to those of
thy enemies! If my house is burned
Imust be turned out with them, and
share their affliction.” The fighter
turned away and did the Christ'an no
harm.
5'70






PENN’~‘5 'l‘l{E:\'l‘Y WI'l'll THE INDIANS,
' .
-| - la
PREVENTS AND DISARMS AGGRESSION.
29!
—-
VVhichever party marched into a vil-
lage victorious, the cry was, “ Spare the
Quakers ! They have done good to all
and harm to none.” While flames
were raging, and blood flowing in every
direction, the houses of the peace-
makers stood uninjured.
It is a circumstance worthy to be re-
corded, that during the fierce and ter-
rible struggle, even in counties where
Quakers were most numerous, but one
of their society fell a sacrifice.
That one was a young man, who, be-
ing afraid to trust peace principles, put
on a military uniform, and went to the
garrison for protection. The garrison
was taken by the insurgents, and he
was killed. “ His dress and arms spoke
the language of hostility,” says the his-
torian, “ and therefore invited it.”
(Is) THE BISHOP AND DUKE.--
Luther gives an account of a duke of
Saxony, who made war unnecessarily
upon a bishop of Germany. At that
period ecclesiastics could command
military resources, as well as the secu-
lar nobility. But the weapons of the
good bishop were not carnal. The
duke thought proper, in a very artful
way, to send a spy into the company of
the bishop, to ascertain his plan of car-
rying on the contest. On his return,
the spy was eagerly interrogated by the
duke. “ O, sir,” replied he, “ you
may surprise him without fear, he is
doing nothing, and making no prepar-
ation.” “ How is that,” asked the
duke; “ what does he say ?” “ He
says he will feed his flock, preach the
word, visit the sick; and that, as for
this war, he should commit the weight
of it to God himself.” “Is it so?”
said the duke ; “ then let the devil wage
war against him ; I will not.”
(Z) PACIFIC POLICY OF PENN.
—-The case of VVilliam Penn, is per-
haps the fullest and fairest illustration
of pacific principles in their bearing on
the intercourse of nations. His colony,
though an appendage to England, was
to the Indians an independent State.
They knew no power above or beyond
that of Penn himself; and they treated
his colony as another tribe or nation.
Their king had himself expressly aban-
doned these Quakers entirely to their

“-—-
own resources. “VVhat !” said Charles
II to Penn, on the eve of his departure,
“venture yourself among the savages of
North America! Why man, what
security have you, that you will not be
in their war-kettle within two hours
after setting your foot on their shores '2”
“The best security in the world,” replied
the man of peace. “I doubt that,
friend William; I have no idea of any
security against those cannibals, but a
regiment of good soldiers with their
muskets and bayonets ; and I tell you
beforehand that, with all my good will to
you and your family, to whoml am un-
der obligations, I will not send a single
soldier with you.” “I want none of
thy soldiers; I depend on something
better.” “Better! on what '2” “ On
the Indians themselves, on their moral
sense, and the promised protection of
God.”
Such was the course of William
Penn ; and what was the result’.2 In the
midst of the most warlike tribes on this
continent, the Quakers lived in safety,
while all the other colonies, acting on
the war-policy of armed defence, were
involved almost incessantly in bloody
conflicts with the Indians. Shall we
ascribe this to the personal tact of VVil-
liam Penn '2 Shrewd he doubtless was;
but the success of his policy was owing
mainly, if not entirely, to its pacific
character. Penn was only an embodi-
ment of his principles, and the efficacy
of these is strikingly exhibited in the
fact that Pennsylvania, during all the
seventy years of her peace policy, re-
mained without harm from the Indians,
but suffered as soon as she changed that
policy, the same calamities with the
other colonies.
(m) THE CHRISTIAN INDIANS.
-—The following anecdote is related by
a writer of Graham’s Magazine. A
large body of Indians had been con-
verted by the Moravian missionaries,
and settled in the west, where their
simplicity and harmlessness seemed a
renewal of the better days of Christian-
ity. During the Revolutionary war
these settlements, named Lichtenan and
Guadenhutten, being located in the
seat of the former Indian contests, were
exposed to outrage from both parties.
571
292
NON-RESISTANCE.
Being, however, under the tuition and
influence of the whites, and having
adopted their religion, and the virtuous
portion of their habits, they naturally
apprehended that the hostile Indians,
sweeping down upon the American
frontier, would take advantage of their
helplessness, and destroy them as allies
of the whites. Subsequent events en-
able us to compare the red and white
man, and determine which is the savage.
A party of two hundred Hurons, fiercely
approached the Moravian Indian town.
The Christian Indians conducted them-
selves, in this trying extremity, with
meekness and firmness. They sent a
deputation with refreshments to their
approaching foes, and told them, that by
the word of God, they were taught to
be at peace with all men, and entreated
for themselves, and their white teachers,
peace and protection. And what re-
plied the savage, fresh from the wilds,
and panting for blood’! Did he mock
to scorn the meek and Christian ap-
peal? Did he answer with the war
whoop, and lead on his men to the easy
slaughter of his fees '2 What else could
be expected from an Indian '2 Yet such
was not the response of the red war-
rior. He said he was on a war party,
and his heart had been evil, and his
aim had been blood; but the words of
his brethren had opened his eyes. He
would do them no harm. “ Obey your
teachers,” said he, “ worship your God
and be not afraid. No creature shall
harm you?’
29%. Effects the Reformation of Aggressors.
(a) OBERLIN AND THE CON-
SPIRATORS.—M. Oberlin was ap-
pointed minister of the Ban de la Roche,
France, in the year 1767: he was then
twenty-seven years of age. His parish
was a very rude and ignorant district,
secluded from the rest of the province.
His predecessor, an excellent individual,
had commenced the execution of several
plans which were likely to improve the
moral and religious state of his parish.
M. Oberlin determined to carry on and
extend these measures as far as he
could, to the great satisfaction of those
Who had approved them; but the greater
part of the inhabitants were resolved to
oppose the designs of their exeellent pas-
tor, and laid a plan to waylay him, and
treat him with such severity as might
effectually deter him from continuing
his admonitions. Their pastor was in-
formed of this intention, and that an ap
proaching Lord’s day was fixed for the
perpetration of their wicked design.
On that day he took for his text the
words of our Lord, Matt. v. 39, “Re-
sist not evil : but whosoever shall smite
thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the
other also.” In the course of his ser-
mon he spoke of the Christian patience
with which we ought to suffer injuries.
After service the conspirators assembled
at the house of one of their number,
and were probably amusing themselves
with the idea that their minister would
himself soon have to put in practice the
lessons he had just given. While con-
ferring upon the execution of their plan,
the door suddenly opened, and to their
great astonishment, M. Oberlin himself
stood in the midst of the assembly.
“ Here am I, my friends,” said he, with
a calmness which inspired even the
most violent with respect 5 “ I am aware
of your intentions with regard to me.
You intend to beat me, and to chastise
me for acting in a manner which you
disapprove. If I have broken the rules
of conduct which I have laid down for
you to follow, then punish me. I would
much rather give myself up to you,
than to have you guilty of the baseness
of lying in wait for me.” This simple
address produced an immediate effect.
The peasants, ashamed of themselves,
entreated his pardon, and promised that
they would not again doubt his affection
for them. From that period he was en-
abled to pursue his benevolent designs,
and, eventually, a most pleasing change
was effected.
(Z2) HENRY C. WRIGHT AND
HIS ASSAILAN T.——The following in-
cident in the life of Henry C. Wrigh‘
shows his admirable consistency, and
the salutary influence of non-resistance
on the offender. He was in a hotel in
Philadelphia, and there engaged in a
conversation on non-resistance. An of-
ficer present became enraged and struck
him. Mr. Wright took no notice of the
572
0
TRANSFORMS AGGRESSORS INTO FRIENDS.
.—_—-_ p--_--Q
e92,2se
assault, but proceeded with his remarks.
In a few moments the oflicer struck him
again. Friend Wright still preserved
his equanimity, and continued the con-
versation. His assailant struck him a
third time, and nearly knocked him
down. He recovered himself, and
though much injured by the blows of
his opponent, took him by the hand and
said, “ I feel no unkindness towards you,
and hope soon to see you at my house.”
He then left the company and returned
home. Mr. Wright saw his assailant
much sooner than he expected, for he
was called up at dawn next morning,
by the very man who had struck him
the previous evening. He exclaimed,
as he entered the house, “Can you for-
give me’.2 I have been in agony all
night. I thought you would strike
again, or I never should have struck
you.” “He that is slow to anger is
better than the mighty; and he that
ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a
city.”
(c) THE METHODIST NON-RE-
SISTANT.——The Rev. John Pomphret,
an English Methodist minister, always
advocated the practical applicability of
the “peace doctrine,”—--“ If a man will
sue thee at law, and take away thy coat,
let him have thy cloak also; and if he
compel thee to go with him a mile, go
with him twain,”——always declaring
that if he should be attacked by a high-
wayman, he should put it in practice. Be-
ing a cheesemonger, (he preached with-
out wages,) on his return from market
one day, after he had received a large
amount of money from his customers
for the purpose of replenishing his year’s
stock, he was accosted by a robber, de-
manding his money, and threatening his
life if he refused. The reverend peace-
man coolly and kindly replied, “ VVell,
friend, how much do you want, for I will
give it to you. and thus save you from
the crime of committing highway rob-
bery '2” “ Will you certainly give me
what I require ?” asked the robber. “I
will, in truth, if you do not require more
than I have got,” replied the non-resist-
ant. “Then I want fifteen pounds,”
(about seventy-five dollars.) The re-
quired sum was counted out to him, and
in gold, instead of in bank-bills, which,

if the numbers had been observed, the
reverend father, by notifying the bank.
could have rendered uncurrent, besides
leaving the robber liable to detection in
attempting to pass them, telling him at
the same time why he gave the gold in-
stead of bank-notes; and saying, “ Un-
fortunate man, I make you welcome to
this sum. Go home. Pay your debts.
Hereafter, get your living honestly.”
Years rolled on. At length the good
preacher received a letter, containing
principal and interest, and a humlue
confession of his sins, “rem the robber,
saying that his appeals waked up Ls
slumbering conscience, which had gi -
en him no rest till he had made bou
restitution and confession, besides whor-
ly changing his course of life.
Q93. Transforms Aggressors into Friends.
(a) THE SUBDUED HATTER.--
When I was in the hatting business,
says Mr. Hanchett, I employed a man
by the name of Jonas Pike, from Mas-
sachusetts, who was a most excellent
workman in the manufacture of hats.
But he was one of that kind of journey-
men who would have their trains, as
they were familiarly called amongst us
in that day. Therefore, as a natural
consequence, he was without comforta-
ble clothing the most of the time. Af-
ter he got a shop he would work very
industriously until he had earned from
twenty to thirty, and sometimes forty
dollars worth of clothing; (for he was
always in want of clothing when he
commenced work ;) and then he would
get on one of his trains, and dispose of
every article of his clothing that would
fetch six cents, expending all for w nis-
ky. VV hen all was gone, and he be-
gan to cool off a little, he would be very
ugly; sometimes he would fret and
scold, and then he would coax and
plead, to have me trust him a hat or
something else, that he might sell, and
thereby get more whisky. VVhen I
refused him, he would become very an-
gry and threaten to whip me, which I
told him he might do as soon as be
pleased. But said he, “I will not do it
in your own shop ; if I had you out of
doors I would thrash you like a sack.’
573
293
NON-RESISTANCE.
After hearing him repeat these sayings
several times, I walked out at the door.
I then spoke to him, saying, “ I am now
out of the shop, thou canst whip me if
thou wishest to do so very much,” at
which he stepped out of the shop, came
furiously towards me, squaring himself
for a box, and struck me a blow on the
breast, at which I put my hand upon
my cheek, and held it down to him, say-
ing, “Now strike here, Jonas.” He
now looked at me with surprise and as-
tonishment, then turning round, saying
at the same time, with an oath, “ If you
will not fight, I will let you alone,” he
went into the shop, sat down and was
quiet. He got sober and went to work,
and ever after was affectionate and
kind, and very peaceable with me. I
employed him several times afterwards
to work for me, and he was always very
peaceable and obliging.
(Z2) THE GENERAL’S EXPERI-
MENT I./VITH THE INDIANS.-
The following anecdote is related of
General He was engaged on a
tour to the northwest, some time after
the war of 1812-15, for the purpose,
among other objects, of selecting and
obtaining from the Indians a site for a
military post. He was attended by a
small party, and they were unarmed.
Before he had succeeded in his object,
the Indians conceived a design for mur-
dering him and his party; and they ac-
cordingly fixed the time for carrying
their purpose into execution. A trader
who resided on the spot, communicated
the plot to the general, and proposed, as
the only possible chance of escape, that
he should take shelter in his house, sup-
posing that he might perhaps have in-
terest with them sutficient to keep them
from breaking into his house to perpe-
trate the intended massacre. The gen-
eral received the intelligence——his own
observation of the countenances and
movements of the Indians left him no
room to doubt its correctness; but he
was unwilling to accept the offer of the
trader. He thought it would derogate
from the character he had obtained, to
leave his tent and take shelter in a pri-
vate house. His situation was perilous.
The h ur had almost arrived, and
there was no possibility of escape or de-


a
fence. In this extremity, he determined
on a bold experiment. With the aid of
the trader, though not without dilficulty,
ne succeeded in collecting the chiefs in
council ; but their menacmg counte-
nances gave PViGc11C6 of the determina-
tion they had formed. At that critical
moment, the assembly exhibited a most
interesting scene. The general, with
his little handful of men, all unarmed,
in the heart of the Indian country, was
surrounded by many times their own
number of Indians, determined on their
work of death, equipped for the horrid
purpose, and waiting for the signal of
onset.
The general arose with composure.
He told them the object of his visit-—
that their happiness was also contem-
plated-—that he came among them as
brothers. He had brought no forces,
nor even arms, with which to defend
himself. “ You see,” said he, “I have
nothing but this,” stretching out his
hand with his cane. He reminded them
that he was in the midst of their people,
and he looked to them for protection.
They had listened with increasing at-
tention to his discourse thus far. But
here they would no longer remain in si-
lent attention. They leaped from their
seats, and rushing to him with all the
ardor of friendship, they caught him in
their arms, hugged him, gave him every
assurance of protection, and during his
hasty stay among them, fully realized
their promises.
(0) THE REVOLUTIONARY
SOLDIER.—A beloved brother, now
dead, (says a writer in a Massachusetts
journal,) related to me a circumstance
of his life, which I think is worth pre-
serving. He was a soldier in the revo-
lutionary war. After he came here,
he became religious, and was convinced
that all “ wars and fightings ” are con-
trary to the Gospel of Christ. His zeal
in advocating his principles, stirred up
the enmity of a wicked man in the
neighborhood, who threatened, when his
son came home from the army, he would
flog him.
Sure enough, when the son came
home, the old man told such stories to
him about this brother, that it excited
him to that degree, that he came to the
574
NON-RESISTANCE AND TRUST IN GOD.
294
house where my brother lived, in a rage,
determined to fight. My brother ex-
postulated with him, and endeavored,
b) all the means in his power, to allay
his anger, and deter him from his pur-
pose; but all would not do; fight he
must, and fight he would. “ ell,”
says the brother, “ if we must fight,
don’ t let us be like cats and dogs, fight-
in in the house; so go out into the
field.” To this he assented. When
they had got into the field, and the young
bully had stripped himself for the fight,
my brother looked him in the face, and
said, “ N ow you are a great coward.”
“ Coward ! don’t call me a coward.”
“ Well, you are one of the greatest
cowards I ever saw.” “What do you
mean .2” “ I mean as I say ; you must be
a very great coward to go fighting a man
who will not fight you.” “ What, don’t
you mean to fight me '2” “ Not I ; you
may fight me as much as you please, I
shall not lift up a finger against you.”
“ Is that your principle ?” “ Yes, it is ;
and I mean to be true to it.” The
spirit of the young soldier fell; and,
stretching out his arm, he said, “ Then
I would sooner cut off that arm than‘ I
would strike you.” They then entered
into an explanation, and parted good
friends.
Q94. N011-ltesistarme and Trust in God.
(a) THE PIOUS CAPTAIN AND
THE PIRATE SHIP.——Capt. S ,
of VV , Massachusetts, relates, that
on a voyage to Brazil, in the spring of
1833, while sailing near Cape St. Roque,
he descried, one morning, in the distance,
a suspicious looking vessel, under a
press of canvas, standing toward him.
From several circumstances, he was led
to imagine that she was occupied by pi-
rates, who were advancing to plunder
and murder. Still, not being certain of
the fact, he concluded to keep the ves-
sel on her course. The suspicious
schooner continued to gain upon him,
and soon, by the help of the glass, he
saw her deck covered with men, and a
long eighteen pounder on a swivel, so
prepared as to turn in any direction de-
sired. She was evidently a faster sail-
er than his own vessel ; he concluded,


-6
therefore, that if he turned out of his
course, he would at length be overtak-
en, and from the pirates, excited and
exasperated by a long chase, little mer-
cy could be expected. The captain
was a professed Christian, a strong be-
liever in the providence cf God, and
emphatically a man of peace. Instead
of fighting with carnal weapons, he de-
termined to fight him with spiritual ones.
Having religious tracts on board, he de-
termined, as soon as the schooner came
along side, to go on board, and present
his tracts to the captain and crew, and
preach to them in a bold, but affection-
ate manner, appropriate truths from the
Gospel of Christ. He ordered all the
hands to go down below, but the man
at the helm. This he did partly to keep
them from being agitated and from agi-
tating his own mind, and partly to do
away with all appearance of opposition
against the approaching foe. Then,
committing his men and himself to God,
he patiently awaited the pirate’s arrival.
The schooner came nearer and nearer,
till at length even the figures of the men
could be distinctly seen by the naked
eye. A fearful crisis was fast coming.
But still the captain never shrunk nor
veered from his course for a moment.
Suddenly the pirates altered their course,
hauled the vessel upon the wind, and
stood away as rapidly as sail and surge
could carry them! From the fact that
they saw no men on board but Capt. S.
and the helmsman, and no manifestations
of fear, the pirates might have been led
to suspect that there was a large armed
force below, or some other decoy pre-
pared ; and thus concluded it dangerous
to attempt their hostile design. What-
ever process of thought it was, however,
which led them to retreat, who will fail
to recognize in that process an overruling
Providence, protecting in this instance,
as in many others, the man who resists
not evil, but in the hour of threatened
violence depends not on his own arm,
but on God’s ‘.3
(b) QUAKERS IN THE FRENCH
AND INDI AN Vi/AR.—The reader
of American history will recollect, that
in the beginning of the 18th century a
desultory and most dreadful warfare
was carried on by the natives against
575
294
N ON-RESISTAN CE.

the European settlers; a warfare that was
provoked—as such warfare has almost
always originally been-—-by the injury
and violence of the [nominal] Christians.
The mode of destruction was secret
and sudden. The barbarians some-
times lay in wait for those who might
come within their reach, on the high-
way or in the fields, and shot them
without warning, and sometimes they
attacked the Europeans in their houses,
“scalping some, and knocking out the
brains of others.” From this horrible
warfare the inhabitants sought safety by
abandoning their houses, and retiring to
fortified places, or to the neighborhood
of garrisons ; and those whom necessity
still compelled to pass beyond the limits
of such protection, provided themselves
with arms for their defence. But
amidst this dreadful desolation and uni-
versal terror, the Society tf Friends,
who were a considerable portion of the
whole population, were steadfast to their
principles. They would neither retire
to garrisons, nor provide themselves
with arms. They remained openly in
the country, whilst the rest were flying
to the forts. They still pursued their
occupations in the fields or at their
homes, without a weapon either for an-
noyance or defence. And what was
their fate? They lived in security and
quiet. The habitation, which, to his
armed neighbor, was the scene of mur-
der and of the scalping knife, was to the
unarmed Quaker a place of safety and
of peace. Three of the Society were
however killed. And who were they ?
They were three who abandoned their
principles. Two of these victims were
men who, in the simple language of the
narrator, “ used to go to their labor with-
out any weapons, and trusted to the Al-
mighty, and depended on his providence
to protect them, (it being their principle
not to use weapons of war to offend
others, or to defend themselves ;) but a
spirit (f distrust taking place in their
minds, they took weapons of war to de-
fend themselves, and the Indians, who
had seen them several times without
them and let them alone, saying,
they were peaceable men and hurt no-
body, therefore, they would not hurt
them—now seeing them have guns, and

__-_ .
supposing they designed to kill the In-
dians, they therefore shot the men dead.
The third whose life was sacrificed was
a woman, “who had remained in her
habitation,” not thinking herself war-
ranted in going “to a fortified place for
preservation,” neither she, her son, nor
daughter, nor to take thither the little
ones: but the poor woman after some
time began to let in a slavish fear, and
advised her children to go with her to
a fort not far from their dwelling. She
went; and shortly afterwards “ th<
bloody, cruel Indians, lay by the way,
and killed her."
(0) QUAKER’S HOUSE PRE-
SERVED.-——A most remarkable case
occurred at the siege of Copenhagen
under Lord Nelson. An officer in the
fleet says, “ I was particularly impress-
ed with an object which I saw three or
four days after the terrific bombard-
ment of that place. For several nights
before the surrender, the darkness was
ushered in with a tremendous roar of
guns and mortars, accompanied by the
whizzing of those destructive and burn-
ing engines of warfare, Congreve’s
rockets. The dreadful effects were soon
visible in the brilliant lights through the
city. The blazing houses of the rich,
and the burning cottages of the poor,
illuminated the heavens; and the wide-
spreading flames, reflecting on the wa-
ter, showed a forest of ships assembled
round the city for its destruction. This
work of conflagration went on for seve-
ral nights ; but the Danes at length sur-
rendered; and on walking some days
after among the ruins, consisting of the
cottages of the poor, houses of the rich,
manufactories, lofty steeples, and hum-
ble meeting-houses, I deseried, amid this
barren field of desolation, a solitary
house unharmed ; all around it a burnt
mass, this alone untouched by the fire,
a monument of mercy. ‘ Whose house
is that '2’ I asked. ‘ That,’ said the in-
terpreter, ‘belongs to a Quaker. He
would neither fight, nor leave his house,
but remained in prayer with his family
during the whole bombardment.’ Sure.
ly, thought I, it is well with the rights-
ous. God has been a shield to thee in
battle, a wall of fire round about thee, a
very present help in time of need.”
576
NOVELS.
291, 295

(d) CITY OF REFUGE.—During
the rebellion in Ireland, in 1798, the
rebels had long meditated an attack on
the Moravian settlement at Grace-Hill,
‘Wexford county. At length they put
their threat in execution, and a large
body of them marched to the town.
When they arrived there, they saw no
one in the streets nor in the houses.
The brethren had long expected this
attack, but true to their Christian pro-
fession, they would not have recourse
to arms for their defence, but assembled
in their chapel, and in solemn prayer
besought Him, in whom they trusted, to
be their shield in the hour of danger.
The ruffian band, hitherto breathing no-
thing but destruction and slaughter, were
struck with astonishment, at this novel
sight. VVhere they expected an armed
hand, they saw it clasped in prayer—-
where they expected weapon to weapon,

and the body armed for the fight, they
saw the bended knee, and humble head,
before the altar of the Prince of Peace.
They heard the prayer for protection ;
they heard the intended victims asking
mercy for their murderers : they heard
the song of praise, and the hymn of
confidence, in the “ sure promise of the
Lord.” They beheld in silence this
little band of Christians; they felt un-
able to raise their hand against them;
and, after lingering in the streets, which
they filled for a night and a day, with
one consent they turned and marched
away from the place, without having
injured an individual, or purloinet 1
single loaf of bread. In consequence
of this signal mark of protection from
heaven, the inhabitants of the neighbor-
ing villages brought their goods, and
asked for shelter in Grace-Hill, which
they called the City of Refuge.
295. NOVELS.
(a) NOVELS RIGHTLY DIS-
POSED OF.—Mr. Nicholas F errar, a
very learned and pious man, who lived
early in the seventeenth century, on the
third day before his death, summoned
all his family around him, and then de-
sired his brother to go and mark out a
place for his grave, according to the
particular directions he then gave.
When his brother returned, saying it
was done as he had wished, he desired
them all, in the presence of each other,
to take out of his study three large ham-
pers full of books, which had been lock-
ed up for many years : “They are co-
medies, tragedies, heroic poems, and
romances ; let them be immediately
burnt upon the place marked out for my
grave ; and when you have so done,
come back and inform me.” When
information was brought him that they
were all consumed, he desired that this
might be considered as the testimony of
his disapprobation of such books, as
tending to corrupt the mind of man, and
improper for the perusal of every seri-
ous and sincere Christian.
(b) NOVEL WRITER’S TESTI-
MONY.-—Dr. Goldsmith, who had him-

self written a novel, in writing to his
brother, respecting the education of his
son uses this strong language: “ Above
all things, never let your son touch a
novel or romance. How delusive, how
destructive are those features of con-
summate bliss! They teach the youth-
ful mind to sigh after beauty and hap-
piness, that never existed; to despise
the little good that fortune has mixed
in our cup, by expecting more than she
ever gave; and in general—-take the
word of a man who has seen the world
and studied it more by experience than
by precept-take my word for it, I say,
that such books teach us very little of
the world.”
(0) SIN CURSING AFTER RE.
PENTANCE.——A young lady in one
of the large cities, (says the N. Y.
Evangelist), of good native talent, was
once condemning her folly, in terms of
deepest regret, for cultivating her taste
for novel reading. She ha'l lately be-
come pious, and now found to her sor-
row, that her imagination had become
so fascinated, and her taste so vitiated
by this pernicious reading, that she
could fix on nothing permanent, and
37
577
295, 296
OBEDIENCE TO PARENTS.
said she, “Were it in my power, I
could make any earthly sacrifice, could
I thirst after the Bible, as I have after
novels; and the greatest daily cross I
am called to take up, is to pass by a
novel without reading it. I would say
it as a warning to all my sex, beware
of this fatal rock; beware of wasting
not only ‘days but nights, to make your-
selves fools all the rest of your days, if
not absolutely wretched.” This is a
frank confession, which might be made
by multitudes who are ciphers in socie-
ty, because they have no fund within;
for novels ever so attentively read, will
furnish none.
(cl) HALL’S OPINION OF MISS
EDGEWORTH.—“ Miss Edgeworth,”
says Robert Hall, “ is the most irreli-
gious writer I ever read ; not so much
from any direct attacks she makes on
religion, as from a universal and studied
omission of the subject. In her writ-
ings you meet a high strain of morality.
She delineates the most virtuous cha-
racters, and represents them in the
most affecting circumstances in life;
in distress, in sickness, and even in the
immediate prospect of eternity, and fi-
nally sends them off the stage with their
virtue unimpaired; and all this with-
out the remotest allusion to religion.
She does not directly oppose religion,
but makes it appear unnecessary, by ex-
hibiting a perfect virtue without it. N 0
works ever produced so had an effect
on my own mind. I did not expect to

' vw
find any irreligion in Miss Edgeworth’s
writings. I was off my guard; their
moral character disarmed me.
nine volumes of them at once; but I
could not preach with any comfort for
six weeks after reading them. I never
felt so little ardor in my profession, or
so little interest in religion. She was
once called to account for the character
of her works, and asked her reasons for
representing a mere ideal morality,
without attributing any influence to re-
ligion. She said, that if she had writ-
ten for the lower classes, she should
‘have recommended religion; but that
she had written for a class for whom it
was less necessary. How absurd! She
seemed to think that the virtues of the
higher orders of society, stand in no
need of religion, and that it was only
designed as a curb and a muzzle for the
brute.
(e) HANNAH MORE’S OPINION.
——Many works of fiction (says Hannah
More,) may be read with safety, some
even with profit; but the constant fa-
miliarity even with such as are not ex-
ceptionable in themselves, relaxes the
mind that wants hardening, dissolves
the heart which wants fortifying, stirs
the imagination which wants quieting,
irritates the passions which want calm-
ing, and above all, disinclines and dis-
qualifies for active virtues, and for spir-
itual exercises. The habitual indulg-
ence in such reading, is a silent, min
ing mischief.
296. OBEDIENCE TO PARENTS.
(rt) CECIL’S OBEDIENCE .—
VV hen the Rev. Richard Cecil was but a
little boy, his father had occasion to go to
the India House, and took his son with
him. VI/hile he was transacting busi-
ness, the little fellow was dismissed, and
told to Wait for his father at one of the
doors. His father on finishing his busi-
ness went out at another door, and en-
tirely forgot his son. In the evening,
his mother, missing the child, inquired
where he was; on which his father,
suddenly recollecting that he had direct-
ed him to wait at a certain door, said,

“ You may depend upon it, he is still
waiting where I appointed him.” He
immediately returned to the India House
and found his dear boy on the very spot
he had ordered him to remain. He
knew that his father expected him to
wait, and therefore he would not disap-
oint him.
(Z2) FIRST STEP TOWARDS
RUIN.—It was stated, at a meeting of
the American Prison Discipline Society
as the result of the examinations made
by that institution into the history and
career of the various criminals confin-
Iread-
578
OMNIPRESENCE AND OMNISCIENCE OF GOD—PAPACY.
297, 298

ed in the prisons of the United States,
that in almost all cases their course of
ruin began in disobedience to parents.
This was followed by intemperance,
and that made way for all other crimes.
The statement was made by the secre-
tary of the society, the Rev. Louis
Dwight, whose opportunity for observa-
tion dad certainly been very great.
297. OMNIPRESENOE AND OMNISCIENCE OF GOD.
(a) GOD IS PRESENT.——The eel-
ebrated Linnmus always testified, in his
conversation, writings, and actions, the
greatest sense of God’s omniscience ;
yea, he was so strongly impressed with
the idea, that he wrote over the door of
his library, Innocui vivite, Numen adest ;
—--Live innocently, God is present.
(Z2) THIEF FORGETTING TO
LOOK UP.—A man, who was in the
habit of going to a neighbor’s corn-field
to steal the grain, one day took his son
with him, a boy eight years of age.
The father told him to hold the bag,
while he looked if any one was near to
see him. After standing on the fence,
and peeping through all the corn-rows,
he returned to take the bag from the
child, and began his sinful work.
“ Father,” said the boy, “ you forgot to
look somewhere else.” The man drop-
ped the bag in a fright, and said, “ which
way, child '2” supposing he had seen
some one. “You forgot to look up to
the sky, to see if God was noticing
you.” The father felt this reproof of
the child so much, that he left the corn,
returned home, and never again ven-

tured to steal; remembering the truth
his child had taught him, that the eye
~of God always beholds us.
(0) WHERE AND I/VHERE NOT
IS GOD '!—-A child, six years of age,
being introduced into company, was
asked, by a clergyman, where God was,
with the offer of an orange. “ Tell
me,” replied the boy, “ where he is not,
and I will give you two.”
(Ci) THOUGHT FOR A FREE-
THINKER.——Collins, the freethinker,
or deist, met a plain countryman going
to church. He asked him where he
was going. “ To church, sir.” “What
to do there '2” “To worship God.”
“ Pray, whether is your God a great or
a little God '2” “ He is both, sir.”
“ How can he be both '2” “ He is so
great, sir, that the heaven of heavens
cannot contain him; and so little that
he can dwell in my heart.” Collins
declared, that this simple answer from
the countryman had more effect upon
his mind than all the volumes which
learned doctors had written against
him.
PAPACY.
Q98. Fanaticism and Cruelty.
(a) BONNER’S TREATMENT
OF CRANMER-—After Archbishop
Cranmer had been condemned, in the
beginning of Queen Mary’s reign, to
suffer death, they proceeded afterwards
to degrade him. To make this appear
as ridiculous as possible, they put on
him an episcopal habit made of canvas
and old rags; Bonner, in the mean-
time, by way of insult and mockery,
called him Mr. Canterbury, and such

like. He bore all with his wonted for-
titude and patience; telling them, the
degradation gave him no concern, for
he had long despised these ornaments.
When they had stript him of all his
habits, they put upon his jacket an old
gown, threadbare and ill-shaped, and a
townsman’s cap, and so delivered him
to the secular power, to be carried back
to prison, where he was kept entirely
destitute of money, and totally secluded
from his friends. Such was the iniqui-
ty of the times, that a gentleman Who
579
298
PAPACY
----—u
‘_f
gave him a little money to buy some
provisions, narrowly escaped being
brought to trial for it.
(Z2) THE IRISH LAD AND THE
PRIEST.-—The following striking an-
ecdote of a papal priest and a clergy-
man’s son, was related by I/Villiam
Digby Seymour, Esq., a young Irish
barrister, at an Anniversary of the
“ Irish Society of London.”
The boy was taking a walk, when a
father-confessor of an adjoining parish
met him; and when he had spoken
awhile with him, he said,“ You’re a
smart lad you young heretic I Do you
know, I’d eat meat nine Fridays run-
ning to coax you into Maynooth '2”
“ Would you '2” replied the youngster ;
“ I’d do more ; I’d fast every Friday of
my life to coax Maynooth into the Shan-
non.” The priest was surprised at this
sally. He spoke with the lad some
minutes longer, and, when going off, he
presented him with a half-crown, say-
ing, he gave because the other was“ the
very picture of his poor, dear, departed
grandmother I” The boy took the half-
crown, and said, he would put it into
his papa’s collection box for the Irish
Society. This enraged the priest. The
face of the holy father, proceeded Mr.
Seymour, blazed till ignition was mo-
mentarily threatened: an anathema of
pious vengeance burst from his lips :—-
“ My curse,—the Virgin’s curse-the
curse of Peter and Paul,—the curse of
the Church and martyrs, be upon that
Society!” he shouted ; “ may a blight
and a blast be upon it I It took from me
the best Catholic in my parish to be a
Scripture-reader last week, and he’ll
steal them all from me before this time
twelvemonth. So, you young repro-
bate, you’re going to abuse my kind-
ness this way! You’ll not take your
life and your half-crown together from
this till you swear on this blessed cross
(taking one from his breast) that you
will not give my money to such an in-
fernal purpose.” So saying, and with a
furious imprecation, he sprang off the
saddle. It was truly a wild and pain-
ful scene! There stood the weeping
boy and the man I the boy so bewilder-
ed as to forget restoring the coin; the
priest so frenzied with religious ardor

as to forget he was before a child.
T1Bl'6 they stood, for a moment only
The savage man had an Irish heart ;
the tears of childhood fell upon that
breast and melted it to softness. The
priest re-mounted his harse and bade
the last adieu forever. The priest’s
curse fell where it was uttered. The
arrow touched not the Society, for the
breath of God’s blessing wafted it aside.
The priest has since been gathered to
them that sleep. He died a penitent.
Oh! may he awake to glory. But
what of the boy? Some kind voice
here may ask—“ What of the boy?”
He lives, my friends; he lives to muse
full oft on that eventful scene. He
lives to pray for the Society he much
loved then, and loves much now. He
lives to thank England’s people for
their zeal in that Socicty’s behalf, and
to urge them to continue in the noble
work of giving Irishmen the Bible ; of
giving children their Father’s will in a
copy they can understand; of giving
the bondmen of Rome the Magna Char-
ta of Protestant liberty. Full of grati-
tude for the past, and full of hopes for
the future, it is he who now addresses
you.
(c) DON PEDRO’S CONFESSION.
——Don Pedro, one of the Spanish cap.
tains taken by Sir F. Drake, being ex-
amined before the Lords of the Privy
Council as to what was their design of
invading us, replied, “ To subdue the
nation and root it out.” “And what
meant you,” said the lords, “ to do with
the Catholics ?” “ To send them good
men,” says he, “ directly to heaven,
and you heretics to hell.” “ For what
end were your whips of cord and wire '2”
“ To whip you heretics to death.”
“ What would you have done with the
young children I” “ Those above sev-
en years old should have gone the way
their fathers went: the rest should have
lived in perpetual bondage, branded in
the forehead with the letter L. for Lu-
theran.”
(cl) DECLARATION OF FRAN
CIS I.--Francis I, king of France
used to declare, “ that if he thought the
blood in his arm was tainted with the
Lutheran heresy, he would have it cut
off; and that he would not spare even
580
/
FAN ATICISM AND CRUELTY.
298
his own children if they entertained
sentiments contrary to the Catholic
Church.”
(c) WORKING ON SAINT’S
DAY.--A historian who lived at the
period of the Norman conquest, in men-
tioning some kings of England before
Alfred, was apprehended for working
on a saint’s day ; and, being asked why
he gave such offence to religion, his re-
ply was, “I am a poor man, and have
nothing but my labor to depend upon ;
necessity requires that I should be in-
dustrious, and my conscience tells me
there is no day but the Sabbath which I
ought to keep sacred from labor.” Hav-
ing thus expressed himself, he was
committed to prison, and being brought
to trial, was, by his iniquitous judges,
condemned to be burnt.
THE INDIAN’S DISLIKE
OF HEAVEN .—-The Spaniards, by
their cruelty to the natives of the island
of Cuba, rendered themselves odious,
and excited in the minds of the inhabit-
ants the strongest prejudices against
their religion. A chief, who had been
condemned to be burnt, when brought
to the stake was exhorted to embrace
Christianity, assured that thereby he
Would be admitted to heaven. The
chief asked if there were any Spaniards
in heaven. “ Yes,” said the priest who
attended him, “ but they are. all good
ones.” The chief replied, “I cannot
bring myself to go to a place where I
should meet with but one ; therefore, do
not speak to me any more of your reli-
gion, but let me die.”
(g) DRUNK VVITH THE BLOOD
OF THE SAINTS.——Aocording to the
calculation of some, about two hundred
thousand suffered death in seven years,
under Pope Julian ; no less than a hun-
dred thousand were massacred by the
French in the space of three months ;
the VValdenses who perished, amounted
to one million ; within thirty years, the
Jesuits destroyed nine hundred thou-
sand ; under the Duke of Alva, thirty-
six thousand were executed by the com-
mon hangman ; a hundred and fifty
thousand perished in the inquisition;
and a hundred and fifty thousand by
the Irish massacre ; besides the vast
multitude of whom the world could nev-

._
er be particularly informed, who were
proscribed, banished, burned, starved,
buried alive, smothered, suffocated,
drowned, assassinated, chained to the
galleys for life, or immured within the
horrid walls of the Bastile, or others of
their church or state prisons. Ac-
cording to some, the whole number of
persons massacred since the rise of Pa-
pacy, amounts to fifty millions !
(h) WAY THEY WOULD SERVE
HERETICS.—A correspondent of the
Protestant Vindicator, says :
A lady who lived in Kingston, U. C .,
told me she formerly belonged to the
Roman church. A large family Bible had
been given her, a heretic Bible, or the
word of God, in which were entered the
names of all her family, her marriage,
births,.&c., and for which she felt much
veneration and regard. The Vicar
General or Priest came to her house,
saw the venerable book, asked what it
was, of which he obtained a complete
history-—he said, “ For shame !——Wh at !
you pretend to be a good Catholic, and
have a vile heretic Bible in your house
—I am astonished at you: send it out
—send it out immediately, or the thing
will bring a curse upon you, and all
your family. She said she wished to
keep it, on account of the names of all
her family being inserted in it. He
replied, oh! never mind that, you must
not keep the foolish thing in your house,
it will spoil you, and all your children.
He left the house in a rage, and thei
sent a person, who demanded and real
ly took from her, her valuable treasure,
her Bible.
She also sent some of her children to
I a Protestant Sunday School——they conse-
quently had Tracts, and Sunday School
books given to them. He took away all
the poor children’s books—-had a fire
kindled in some part of the Popish chap-
el ; called a meeting, and lu'nz.self tore
the little books to pieces, leaf after leaf:
and threw them into the flames, saying,
thus we serve l1crcfic books, and thus
ought all hcreiz'cs to be served.
(i) KILL THEM ALL.—The Al.
bigensian war, in the beginning of the
thirteenth century, commenced With the
storming of Bezieres, and a massacre
in which fifteen thousand persons, or
581
298
PAPACY.
according to some accounts, sixty thou-
sand, were put to the sword. Not a
living soul escaped, as witnesses assure
us. It was here that a Cistercian Monk,
who led on the Crusaders, being asked
if the Catholics were to be distinguished
from‘ heretics, answered, “ Kill them
all! God will know his own.”
THE HERMIT OF LIVRY.—
In the forest of Livry, three leagues
distant from Paris, and not far from the
site of an ancient abbey of the order of
St. Augustin, lived a hermit, who having
chanced in his wanderings to fall in
with some of the men of Meaux, had
received the truth of the Gospel into his
heart. The poor hermit had felt him-
self rich indeed that day in his solitary
retreat, when, along with the scanty
dole of bread which public charity had
afforded him, he brought home Jesus
Christ and his grace. He understood
from that time how much better it is to
give than to receive. He went from
cottage to cottage in the villages around,
and as soon as he crossed the thres-
hold, began to speak to the poor peasants
of the gospel, and the free pardon WI11Cl'1
it offers to every burdened soul, a par-
don infinitely more precious than any
priestly absolution. The good hermit
of Livry was soon widely known in the
neighborhood of Paris; many came to
visit him at his poor hermitage, and he
discharged the office of a kind and
faithful missionary to the simple-minded
in all the adjacent districts.
It was not long before intelligence of
what was doing by the new evangelist
reached the ear of the Sorbonne, and the
magistrates of Paris. The hermit was
seized-—dragged from his hermitage—
from his forest-—from the fields he had
daily traversed,—thrown into a dungeon
in that great city which he had always
shunned,-—brought to judgment,—con-
victed,--and sentenced to “the exem-
plary punishment of being burnt by a
slow fire.’ ’
In order to render the example the
more striking, it was determined that he
should be burnt in the close of N otre
Dame ; before that celeb rated cathe-
dral, which typifies the majesty of the
Roman Catholic Church. The whole
Q"the clergy were convened, and a de-

_.
gree of pomp was displayed equal ta
that of the most solemn festivals. A
desire was shown to attract all Paris,
if possible, to the place of execution.
“ The great bell of the church of Notre
Dame swinging heavily,” says an his-
torian, “to reuse the people all over
Paris.” And accordingly from every
surrounding avenue, the people came
flocking to the spot. The deep-toned
reverberations of the bell made the
workman quit his task, the student cast
aside his books, the shop-keeper forsake
his traffick, the soldier start from the
guard-room bench,-—and already the
close was filled with a dense crowd,
which was continually increasing. The
hermit attired in the robes appropriated
to obstinate heretics, bareheaded, and
with bare feet, was led out before the
doors of the cathedral. Tranquil, firm
and collected, he replied to the exhorta-
tions of the confessors, who presented
him with the crucifix, only by declarmg
that his hope rested solely on the mercy
of God. The doctors of the Sorbonne,
who stood in the front rank of the spec-
tators, observing his constancy, and the
effect it produced upon the people, cried
aloud--“He is a man foredoomed to
the fires of hell.” The clang of the
great bell, which all this while was
rung with a rolling stroke, while it
stunned the ears of the multitude, served
to heighten the solemnity of that mourn-
ful spectacle. At length the bell was
silent,——and the martyr having answer-
ed the last interrogatory of his adver-
saries, by saying that he was resolved
to die in the faith of his Lord Jesus
Christ, underwent his sentence of being
“burnt by a slow fire.” And so, in
the cathedral close of Notre Dame, be-
neath the stately towers erected by the
piety of Louis the younger, amidst the
cries and tumultuous excitement of a
vast population, died pea-ceably, a man
whose name history has not deigned to
t:ansmit to us,-—“ the hermit of Livry.”
(Ir) OCCURRENCE IN CUBA.-—
In December, 1830, (says a traveler,)
I went to Cuba, With an intention of re-
maining at Havanna some months in
the transaction of business. On one
of the Popish festival days, about the
new-year, I was walking alone, when I
582
HOSTILITY TO THE BIBLE.
299
—
met two shaven-crowned Jesuits in their
‘long cloaks-—one bearing an image of
the Virgin Mary, and theiother carry-
ing in his hand a crucifix. They im-
mediately assailed me, and insisted that
I should fall down on my knees to
honor the image. I resisted their de-
mand to comply with this baneful abo-
mination. In consequence of my re-
fusal, one of the priests struck me
several times with the crucifix. When
I attempted to Ward off the blows, the
other Jesuit came to his assistance;
upon which I laid hold of the image,
and the idol was almost pulled to pieces
in the scufile. In a very short time, a
number of Spaniards with their knives
and dirks came around me, and after
threatening to take my life upon the
spot, dragged me to prison. Then the
monks, who judged the cause, con-
demned me to be kept on board a
Spanish man-of-war for life; but the
consul, to whom I applied for protection,
preserved me, so that my punishment
was changed to pay thirty-four dollars
fine, and to be reshipped back to A me-
rica.
Q99. Hostility to tho Biblo.
(a) ADVICE OF THE BOI-IEMIAN
BISHOPS.——-It is stated, in the life of
Ridley the reformer, that, in October,
1553, a closet council of Roman bish-
ops was held at Bononia, to advise the
pope as the best means of checking
the progress of the reformation. After
making many very curious concessions,
the bishops of Termuhn, Capralae, and
Thessalonica, thus concluded their ad-
dress to Pope Julius III :——“ But we
have reserved the most considerable
advice, which we could at this time
give your highness, to the last. And
here you must be awake, and exert all
your force to hinder, as much as you
possibly can, the gospel from being
read, (especially in the vulgar tongue,)
in all the cities that are under your
dominion. Let that little taste of it
wnich they have in the mass serve their
turn, nor suffer any mortal to read any
thing more; for as long as men were
contented with that little, things went

to your mind, but grew worse and worse
from the time that they commonly read
more. This, in short, is the book that
has, beyond all others, raised these
storms and tempests, in which We are
almost driven to destruction. And
really, whosoever shall diligently weigh
the Scripture, and then consider all the
things that are usually done in our
churches, will find that there is 9 great
difference between them; and that this
doctrine of ours is very unlike, and in
many things quite repugnant to it.”
(h) PRIEST BURNING THE BI-
BLE.—ln the year 1833, a poor family
in Ireland, of the name of M’Gennis,
was greatly distressed by the painful
illness of a young girl, who, after linger-
ing some time, gave signs of approach-
ing dissolution. She was attended by
the priests of the Romish church, to
which the family belonged, one of whom
discovered, shortly before her decease,
that she had repaired for support and
comfort in her affliction to a forbidden
source. In the wretched hut was a
Bible, which the sufferer had received
as a reward, at a Protestant minister’s
free school ; and the priest commanded
that it should be instantly destroyed.
The dying girl shnddered; the aged
parent entreated that the book might be
spared; but he was inexorable. and de-
manded that it should be burned in his
presence. The father now declared
that it should not be done under his
roof; and the incensed priest, rushing
from the hut with the Bible in his
hand, placed it upon a fire of turf,
kindled in the open air, and thus deli-
berately destroyed it in the daytime, in
the presence of numbers, and in the
high road! Nor is this a solitary case.
(0) ENOUGH BAD BOOKS AL-
RE AI)Y.——T he following is fron1 “Les
Archives du Christianisme,” a French
religious monthly publication:
We can attest the truth of the follow-
ing fact. At a sale, made after the
death of the minister of the village of
Dosenheim, (Lower Rhin-e,) when the
books of the deceased were about to be
sold, tne Romish minister of a neighbor-
ing parish seized a wlmne, declaring
that there were enough of bad books in
the world already, ani this should not
583
299,300
PAPACY.
be sold. It was not sold, and the reader
will be more afflicted than surprised, to
hear, that this bad book (as he called
it) was the New Testament of our Lord
and Savior Jesus Christ!
(d) “ SINCE ADAM WAS A BOY.”
—VVho would belong to a church which
withholds from its members the inspired
volume? We copy the following fact
from a periodical called “ The Thistle,”
published in 1836:
Not long since, when priest WV., of
Corofin, was passing by some men and
boys who were engaged in breaking
stones for a new read, now in progress
in the neighborhood of Carhue, he said,
that the road there would be of great
use ; “and it is a long time,” said he,
“since there was a road in this place.”
“Not since Adam was a boy,” re-
marked one of the men. “And when
was that? can you tell me '2” said
priest VV. “ No, sir, I cannot,” replied
the man. The same question was asked
of several persons, and a similar reply
given. At length the priest turned to a
young boy, and said, “Can you tell me,
my lad, when Adam was a boy ?”
“ Sir, Adam never was a boy ; God
created him man, and made him perfect
also.” “Are ye not ashamed,” said
the priest, “ to be excelled by a young
boy like this '2” “No,” answered one
of those appealed to, “ we are not ; that
boy reads the Scriptures, and has them
explained to him; that is what is not
done to us, and we are prevented from
reading them ourselves.” Priest VV.
rode away without making any reply.
(e) THE ARROGANT AVOWAL.
—-—An English ofiicer, who was once at
Valenciennes, states the following fact,
which came under his own observation.
A number of Bibles in French had been
sent from England to the above city,
for sale or distribution. Many of the
people received them with gratitude,
and read them with avidity; but the
priest getting information of the matter,
ordered all the Bibles to be returned.
The En glish officer, who was acquainted
with lnm, asked the reason of this, to
which he gave the following truly
Popish reply :——“ I teach the people
every thing that is necessary for them
to know 1”

__-_
(f) THE PRIEST OUTWITTED.
—An elderly female, of the Roman
Catholic persuasion, residing near Mont-
real, in Canada, having obtained a
Bible, was visited by her priest, who
earnestly endeavored to prevail on her
to give it up. Finding he could not
persuade her to relinquish her treasure,
he attempted to induce her to sell it;
offering first five, then ten, fifteen, and
at last twenty dollars. The good we-
man, after refusing these offers, at
length consented to sell it for twenty-
five dollars. The priest agreed, the
money was paid, the obnoxious volume
was given up, and he departed in
triumph. But the old woman set otf
immediately to Montreal, and, with the
priest’s twenty-five dollars, purchased
twenty-five new Bibles, for herself and
her neighbors.
$00. Idolatry.
(a) VIRGIN OF GAUDALOUPE.
-—About ten years after what the Span
iards call “ The Conquest,” the cele-
brated apparition of the Virgin de Gau-
daloupe, made its appearance in the fol-
lowing manner. Adjacent to the city
of Mexico is a hill entirely barren;
an Indian accidentally passing heard
sounds of \music, and, at the same time,
saw an aerial female figure in a pray-
ing attitude. The Indian, alarmed at
the vision, fled; but passing near the
hill a few days afterwards, the same
strange occurrence again took place.
The figure called him by name, and
told him to repair to the spot on a cer-
tain day, and he would find her picture
buried under a heap of roses ;—he did
so, and met with it as directed. The
Indian carried this mysterious figure to
the Bishop of Mexico, who was, of
course, in the secret. A solemn con-
clave of the clergy took place, and the
Bishop, with the most profound rever-
ence, knelt before the picture and nam-
ed it Neuestra Senora de Gaudaloupe.
A magnificent church was built for her
reception, and she received the exalted
title of “Patroness g"llleccz'co, ” which
she enjoys to the present day. This is
the origin of the Virgin de Gaudaloupe,
conformably to the records of the church
584
IDOLATRY.
300
now existing at Mexico. The original
picture is still exhibited in the Virgin’s
Church ; it is painted on a cloth of lin-
en manufacture, called “ Uangochi, ”
composed of coarse threads spun from
the fibres of the aloe (Agava Ameri-
cana) and woven very wide apart.
The Indians and the Creoles say, that
he picture is miraculous, because, as
you approach it, the painting becomes
less visible, and when quite close all
traces of the picture disappear; their
blind superstition not permitting them
to discover that the open texture of the
material upon which it is painted, is
the cause of this disappearance.
A priest told the writer of the
above, another circumstance respecting
the Virgin, respecting another part of
the miracle, viz., that the picture was
found under a heap of roses in the
winter season, and on a spot where
those flowers had never bloomed. It
never occurred to the priest that, a few
leagues from this barren hill the climate
was quite different and where roses
grow throughout the year. Conse-
quently the persons who painted the pic-
ture of the Virgin did not require any
celestial aid to procure a bed of roses.
In such veneration do the Indians
and lower order of Creoles (and indeed
many of the middling and higher class-
es,) hold their patroness, that they
have paintings of her in all their hous-
es, invoke her in all their prayers, and
implore her assistance in all their dif-
ficulties.
(b) NEW-FOUND IMAGE.—-Says
the Rev. Blanco I/Vhite, “I will tell
you what happened at Madrid, during
a residence of three years which I
made in that most Roman Catholic cap-
ital. In one of the meanest parts of
the town the ragged children, who are
always running about the streets, found
an old picture which had been thrown,
with other rubbish, upon a dunghill.
Not knowing what the picture was,
they tied to it a piece of rope, and
were dragging it about, when an old
woman in the neighborhood looked at
the canvas, and found upon it the head
sf a Virgin Mary. Her screams of
horror at the profanation which she be-
aeld scared away the children and the

I__-_
old woman was left in possession of the
treasure. The gossips of the neigh-
borhood were anxious to make some
amends to the picture for the past ne-
glect and ill-treatment, and they all
contributed towards the expense of
burning a lamp, day and night, before
it, in the old woman’s house. A priest
getting scent of what was going on_.
took the scratched virgin under his pat-
ronage, framed the canvas, and added
another light. All the rich folks who
heard of this new-found image came to
pray before it, and gave something to
the priest and the old woman, who were
now in close partnership. In - very
short time the amount of the daily dona-
tions enabled the joint proprietors of the
picture to build a fine chapel, with a
comfortable house adjoining it for them-
selves. The chapel was crowded from
morning till night; not a female, high
or low, but firmly believed that her life
and safety depended upon the favor of
that particular picture: the rich en-
deavored to obtain it by large sums of
money for masses to be performed, and
candles to be burned before it ; and the
poor stinted their necessary food to
throw a mite into the box which hung
at the door of the chapel. I do not re-
late to you old stories ; I state what I
myself have seen.”
(0) ST. PETER’S TOE.—I have
seen people, says a traveler, of all ranks
and ages prostrate themselves before
the statue of St. Peter at Rome, and af-
ter saying a short prayer most humbly
kiss his toe. To such an extent is this
carried, that the great toe of the image
(it is so wretched a thing I can hardly
call it a statue) is from time to time
worn away, and the brazier is called in
to supply another, that the toe-worship-
ers may not miss the object of their
adoration. But a letter would not suf-
fice to tell of half the instances that I
have seen acted before my eyes of the
most degrading superstition and image
worship.
(d) “ IT IS NOT MY FAULT.”-~
In Lisbon the priests once found or pre-
tended to have found an image, dug up
from the earth, and proclaimed it to be
the efligy of an eminent saint; it was
accordingly set up in one of the churches,
585
300
PAPACY.
where crowds of devotees assem-
bled to offer their devotions. To his
saintship was also referred the de-
cision of the disputed point, “who was
the legitimate monarch of Portugal,”
The officiating priest put the question in
an audible voice, “Is Don Pietro the
lawful sovereign of these realms '2” The
samt shook his head as a negative in-
dic;.ion. “Is Don Miguel the Sover-
eign ’2” The image nodded assent.
This was repeated on various occasions
to increased congregations, and was
considered by the multitude as an as-
tonishing miracie. At one time in the
presence of our informant, the first in-
quiry had been replied to as usual ; to
the second no answer was returned;
upon which the priest several times re-
peated the question, and at length as-
sumed great vehemence of manner,
when a boy popped out his head from
behind the curtain, and exclaimed, “ It
is not my fault, sir, the string is
broken.”
(e) CORONATION OF THE
VIRGIN .-—The following is a transla-
tion of a proclamation for the corona-
tion of an image of the Virgin :-
“The most reverend chapter of St.
Peter’s at Rome, in compliance with
the will of the count Alexander Sforza
Pallavicini, is accustomed to distribute
every year certain crowns of gold, to
decorate the brows of those images of
the blessed Virgin, the most celebrated
either for their antiquity, their wondrous
works, (query, prodigies or miracles '2)
or for their popularity, in order to in-
crease ever more and more the worship
of such images, and to excite the piety
and devotion of the faithful towards the
great mother of God.
“Now the above-mentioned most
reverend chapter, having listened to the
claims urged in favor of the image of the
immaculate conception, which is adored
in the church of J esu Vecchio, in Na-
ples, represented by a little wooden
statue, three feet high, with an infant
Jesus in its arms; and having found
these claims to be supported by satis-
factory evidence and solid documents,
have judged it right to award a golden
crown, not only to the image of the
Virgin, but also to that of the infant

’ -——~—-0 ¢_
Jesus in her arms. With this decision
the supreme pontiff, Leo XII, has sig
nified his approbation in his apostolic
brief, (query, bull '2) issued on the 2nd
of December, 1826 ; and he has not
only signified his approval of this act,
but has been pleased to grant an abun-
dant portion of grace and indulgence
to all who shall assist in the ceremony
of the coronation, or be present in the
church on that great day.’ ’ Then follow
the older to the archbishop to do it, and
the approbation of the king of Naples, as
well as all the prayers and hymns that
are to be said or sung to this little
wooden image, before and after the
coronation, etc. etc.
INFANT JESUS AT ROME.
——I went forth, says agentleman on the
continent, in 1825, at half past four in
the morning, to see an exhibition, which
is made at one of the first cathedrals in
Rome, (St. Mary the greater,) of the
infant Jesus in the cradle. The splen-
did edifice was brilliantly illuminated,
and crowded to excess: a large body
of priests, richly arrayed, with a mitred
bishop at their head were engaged in per-
forming mass. When this was over, they
moved in procession to one of the chapels,
at the side of the nave, which from the
lights, the marbles, the paintings, and
the gilded and jeweled altar, presented
a gorgeous spectacle ; hence they short-
ly issued, and made a procession round
the church bearing the crucifix, and a
large vase of glass, about the size of a
cradle, which had on its cover the golden
image of a child, and contained also a
representation of a new-born infant, in
wax. Returning to the chapel, the
priests commenced another mass.
With some difficulty we got admission
to the chapel: a cordon of soldiers be-
ing drawn round the entrance, and the
multitude pressing to see through the
open gates the exhibition within. We
found, under the altar-piece, a repre-
sentation of the birth of Christ, consist-
ing of figures in some material as white
as alabaster ; the infant W15 seen lying
in the manger, with rays 0.‘ gold round
its head, and two oxen feeding near it.
On one side, the virgin mother, with
clasped hands, was worshiping the
child ; and on the opposite side was
586
INDULGENCES.
30]
another figure in the same attitude.
But what surprised me most was to hear
occasionally, a short plaintive cry, evi-
dently proceeding from that part of the
chapel where the child was, and so ex-
actly resembling the cry of an infant,
that I supposed there must be a living
child in the place. I was confirmed, by
the opinion of those around me, as to
the quarter from whence the cry pro-
ceded; and I can therefore only con-
jecture that it was a contrivance of the
priests to impress more vividly upon the
minds of the multitude, the scene which
they wished to represent !
301. Indulgences.
(a) ST. PETER’S AT ROME.-
Pope Julius II began the building of
the magnificent church at Rome, but
left it unfinished. His successor, Leb
X, was desirous to complete this superb
edifice, but being involved in debt,
and finding the apostolic treasury ex-
hausted, he had recourse to the selling
of indulgences, a gainful traffic, for the
procuring a sufficient sum of money.
Accordingly, in 1517 he published gen-
eral indulgences throughout all Europe,
to such as would contribute to the
building of St. Peter’s. The sum of
ten shillings was suflicient to purchase
the pardon of sins, and the ransom of a
soul from purgatory !
(Z2) ABSOLUTION IN ADVANCE.
—-When Tetzel was at Leipsic, in the
sixteenth century, and had collected a
great deal of money from all ranks of
the people, a nobleman, who suspected
imposition, put the question to him,
“Can you grant absolution for a sin
which a man shall intend to co'mmit in
future '2” “Yes,” replied the frontless
commissioner; “ but on condition that
proper sum of money be actually
paid down.” The noble instantly pro-
duced the sum demanded ; and in return
received a diploma, sealed and signed
by Tetzel, absolving him from the un-
explained crime, which he secretly in-
tended to commit. Not long after, when
Tetzel was about to leave Leipsic, the no-
bleman made inquiry respecting the read
he would probably travel, waited for him
in ambush at a convenient place, attack-


ed and robbed him; then beat him
soundly withastick, sent him back to
Leipsic with his chest empty, and at
parting, said, “This is the fault I
intended to commit, and for which I
have your absolution.”
(c) SHOEMAKER OF HAG-
ENAU.—-The dealers in indulgences
had established themselves at Hagenau
in 1517. The wife of a shoemaker
profiting by the permission given in the
instruction of the commissary-general,
had procured against her husband’s
will, a letter of indulgence, and had
paid for it a gold florin. Shortly after,
she died ; and the widower omitting to
have mass said for the repose of her
soul the curate charged him with con-
tempt of religion, and the judge of
Hagenau summoned him to appear be-
fore him. The shoemaker put in his
pocket his wife’s indulgence, and re-
paired to the place of summons. “ Is
your wife dead 2” asked the judge.
“ Yes,” answered the shoemaker.
“ What have you done with her '2” “I
buried her and commended her soul to
God.” “But have you had a mass
said for the salvation of her soul 2” “ I
have not—it was not necessary ;——she
went to heaven in the moment of her
death.” How do you know that ”—-
“Here is the evidence of it.” The
widower drew from his pocket the indul-
gence, and the judge in presence of the
curate, read, in so many words, that in
the moment of death, the woman who
had received it would go, not into pur-
gatory, but straight into heaven. “If
the curate pretends that a mass is neces-
sary after that,” said the shoemaker,
“my wife has been cheated by our
holy father the Pope; but if she has
not been cheated, then the curate is de-
ceiving me.” There was no reply to
this defence, and the accused was ac-
quitted. It was thus that the good
sense of the people disposed of these im-
postures.
(d) CROSS IN SWITZERLAND.
—-In Switzerland, says Bishop Wilson
we actually saw on a cross, by the roan
side, this notice: “ The archbishop of
Chamberry and the bishop of Geneva
grant forty days’ indulgence to all those
who shall say before this cross a Patv,
587
30l-----303
PAPACY.
* —-
and an Ave-Maria, with an act of con-
trition, 1819.”
(e) BLACKAMOOR VIRGIN.—-
At Dijon, as I walked along, wrote the
Rev. Dr. Wilson, bishop of Calcutta, in
1823, I observed on all the churches
an immense placard. Istopped, from
mere curiosity, to see what it was. It
was an advertisement of a new edition
of the History of the Miraculous Image
of N otre Dame, at Dijon. I hurried to
the church, and looked all around: I
saw a gaudily embellished building,
filled with altars, and pictures, and
statues, but no image that, I could dis.
cover. Iwent out and inquired of an
elderly woman. She took me up to an
altar on which was the statue of the
Virgin, resembling that of a blacka-
moor, and decked out with tawdry or-
naments. I afterwards bought the
book; it positively asserts that various
miracles have been performed by this
wretched figure! Nay more, indul-
gences are granted to all who worship
this image, and a society is formed to
celebrate feasts to her honor. As the
image is black, the author attempts to
prove, very gravely, that the Virgin
Mary was of a swarthy complexion!
302. Confession and Absolution.
(a) FREE SPOKEN AMBASSA-
DOR.—-After the death of Charles
V1, the Spanish Ambassador, Don Pe-
dro Rouguillo, at his first audience of
the new king James VI, being request-
ed to state freely his opinion of the
state of affairs in England, his excel-
lency told James, “that he saw several
priests about his majesty, who would
importune him to alter the established re-
ligion in England, but prayed him not to
hearken to their advice, lest his majesty
should repent of it when it was too
late.” The king being a good deal
displeased with this counsel, asked the
ambassador with some zeal, “ whether
it was not customary in Spain to advise
with their confessors 2" “Yes, sir,”
replied the ambassador,“ we do so, and
that’s the reason our affairs succeed so
ill.”
(b) A PENITENT ROGUE.—A
Roman Catholic, who had filled up the

measure of his iniquities, as far as he
dared, went to the priest, to confess and
obtain absolution. He entered the
apartment of the priest, and addressed
him: “Holy father, I have sinned.”
The priest bid him kneel before the
penitential chair. The penitent was
looking about and he saw the priest’s
gold watch lying upon the table within
his reach. He seized it and put it in
his bosom. The priest approached him
and requested him! to acknowledge the
sins for which he wished absolution.
“Father,” said the rogue, “I have
stolen, and what shall I do '2”
“ Restore,” said the priest, “ the thing
you have stolen, to its rightful owner.”
“ Do you take it '2’ ’ said the penitent.
“ No, I shall not,” said the priest;
“ you must give it to the owner.”
“ But he has refused to take it.”
“If this be the case you may keep
it.”
The priest granted him full absolu-
tion.——The penitent knelt and kissed his
hand, craved his benediction, crossed
himself, and departed with a clear con-
science, and a very valuable gold watch
into the bargain.
808. Inquisition.
(a) WHITE AND HIS MOTHER.
———Blanco White remarks, “Believe a
man, who has spent the best years of
his life where Roman Catholicism is
professed without the check of dissent-
ing opinions, where it luxuriates on the
soil which fire and sword have cleared
of whatever might stint its natural
and genuine growth; a growth inces-
santly watched over by the head of the
church, and his authorized representa-
tives, the inquisitors.”
He then states, “ I had a mother, re-
markable for the powers of her mind,
and the goodness of her heart. N 0 we-
man could love her children more
ardently, and none of those children was
more vehemently loved than myself.
But the Roman Catholic creed had
poisoned in her the purest source of
affection. I saw her during a long
period unable to restrain her tears in
my presence. I perceived that she
shunned my conversation, especially
588
INQUISITION.
303
'm’ m
when my university friends drew me
into topics above those of domestic talk.
I loved her, and this behavior cut me
to the heart. In my distress I applied
to a friend to whom she used to commu-
nicate all her sorrows: and, to my ut-
ter horror, I learned, that suspecting
me of anti-catholic principles, my me-
ther was distracted by the fear that she
might be obliged to accuse me to the
Inquisition, if I incautiously uttered
BOIIIG condemned proposition in her
presence! To avoid the barbarous
necessity of being the instrument of
my ruin, she could find no other
means but that of shunning my pre-
sence! Did this unfortunate mother
overrate or mistake the nature of her
Roman Catholic duties '5 By no means.
The Inquisition was established by the
supreme authority of her church, and
under that authority she was enjoined
to accuse any person whatever, whom
she might overhear uttering heretical
opinions. No exception was made in
favor of fathers, children, husbands,
wives; to conceal Was to abet their er-
rors, and thus doom two souls to eternal
perdition! A sentence of excommuni-
cation, to be incurred by the fact of
having thus acted, was annually pub-
lished against all persons, who having
heard a proposition, directly or indirect-
ly, contrary to the Roman Catholic faith,
omitted to inform the inquisitors of it.
Could any sincere Roman Catholic
slight such a command ?” Protestants,
what think ye of such a system '2
(l2) ADMIRAL PYE AND THE
INQUISITORS.—Admiral Pye of Eng-
land, having been on a visit to South-
ampton, and the gentleman under
whose roof he resided observing an un-
usual intimacy between him and his
secretary, inquired into the degree of
their relationship, as he wished to pay
him suitable attention. The admiral
informed him that they were not relat-
ed, but their intimacy arose from a sin-
gular circumstance, which, by his per-
mission, he would relate. The ad-miral
said, when he was a captain, he was
cruising in the Mediterranean. I/Vhile
on that station he received a letter from
shore, stating that the unhappy author
of the letter was by birth an English-

—_
man; that, having been a voyage to
Spain, he was enticed, while there, to
become a Papist, and, in process of time,
was made a member of the Inquisition ;
that there he beheld the abominable
wickedness and barbarities of the inqui-
sitors. His heart recoiled at having
embraced a religion so horribly cruel
and so repugnant to the nature of God ;
that he was stung with remorse to think
that, if his parents knew what and
where he was, their hearts would break
with grief; that he was resolved to escape
if he (the captain) would send a boat on
shore at such a time and place; but
begged secrecy, since, if his intentions
were discovered, he should be imme-
diately assassinated. The captain re-
turned for answer that he could not
with propriety send a boat, but if he
could devise any means to come on
oard, he would receive him as a Brit-
ish subject and protect him. He did so;
but, being missed, there was soon raised
a hue and cry, and he was followed to
the ship.
A holy inquisitor demanded him, bet
he was refused. Another, in the name
of his holiness the pope, claimed him,
but the captain did not know him or
any other master but his own sovereign,
King George. At length a third holy
brother approached. The young man
recognised him at a distance, and, in
terror, ran to the captain, entreating
him not to be deceived by him, for he
was the most false, wicked, and cruel
monster in all the Inquisition. He was
introduced, the young man being pre-
sent; and, to obtain his object, began
with the bitterest accusations against
him; then he turned to the most ful-
some flatteries of tne captain; and,
lastly, offered him a sum of money to
resign him. The captain treated him
with apparent attention; said his offer
was very handsome, and, if what he af-
firmed were true, the person in quest.' an
was unworthy of the English name or
of his protection. The holy brother
was elated; he thought his errand was
accomplished. VVhile drawing his
purse-strings, the captain inquired what
punishment would be inflicted upon him.
He replied that it was uncertain; but
as his offences were atrocious, it was
589
304
PAPACY.
—_ --
likely that his punishment would be ex-
emplary The captain asked if he
thought he would be burned in a dry
pan. He replied, that must be determin-
ed by the holy Inquisition, but it was not
improbable.
The captain then ordered the great
copper to be heated, but no water to be
put in. All this while the young man
stood trembling ; his cheeks resembling
death; he expected to become an un-
happy victim to avarice and superstition.
The cook soon announced that the orders
were executed. “ Then I command
you to take this fellow,” pointing to the
inquisitor, “ and fry him alive in the
copper.” This unexpected command
thunderstruck the holy father. Alarm-
ed for himself, he rose to be gone. The
cook began to bundle him away. “ Oh,
good captain ! good captain! spare,
spare me, spare me I” “ Have him
away I” replied the captain. “Oh no,
my good captain I” “ Have him away I
I’ll .each him to attempt to bribe a
British commander to sacrifice the life
of an Englishman to gratify a herd of
bloody men.” Down the inquisitor fell
upon his knees, offering him all his
money, and promising never to return
if he would let him begone. I/Vhen
the captain had sufficiently alarmed him,
he dismissed him, warning him never
to come again on such an errand. What
must have been the reverse of feelings
in the young man to find himself thus
happily delivered! He fell upon his
knees in a flood of tears before the cap-
tain, and poured out a thousand bless-
ings upon his brave and noble deliverer.
“This,” said the admiral to the gentle-
man, “ is the circumstance that began
our acquaintance. I took him to be my
servant ; he served me from affection ;
mutual attachment ensued; and it has
inviolably subsisted and increased to
this day.”
304. Praying to and for the Dead.
(a) BEATIFICATION OF ST.
.lULlAN.——The following account is
given in a letter from Rome, dated May
28, in the year 1825 :-—
“On W'hitmonday was beatified, in
St Peter’s at Rome, a Spanish Francis-

can friar, named St. Julian da St. Agos-
tino. The church was hung with crim-
son damask, illuminated with wax can-
dles, and ornamented with large paint-
ings, representing several miracles as-
cribed to him while living, as well as
after his decease. One of them afford-
ed considerable amusement. It repre-
sented St. Julian, who it seems was cook
to his convent, in the act of taking seve-
ral half-roasted birds from a spit, and
restoring them to life, clothing them
miraculously with feathers, and ena-
bling them to fly away! The Te Dean:
was sung, and followed by a prayer
addressed to this new saint. High mass
concluded the ceremony; and in the
afternoon the pope entered the church,
and prayed before the portrait of the
new St. Julian.”
(b) BUONAVANTURA’S BEA
TIFlCATION.—-When Dr. Moore was
at Rome, in 1775, a new saint, called
St. Buonavantura, was added to the list.
Dr. M. was present at the first part of
the ceremony usual on these occasions,
which is called the beatification of a
saint, and has given a full account of the
particulars. For several days previous-
ly, a very large picture of the proposed
saint was hung up in front of St. Peter’s
church, and printed papers announcing
the ceremony were distributed, particu-
larly by the Franciscan monks, of whose
order he had been a member. On the
day fixed for the solemnity, the pope
with many cardinals and other ecclesi-
astics attended; a long discourse was
pronounced by a Franciscan friar, set-
ting forth the devotions, penances, and
charitable actions of the saint, and enu-
merating the miracles he had performed
when alive, and those effected after his
death by his bones. The most remark-
able among these, was his replenishing
a lady’s cupboard with bread, after her
housekeeper had, by the saint’s desire,
given to the poor all the leaves she had
in the family.
This orator was opposed as usual by
another, who is called the advocate for
the devil, and objects to the miracles of
the saint, his life and conduct, etc. etc.
This controversy was drawn out to a.
great length; but at length the claim-
ant was admitted to the privileges of
590
MIRACLES.
80/1, 303

beatification, which Dr. M. says the
church of Rome considers “ as entitling
he saint to more distinction in heaven
than before ; but he has not the power
of freeing souls from purgatory till he
has been canonized, and therefore is not
addressed in prayer till he has obtained
the second honor.” We may here ob-
serve, that the pope decrees who are to
be considered as saints, and thus pro-
fesses to know who are in heaven.
(c) SHRINE OF THOMAS A
BECKET.-—The shrine of Thomas a
Becket, at Canterbury, was once pro-
fitable. It was valued abundantly more
than the shrine of the Virgin Mary, or
of Christ ; for, in one year, there was
offered at Christ’s altar, £3 2s. 6d., at
the Virgin’s, £63 5s. 6d., but at St.
Thomas’s, £832 12s. 3d. And the
next year was offered at Christ’s, NO-
THING; at the Virgin’s, £4 1s. 8d., but
at Becket’s, £954 6s. 3d. A jubilee
of fifteen days was ordained for Beck-
et, at Rome, every fiftieth year, and
indulgence was granted to all that
would visit his shrine. In the sixth
jubilee, in 1420, 100,000 strangers
visited his tomb ; and brought with them
immense wealth.
(at) FLOGGING THE RELICS.
——Galbert, monk of Marchiennes, in-
forms us of a strange act of devotion in
his time, and which is indeed attested
by several contemporary writers. VVhen
the saints did not readily comply With
the prayers of their votaries, they flog-
ged these relics with rods in a spirit of
impatience ; a chastisement which they
supposed would bend the saints into
compliance!
(e) PAPAL BLASPHEMY.—-Dur_
ing the great drought of the summer of
1824, in Spain, prayers were offered up
in all the churches for rain, and amongst
others in that of the village of Las
Cabezas de San Juan, in Andalusia,
where the unfortunate Riego proclaim-
ed the constitution. But it was in vain
that the patron St. Nicholas was invok-
ed and worshiped, not a drop of rain fell.
However, on a Sunday, as the faithful
were at their devotions in his church,
they perceived a letter in the hands of
the saint. Some of the most devout
approached to talte it, but though St.

Nicholas was of no more yielding ma-
terial than wood, yet he raised the hand
that held the letter, which appeared an
unequivocal sign that he was unwilling
to deliver it. The Cure, being inform-
ed of the circumstances, came in full
canonicals to the saint, and prayed him
humbly to give him the letter, which
the saint, by lowering his hand, acceded
to; and the Cure took the missive and
read it to the assembly, to their infinite
edification. The letter was composed
in the following terms :—-
Abodes of the Blessed, May 1, 18:24.
" MY BELOVED I\IICHOLAS,——I have
heard your continual prayers to me, to
send down rain upon your country : you
have no doubt forgotten the crimes with
which your rebel village is stained, and
which are the cause of the drought
which afflicts unfortunate Spain. It is
in vain that you ask for water; at pre-
sent it is impossible for me to oblige
you. Except rain, ask any thing else
you wish from
Your ever Affectionate,
THE ETERNAL FATHFRll”
305. ltliracles.
(a) GREAT CURE BY RELICS
OF DOGS AND CATS.-—IVhen the
reformation was spreading in Lithuania,
Prince Radzivil was so affected that he
went in person to visit the Pope, and pay
him all possible honors. His holiness,
on this occasion, presented him with a
box of precious relics. Having return-
ed home, the report of this invaluable
possession was spread; and, at length,
some monks entreated permission to try
the effect of these relies on a demoniac
who had hitherto resisted every kind of
exorcism. They were brought into the
church with solemn pomp, deposited on
the altar, and an innumerable crowd at-
tended. After the usual conjurations,
they applied the relics. The demoniac
instantly became well. The people
called out, “ A Miracle I” and the
prince, lifting up his hands and eyes tr.
heaven, felt his faith confirmed. In
this transport of pious joy, he observed
a young gentleman, who was keeper of
this rich treasure of relics, to smile, and
appear by his motions to ridicule the
591
305
PAPACY.
miracle. The prince, with violent in-
dignation, took our young keeper of the
relics to task ; who, on promise of par-
don, gave the following secret intelli-
gence concerning them :——He assured
him, that in traveling from Rome he had
lost the box of relics ; and that, not dar-
ing to mention it, he had procured a
similar one which he had filled with the
small bones of dogs and cats, and other
trifies, similar to what was lost. He
hoped that he might be forgiven for smil-
ing, when he found that such a collec-
tion of rubbish was idolized with such
pomp, and had even the virtue of expel-
ling demons. It was by the assistance
of this box that the prince discovered
the gross imposition of the monks and
demoniacs, and he afterwards became a
zealous Lutheran.
(Z2) THE AUTOMATON JESUS.
—In the monastery at Isenach, (says
Luther,) stands an image which I have
seen. When a wealthy person came
hither to pray to it (it was Mary with her
child), the child turned away his face
from the sinner to the mother; but if
the sinner gave liberally to that monas-
tery, then the child turned to him again ;
and if he promised to give more, then
the child showed itself very friendly
and loving, and stretched out its arms
over him in the form of a cross. But
this picture and image was made hollow
within, and prepared with locks, lines,
and screws ; and behind it stood a knave
to move them,--and so were the people
mocked and deceived, who took it to be
a miracle I
(0) MIRACLE OF THE OMELET.
-—A priest in extreme poverty resolved
to get credit for a miracle. He put the
yolks of several eggs in a hollow cane,
and stopped the end with butter; then,
walking into an alehouse, he begged to
fry a single egg for his dinner. The
smallness of his repast excited curiosi-
ty, and they gave him a morsel of lard.
He stirred the lard with his cane, and,
to the wonder of the surrounding pea-
sants, produced a handsome omelet.—-
This miracle established his fame; he
sold omelets and get rich by his inge-
uuity.
(d) THE MONK AND THE MAG-
PIE ~-St. Anthony is thought to have

had a great command over fire, and
power of destroying by that element
those who incurred his displeasure. A
certain monk of St. Anthony one day
assembled his congregation under a tree
where a magpie had built her nest, into
which he had found means to convey a
small box filled with gunpowder, and
out of the box hung a long thin match
that was to burn siowly, and that was
hidden among the leaves of the trees.
As soon as the monk or his assistant had
touched the match with a lighted coal,
the friar began his sermon ; in the mean
while the magpie returned to her ~nest,
and finding in it a strange body which
she could not remove, she fell into a
passion and scratched with her feet
most vehemently. The friar affected
to hear without emotion, and continued
his sermon with great composure, only
he would now and then lift up his eyes
towards the top of the tree, as if he
wanted to know what was the matter.
At last, when he judged that the match
was near reaching the gunpowder, he
pretended to be out of patience; he
cursed the magpie, wished St. Anthony’ s
fire might consume her, and went on
again with his sermon. But he had
scarcely proceeded two or three periods,
when the match on a sudden produced
its effect, and blew up the magpie with
its nest; which miracle wonderfully
raised the character of the friar, and
proved afterwards very beneficial to him
and his convent.
(e) A MARTYR MAKING OFF
WITH HIS HEAD.—Among the many
strange things related in the Roman bre-
viary for the edification of the faithful,
is the following, concerning Dionysius,
the Roman saint :
Dionysius, having now passed his
hundredth year, was struck with the
axe on the seventh of the ides of Octo-
ber; concerning whom tradition relates
that he took up his head, when cut off
and carried it in his hands two miles,
&c. Die ix. Octobris.
Think of this, reader; “ a man run-
ning two miles with his head in his
hands!”
(f) PLAYING THE DEVIL.--A
singular occurrence took place abou
1824, in a village called Artes, nea
592
MIRACLES.
.-|._--—__' _-u-_
305
Hostalreich, about twelve leagues from
Barcelona. A constitutionalist being
at the point of death, his brother called
on the curate, and requested him to
come and administer the sacrament.
The curate refused, saying, “ Your bro-
ther is a constitutionalist, that is to say,
a villain, an impious wretch, and an
enemy to God and man; he is damned
without mercy, and it is therefore use-
less for me to confess him !” “ But who
told you that my brother was damned ?”
“\Vho told me ?” replied the curate;
“ why, God himself!” “ What I” cried
the astonished Spaniard, “ has God spok-
en to you '2” “ Yes,” answered the eu-
rate with assurance ; “ God spoke to me
during the sacrifice of the mass, and
told me your brother was damned to all
the devils.” It was in vain that the
brother had reiterated his entreaties, the
curate was inexorable. A few days
after, the o,nstitutionalist died, and the
brother returned to the curate to beg
him to perform the funeral ceremonies
on the body. The curate refused, say-
ing, “ The soul of your brother is now
burning in hell, as I told you before. It
would be in vain for me to take any
trouble about inteiring his body, for du-
ring the night the devils will come and
carry it away, and in forty days you
yourself will meet with the same fate.”
The Spaniard not giving implicit credit
to this diabolical visit, watched during
the night by the body of his brother
with his pistols loaded. Between twelve
and one o’cloek a knock was heard at
the door, and a voice exclaimed, “ I
command you to open, in the name of
the living God ;—-open, if not, your in-
stant ruin is at hand.” The Spaniard
refused to open, and shortly after, he
saw enter by a window, three able-
bodied devils, covered with skins of wild
beasts, having the usual quantity of
horns, claws, and spiked tails, who set
about carrying off the cofiin containing
the body. Upon this the Spaniard fired,
and shot one devil dead. The others
took to flight; he fired after them, and
wounded both, one of whom died in a
few minutes, the other escaped. In the
morning, when the people went to
church, there was no curate to ofiiciate,
and it was shortly after discovered, on

examining the two defunct devils, that
one was the curate, the other the vicar ;
the wounded devil was the sacristan,
who confessed the whole diabolical af
fair.
(g) GIVING SIGHT TO THE
BLIND.—-In the Life of Mary Queen
of Scots, by Henry Glassford Bell, Esq. ,
we find the following account of a pre-
tended miracle upon a blind boy. The
author was certainly not induced to give
this account from any partiality to the
Scottish Reformers, of whom he speaks
in no friendly terms. The miracle is
in good keeping with many related in
the Roman Breviary, and is a fulfillment
of the prophecy of Paul tne Apostle
concerning “lying wonders,” 2 Thess.
ii. 9.
“ There was a chapel in the neigh-
borhood of Musselburgh, dedicated to
the Lady of Loretto, which, from the
character of superior sanctity it . ad ac-
quired, had long been the favorite resort
of religious devotees. In this chapel a
body of the Catholic priests undertook
to put their religion to test by perform-
ing a miracle. They fixed upon a
young man who was well known as a
common beggar iii the streets of Edin-
burgh, and engaged to restore to him, in
the presence of the assembled people,
the perfect use of his eyesight. A day
was named on which they calculated
they might depend on this wonderful
interposition of divine power in their
behalf. From motives of curiosity, a
great crowd was attracted at the ap-
pointed time to the chapel. The blind
man made his appearance on the scaf-
fold erected for the occasion. The
priests approached the altar, and after
praying very devoutly, and performing
other religious ceremonies, he who had
previously been stone blind, opened his
eyes and declared he saw all things
plainly. Having humbly and grateful-
ly thanked his benefactors. the priests,
he was permitted to mingle among the
astonished people and receive their cha-
rity. Unfortunately, however, for the
success of this deception, a gentleman
from Fife, of the name of Colville, de-
termined to penetrate, if possible, a lit-
tle further into the mystery. He pre-
vailed upon the subject of the recent
38
593
306
TRANSUBSTANTIATION.
experiment to accompany him to his
lodgings in Edinburgh. As soon as they
were alone, he locked the chamber door,
and either by bribes or threats contrived
tc win from him the whole secret. It
turned out that in his boyhood this tool
in the hands of the designing had been
employed as a herd by the nuns of the
convent of Sciennes, then in the neigh-
borhood of Edinburgh. It was remark-
ed by the sisterhood that he had an ex-
traordinary facility in ‘ flipping up the lid
of his eyes, and casting up the white.’
Some of the neighboring priests, hear-
ing accidentally of this talent, imagined
that it might be applied to good account.
They accordingly took him from Sci-
ennes to the monastery near Mussel-
burgh, where they kept him till he had
made himself an adept in this mode of
counterfeiting blindness, and till his per-
sonal appearance was so much changed
that the few who had been acquainted
with him before, would not be able to
recognize him. They then sent him to
Edinbur h to beg publicly, and make
himself tamilitrly known to the inhabit-
ants as a common blind mendicant. So
far every thing had gone smoothly, and
the scene at the chapel of Loretto might
have had effect on the minds of the vul-
gar, had Colville’s activity not discover-
ed the gross imposture. Colville, who
belonged to the congregation, instantly
took the most effectual means to make
known the deceit. He insisted upon the
blind man’s appearing with him next
day at the cross of Edinburgh, where
the latter repeated all he had told Col-
ville, and confessed the iniquity of his
own conduct, as well as that of the
priests. To shelter him from their re-
venge, Colville immediately afterward
carried him off to Fife, and the story
with all its details being speedily dis-
seminated, exposed the Catholic clergy
to more contempt than ever.”
306. Transubstantiation.
(a) GETTING A WORLD OF
MERIT.-—An anecdote was related by
.he celebrated Mr. Maclaurin, professor
of mathematics in the university of Edin-
burgh, which most impressively illus-
trates the implicit confidence of the R0-

——-Q-_
man Catholics in the dogmas of their
creed, however opposed to reason they
may appear.
When Mr. Maclaurin was traveling
in France, he accidentally fell into the
company of a learned Jesuit, with whom
he traveled several leagues. After some
mathematical conversation, the Jesuit
discovered and lamented his heretical
principles, and kindly offered his assist-
ance to bring him into the Roman Catho-
lic faith. Mr. Maclaurin embraced his
offer, and the conversation turned upon
transubstantiation. After a lengthened
discussion of some hours, the Jesuit em-
braced him, and said, “My dear Mr.
Maclaurin, you are the best, the truest
friend I ever met with. How happy am
I in this blessed opportunity of your
conversation! I shall never forget the
obligation under which I am laid to you,
above all men living I” Mr. Maclaurin
was surprised, and began to hope that he
had convinced the Jesuit of his errors,
and requested him to tell him in what
the obligation consisted. “ Why, real-
ly,” replied the Roman Catholic, “ you
have made this doctrine of transubstan-
tiation so very absurd and ridiculous,
that for the future I shall have a world
of merit in believing it.”
(b) GOD EATEN BY MICE.—A
man who lives fifty miles below Quebec,
(says the Canadian Missionary Record,)
mentioned that he had a Testament, and
that a neighbor had one too, about whom
he related the following circumstance:
A protracted meeting having been
held here, several priests came to see
this man, who, hearing of their coming,
took a house fly, and put it on a plate on
the table, with a thread tied to it. ‘When
the priests entered, the man received
them very politely, thanking them for
their attention to his soul’s interest.
They had a long conversation, in the
course of which, he referred to his want
of faith in the power of the priest; but
pointing to the fly, he said, “I have
been told that you can work miracles;
now, if you will cause that fly to dnp
down dead, While I am looking at it, I
will then go to confess.” The priests
refused, saying that they would not
work a miracle for the sake of one per
son. “ But my soul is very precious,’
594
URGATORY.
306, 301

said the man, “ and if you love me as
you say, you shofild do all in your pow-
er to bring me back to the church.”
During the conversation, speaking of the
Host, he asked the priest to take some
of the consecrated wafer, and put it in
a cupboard with a number of mice, and
if at the end of two weeks, it remained
uneaten, then he would believe that it
was God; otherwise he would remain
as he was, for he could not think that
God would allow himself to be eaten by
mice.
(0) BELIEVING IN AN IMPOSSI-
BILITY,——“ Do you believe in transub-
stantiation ’?” said a Protestant to a Pa-
ist. “Yes, Ido,” was the reply.—
“ Why,” said the other, “the thing is
impossible.” “ And I,” said the Papist,
“ believe it because it is impossible !”
(cl) PRIESTS SUPERIOR TO AN-
GELS.——In the reign of the “bloody
Mary,” the popish bishop of London
publicly preached the doctrine, that
priests were superior to angels. “ The
dignity of priests,” said that impious
prelate, “by some means passeth the
dignity of angels, because there is no
power given to any of the angels to
make the body of Christ, which the
least priest may do on earth, and the
highest angel in heaven cannot do:
wherefore, priests are to be honored be-
fore all kings of the earth, princes, and
nobles. For a priest is higher than a
king, happier than an angel, and maker
of his Creator”
(e) LADY JANE GREY’S SAR-
CASM.-—-It is related of lady Jane
Grev, that being, when very young, at
Newhall, in Essex, the seat of Mary,
afterwards queen, and walking near the
chapel with lady Anne I/Vharton. she
obsrarved her companion, as they passed,
new to the elements on the altar. Af-
fecnng surprise at the motion of her
friend, she asked, “Is the lady Mary in
the chapel '2” “ No,” replied her com-
panion, “I bend to Him who made us
all.” “ How is that '2” retorted Jane,
“ can he be there who made us all, and
yet the baker made him ?” It is assert-
ed that this sarcastic remark laid the
foundation of M try’s hatred to this love-
Y woman.

307. Purgatory.
(a) HABEAS ANIMAM FOR PUR-
GATORY.——The Rev. Blanco VVhite
relates, that, in Spain, besides masses,
bulls, prayers, and penances, the pope
has established eight or ten days in the
year, on which every Spaniard, (for
the grant is confined to Spain,) by kneel-
ing at five different altars, and there
praying for the extirpation of heresy, is
entitled to send a species of habeas ani-
mam writ to any of his friends in pur-
gatory ; that is, to require their deliver-
ance as a reward for what he has done.
(Z2) “ I’LL TAKE BACK MY
MON EY.——An Italian noble bemg at
church one day, and finding a priest
who begged for the souls in purgatory,
gave him a piece of gold. “ Ah I my
lord,” said the good father, “ you have
now delivered a soul.” The count
threw upon the plate another piece.
“ Here is another soul delivered,” said
the priest. “ Are you positive of it ?”
replied the count. “ Yes, my lord,”
replied the priest, “I am certain they
are now in heaven.” “ Then,” said
the count, “ I’ll take back my money,
for it signifies nothing to you now; see-
ing the souls are already got to heaven,
there can be no danger of their return-
ing to purgatory.”
(c) HEAVY DEMAND ON PA-
TIENCE.—-Mr. Temple, a Missionary
of Malta, relates of a native of that isl-
and, that, “ not long after he came into
our family he was visited by a disease
which reduced him so low, that his
physician, a Roman Catholic, told him
it was proper to confess himself, receive
the host, and thus prepare himself for
death. He was at that time sick in his
own family, for he has a wife and chil-
dren. According to the advice of the
doctor, he sent for a priest, and con-
fessed himself, a thing which he had
not done for a long time before.
“ A few evenings ago when he came ta
prayers, I asked him what the priest
said to him. As he now detests the
whole system, he seemed quite willing to
tell me all about it. He said he con-
fessed to the priest as many of his sins
as he could recollect, and then asked
595
807
PAPACY.
his confessor what he must do as he
felt that he must soon die.
“ The priest told him that, should he
be spared, he must, as soon as his
health would permit, kiss the ground
fifteen times a day, for eight days to-
gether, must hear one mass a day dur-
ing the same period, and recite a cer-
tain part of the Rosary a great many
times for eight days; this was the pen-
ance enjoined by the confessor. ‘ But,’
said the poor man, ‘ what shall I do if I
die and cannot perform this penance?’
‘ Oh,’ replied the confessor, ‘ have pa-
tience and go to purgatory.’
“I have never detected this man in a
falsehood, and I have no doubt he told
me the truth concernin this affair.”
(d) DISTRICTS IN PURGATO-
RY.-—A woman and two children, says
Dr. Brownlee, called on a lady in
Broadway, N ew-York, to ask alms.
The woman was dressed in black, and
said that she was left a widow, with the
Cl1ll£l1E§1'l she had accompanying her, in
distressed circumstances, and she urged
her request for alms with considerable
earnestness. The lady informed her
that she could give her no money, but
offered her food and articles of clothing
if she might need them. But these
would not do; the widow wanted me-
ney, and she insisted so earnestly on the
gift of money, that the lady asked her
into the house, and entered into conver-
sation with her, when she drew from
the widow the following story :
“My husband,” said she, “died a
few weeks ago, and since that I’ve had
no peace. Priest called on me
soon after, and reproved me for not
paying over to him the sum of money
necessary for his release from that place
of torment. I asked him how much
that would be. ‘ Oh,’ said he, ‘ we
have had different prices for different
souls. For saying mass for some we
have one hundred dollars, for others
fifty, and for others less. The least
sum I can accept for praying the soul
of your departed husband out of that
place of torment is twenty-four dollars.’
And now he gives me no peace because
you know Ihave not the money, and
what can I do for the soul of my poor
husband '2”

The lady took a Bible, and handing
it to the afflicted widow, said to her,
“Here, take this Bible, and go to the
priest you speak of, and request him to
fold down a leaf on that place which
teaches the doctrine of purgatory, and
then you bring the Bible l)8.CK to me,
and I will give you the whole amount
you want to pay for the praying your
husband out of that place of torment.”
The poor Romanist was delighted
with this proposal. She took the Bible
and made ofi' in great haste to the priest ;
but she was not gone a great While;
she soon returned more sorrowful than
before. She told the lady, in great
distress, that she carried the Bible to
the priest, and informed him how he
could put her in the way of obtaining
the whole amount necessary to procure
the release of her husband’s soul from
the torments of purgatory. But, alas!
instead of turning down a leaf in her
Bible upon the place where it teaches
the doctrine of purgatory, he flew into
a violent rage, and ordered her from his
presence, saying, “ See that the twenty-
four dollars are forthcoming, or I’ll put
you under penance for having in your
presence that heretical book, and your
husband shall never be released from
purgatory till the money is paid down ;
and, mind you I no other priest but my-
self can pray him out, for he is in my
district !”
(e) IN SCRIPTION AT MEN TZ.
—-In the year 17 38, Mr. John Wesley
traveled in Germany, and spent a night
or two at Mentz. While there, he went
into the great church, and spent an
hour, and copied the following from a.
paper on the door.
“ Afult release for the poor souls in
purgatory.
“His Papal Holiness, Clement XII
hath this year, 1738, on the 7th of Au-
gust, most graciously privileged the
Cathedral Church of St. Christopher, in
Mentz, so that every priest, as well see-
ular as regular, who will read mass at
an altar for the soul of a Christian de-
parted on any holiday, or any day with-
in the octave thereof, or on two extraor-
dinary days, to be appointed by the or-
dinary, of any week in the year, may
596
RELICS.
aov,sos
each time deliver a soul out of the fire
of purgatory.”
THE ARMENIAN’S REA-
SON IN G.—Rev. Mr. Dwight of Con-
stantinople says, “ The subject of pur-
gatory was introduced in a company of
eight or ten Armenians, by one of their
number who had frequent intercourse
with papists. He remarked he had one
difliculty in regard to it which none of
them could solve. “According to the
papal notions,” said he, “ all who die in
the church have certain venial sins up-
on them, for which they must suffer in
purgatory, according to the number and
nature of those sins; some for a year,
some for a hundred years, and some for
ten thousand, &c. And this shall be
the ease up to the very time when the
judgment day shall come. At that day
what will he done with ‘those who have
not served out their time in purgatory '2
For example, what will be done with
those who died the week or day pre-
vious to the judgment '2 Some of them
may require the action of the purga-
torial fires for a week, and some for a
year, and some for a hundred years,
and some for a thousand, or ten thou-
sand, before they can atone for their
sins and be sufficiently purified for
heaven. Let the believers in urgato-
ry decide what is to be done with these
cases at the judgment, when all that
are in their graves shall rise, and the
righteous are to be forever separated
from the wicked ; the latter to go away
into everlasting punishment, and the
former into life eternal.”
I
808. Relies.
(a) RELICS AT HALLE.--Halle,
in Saxony, so remarkable for the hospi-
tal erected by the celebrated Francke,
seems to have been, in the dark ages of
Popery, like Athens of old, a “ city full
of idols,” Acts xvii. 16, (marginal
reading.) The churches contained for-
ty-two entire bodies of Romish saints,
and more than 8,000 smaller relics ! A
work, published by the authority of the
archbishop, contains engravings of more
than 200 vases in which these relics
were kept. Some of them are particu-
larly specified, as earth from a field at

Damascus, where Adam was formed
from the dust of the ground ! Several
bones and part of the standard of St.
George; pieces of N oah’s ark; por-
tions of the bodies of several patriarchs
and prophets; the rods of Moses and
Aaron ; clothing which had belonged to
the Virgin ; and a piece of the skin of
Bartholomew! Among the entire bod-
ies was one of the infants slain by Her-
od; also seventeen bodies of the com-
panions of St. Ursula, who were, by
mistake, said to have been 11,.‘00 in
number, instead of one named Undeci-
milla; also the glass or mirror used by
these virgin martyrs, with much more
of the like trumpery. On the Sunday
next after the eighth of September, in
every year, these relics were carried
in solemn procession, and exhibited to
the people. To all such as beheld them
with devotion upon this occasion, ofl‘er-
ing prayers, and giving money to the
collegiate church, indulgences, or par-
don of sins, were promised, for 29,245,-
120 years, and 220 days. WVe are not
told by what process of calculation this
extraordinary number was ascertained ;
but the authorized writer might well
boast that a great treasure was to be
obtained at a small price, had not the
treasure, even if obtained, been utterly
worthless. There was, however, a
qualifying clause ; the indulgences
were only to be obtained by those who
were “suited to deserve them ;” an ex-
pression which, as Seckendorf observes,
would be as unintelligible to the people,
as the millions and hundreds of thou-
sands spoken of in the calculation. Into
what fearful delusions do mankind fall,
when they forsake the simple truths of
the Bible !
(Z2) SINGULAR RELICS.—\Ve
are sometimes told of the harmless char
acter of Popery, and are assured that
the Roman Catholic system is, in reali-
ty, little different from that of Protest-
antism. Let our readers, however, be
assured of the following facts:
When the monasteries weze sup-
pressed at the time of the reformation,
there were found in one of them as ma.
ny relics as could be named in several
sheets of paper. Among others, there
was an angel with one wing, that
5‘7
308, 309
PAPACY.
i—_
brought over the spear’s head which
pierced the Redeemer’s side. There
were also some of the coals that roasted
St. Lawrence, the parings of St. Ed-
mund’s toes, St. Thomas 5. Becket’ s pen-
knife and boots, with as many pieces of
the Savior’s cross-as would make a
large whole one, apiece of St. Andrew’s
finger, set in an ounce of silver, with
many others of equal veracity. Some
of the images were broken; among
which was one, that, by means of
springs, was made to move the head,
hands, and feet: this had proved very
profitable. Some of the blood of a duck
was found in a phial, which was thick
on one side, and thin on the other: the
people were taught to believe this was
the blood of Christ ; and on their pay-
ing a considerable sum, the thin side of
the phial was turned towards them, and
hey were permitted to see the blood.
(0) RELICS AT AIX LA CHA-
PELLE.—Dr. Raffles, in his tour
through Europe in 1817, visited the
church of the Minorites, in Aix La
Chapelle. After describing sundry an-
tiquities, among which were “the re-
mains of one of the children whom Her-
od killed in the hope of destroying
Christ,” he proceeds :
“All this was interesting, but the
cream of the antiquities yet remained.
We were conducted to the Vestry, or
robing place of the priest, where a
young man whose province it is to ex-
pose these wonders to the gaze of the
credulous, threw open the curiously
painted doors,of an immense recess,
where in an instant we were dazzled
with a profusion of gold and precious
stones, wrought into various forms, to
contain or emblazon the precious and
sacred relics.
* * * * We were shown, 1.
The girdle of Jesus Christ, brought
from Jerusalem, by Charlemagne, and
with that monarch’s seal annexed to it.
2. Girdle of the Virgin Mary, derived
from tne same quarter. 3. A bone of
the Virgin Mary's father. 4. A bit of
the cord with which Jesus was bound
when he was scourged. 5. A prickle
from the crown of thorns. 6. A bit of
the sponge with which they supplied
the vinegar. 7- A bit of one of the

nails by which he was fastened to the
cross. 8. And lastly, some sweet
which fell from him in the garden of
Gethsemane. To this may be added a
link of the chain with which Peter was
chained at Rome! a bit of the bone of
Simeon’s arm, with which he embraced
the infant Jesus !! a rib of St. Ste-
phen !! ! and a tooth of St. Thom-
as ! ! ! !”
I thought of the sailor, who, after his
messmates had told some wonderful sto-
ries of what had been found in the bel-
lies of whales and sharks, and such
monsters, determining to outstrip them
all, said he had once been present at
the catching of a fish, out of whose bel-
ly, when opened, there came a ship,
with all its masts and rigging, and the
whole of the crew.
(d) A PHIAL OF DARKNESS.
-——A traveler on the continent visiting a
celebrated cathedral, was shown by the
Sacristan among other marvels, a dirty
opaque phial. After eyeing it some
time, the traveler said, “ Do you call
this a relic '2” “ Sir,” said the Sacris-
tan indignantly, “it contains some of
the darkness that was spread over the
land of Egypt.”
309. Moral Tendency of Papacy.
(a) CONSOLING TO PIRATES.
—-Several Spanish pirates were once
taken and brought into Boston, tried
and sentenced to death. They Were, it
seems, Catholics; and on the day of
their execution they were attended by
a Spanish priest. As they arrived at
the foot of the gallows, the priest turned
to the captain, and with much gravity
exclaimed:
“ Srnnmnns, ASCEND TO HEAVEN.”
(Z2) NUNNERY AT BARDS-
TOW N .——-The following appeared in
183-, in various religious journals of
this country. No place in Kentucky
is more famous among papists, and no
place more detestable in ,:>.1rt to Protes-
tants than Bardstown in Kentucky.
It is the hotbed of all popish abomina-
tions.
Not long since, a young lady of Ken.
tucky, whose parents reside in the
vicinity of Bardstown, was induced ta
598
MORAL TENDENCY OF PAPACY.
enter upon the noviciate for a conven-
tual life: and finally she became a nun.
The “Lady Superior ” immediately be-
gan to explam the secrets of the priest-
craft—and among other delectable
things inculcated for the young lady’s
belief, the vast superiority of a nun’s
enjoyments over those of common wo-
men, for that they were often visited by
angels in white robes, with whom they
had holy intercourse; and persuaded
the thoughtless and credulous girl to
believe it. When the nun was fully
prepared, the Abbess informed her vic-
tim, that she had a revelation from hea-
ven, and that the nun mi ht speedily
expect a visit from one o the angels,
cautioned her not to be alarmed, and
above all to submit herself to the
“White robed Angel’s” commands.
Almost immediately after, at night,
while in her bed, she saw by the moon-
light, a figure dressed in white enter
her dormitory. She instantly sat up,
and began to cross herself, and to mut-
ter her Ave Marys. The “ VVhite
robed Angel,” proceeded towards her,
and the nun instantly perceived that
instead of a white robed visitant from
heaven her associate was real flesh and
blood,—even a priest from the neighbor-
ing Jesuit seminary. By some means,
she suddenly extricated herself from
his grasp ; and before he could execute
his nefarious design, she escaped from
the nunnery, whether by the window or
by the door I do not remember; and
with the fleetness of a deer, in her night
dress, she fled to her father’s house;
and for ever abandoned all intercourse
with those who, to use her own expres-
sion, represent themselves as “\”Vhite
robed Angels from heaven.”
(0) THE HARLOT’S HOME.-
A Roman Catholic young woman, says
a Montreal paper, received serious re-
ligious impressions, and determined,
after a diligent examination of the
Scriptures, to renounce the Romish
Church.
The riest of her parents deprived
them ofP the partial Sacrament of the
Lord’s Supper, and declared that he
would continue to do so, until they had
0revai_ed upon their daughter to return
to their church-—he also expressed a

309
desire to receive a call from the young
woman. She called accordingly upon
him, and informed him that her parents
were not concerned in her change of
views, but had done all in their power
to bring her back tq,Popery.
In the conversation which followed,
the priest exerted himself to persuade
her that she was in error, but in vain.
At length, he inquired if she was will-
ing to enter into the church, and before
the altar, ask God to bless her in her
present course. She replied that she
was, and they proceeded together to
the church, where she poured out her
heart in unafllected and earnest prayer
that God would smile upon her endea-
vors to know and do his will, and that
he would bring her parents to see the
errors into which they had fallen.
The priest, amazed at her resolution
and steadfastness, seemed to experience
a sudden change, and told her to go
forward—if she thought she was right,
to continue as she had begun. This
she has done, and is now on the point
of connecting herself with a Protestant
church, as a believer in Christ.
In the early stages of her seriousness,
a young man, a Romanist, was author-
ized by her parents, to decoy her back
into the bosom of Popery, by the offer
of marriage, but the attempt was unsuc-
cessful. Afterwards, when she became
more confirmed in her views, this young
man came to her employer, with a
burdened conscience, which he hoped
to relieve in a measure by confession,
and declared that he had been authorized
by her parents—-a priest consenting—-
to offer his hand to the young woman,
and if he could not succeed in making
her a Roman Catholic by any other
means, to seduce her.
We could not believe this except on
the most credible testimony. As it is,
we cannot doubt. A harlot, we might
infer, is more at home in the Roman
Catholic than in the Protestant Church,
in the view of Romanists themselves;
but it is most distressing to find that
such criminal and detestable acts are
employed, and that the interests of im-
mortal souls are sacrificed that the
ranks of Popery may be kept unbroken.
VVho is not aroused from his sleep?
599
309,310
PAPACY.
What Protestant can stand by in-
active, and witness the perpetration of
such enormities in the sacred name
of religion? We have another fact
of much the same description, but we
reserve it for a future occasion.
((1) WHERE NUNS PUT THEIR
CHILDREN .——A captain of a vessel,
says the Philadelphian for 184—, stated
some time since, that when in port in a
Catholic country, an old nunnery was
torn down, for the purpose of rebuilding,
and although every exertion was made
by the holy father to suppress the
<. uriosity of the people, a number flocked
round the ruins, and some few examin-
ed them, when it was discovered that a
large vault was under the building,
wherein was a large number of INFANTS’
BONES. When this discovery was made
known, the populace insisted that they
should be brought out ; the bones were
then laid out on a plain near the ruins,
and examined by several physicians,
who at once pronounced them to be
human bones. Our informant, whose
name we possess, states that he was
among the number who witnessed the
dreadful sight.
(6) A NUNNERY ABANDONED.
-—-“ In the rear of Alleghany town,”
says the Richmond Telegraph for 184-,
“and in full view of Pittsburg, is a Ca-
tholic Nunnery, one of those schools of
superstition, tyranny, and pollution,
which are rising up, as by enchantment,
in every part of the West. An event
has recently occurred which has in-
duced the whole sisterhood, with the
priest, to abandon the buildings. A
gentleman, residing at the East, had a
daughter in the nunnery to be educatec ,
with the expectation that she was to
Visit him occasionally. Much time
elapsed, no visit was made, and not
being able to get any satisfactory infor-
mation respecting his daughter, he came
to the nunnery to see her. The lady
superior told him she was not at home ;
he insisted on knowing where she was,
and was finally told that she was sick
in bed, and could not be seen ; he de-
manded a sight of her in a spirit which
the lady superior thought it imprudent
.e attempt to resist; and being shown
t- 221' room, behold, there was his once

healthy aid promising daughter, with ar
infant. His mdignation was so aroused,
that he uttered some threats in regard
to the safety of the establishment; and
the next morning not an individual was
found there.”
SINGULAR METHOD OF
P R O S E L Y TIN G.—-The following
anecdote is current in Germany, and
illustrates the disguises often assumed
by Jesuits to forward Popery. When
the Duke and Duchess of Anhalt Cothen
embraced the Romish faith, the court
followed their example, with the excep-
tion of one maid of honor, who adhered
to her Protestant principles. Shortly
after, a young gentleman arrived from
Vienna, who won the affections of the
lady, but informed her, that being a
Roman Catholic, he could not ally him-
self to a heretic. She consented, after
a struggle, to forsake Protestantism, but
fainted when her recantation was made.
The lover then informed her, that he
had paid his addresses to her for the
good of her soul, marriage being out of
the question, as he was a priest and a
Jesuit—a fact of which she was con-
vinced, when taking off a wig which he
wore, he showed her the tonsure or
shaven crown, which is a distinguishing
mark of popish priests.
810. Miscellaneous.
(a) DYING WORDS OF POPE
PIUS V.—It is said of Pius Quintus,
that when dying he cried out in despair:
“ When Iwas in low condition, I had
some hopes of salvation; but when I
was advanced to be a cardinal, I greatly
doubted it; but since I came to the
popedom, I have no hope at all.”
(b) PAPAL INSPIRATION.——A
Roman Catholic curé, in France, once
ventured to ask a Protestant, “ Upon
what do you build your belief, since
you have no authority for your faith '?”
The reply was, “Upon tne Bible; if
the apostles had left behind them any
infallible successors, it would have been
unnecessary to bequeath to us so many
instructions in writing.”
“The apostles! and why are you to
place greater reliance on the apostles
than on their Sh ccessors '2”
600
MISCELLANEOUS.
310
'___'
“ Because the apostles were inspired
by the Holy Ghost.”
“ Well ! and we too are inspired.”
“ Are you inspired '2”
“Yes! I repeat——We too are in-
spired !”
“Then why do you require to be
further instructed in the college of the
Jesuits '2”
The priest was confounded.
(c) SURPRISE AT THE TRUE
VERSION.——-The Revl Mr. Temple,
one of the American missionaries at
Malta, has related the following fact :—-
My teacher, a native of Italy, came
into my room one morning, and took up
a tract, then lying on my table, and
immediately cast his eyes upon the ten
commandments, which I had inserted
at the end. As soon as he had read
the second commandment, he express-
ed much astonishment, and asked whe-
ther this was part of the decalogue.
I immediately showed him this com-
mandment in Archbishop Martini’s
“ Italian Translation of the Latin Vul-
gate.” He could not suppress his feel-
ing of surprise on reading this in the
Italian Bible, and in a version, too,
authorized by the Pope. “ I have lived,”
said he, “fifty years; have been pub-
licly educated in Italy; have had the
command of a regiment of men, and
fought in many campaigns; but, till
this hour, I never knew that such a
commandment as this was written in
the pages of the Bible.”
(cl) THE POPE ANGRY.—Pope
Julius, sitting at dinner one day, and
pointing to a peacock which he had not
touched, “Keep,” said he, “this cold
peacock for me against supper, and let
me sup in the garden; for I shall have
guests.” VV hen supper came, the pea-
cock was not brought to the table, on
which the Pope, after his wonted man-
ner, fell into an extreme rage. One
of his cardinals, sitting by, desired him
not to be so moved with a matter of such
small weight. “ VVhat I” said the Pope,
“if God was so angry for an apple,
that he cast our first parents out of
Paradise for the same, why may not I,
being his Vicar, be angry for a peacock,
since a peacock is a greater matter than
an apple 2”

(e) ST. JANARIUS AND THE
HORSES.-—VVe were present to-day,
say the author of “Rome in the Nine-
teenth Century,” written in 1818, at
one of the most ridiculous scenes I ever
witnessed, even in this country. It was
St. Anthony’s blessing of the horses;
which began on that saint’s day, and, I
understand, lasts for a week. We
drove to the church of the saint, near
Santa Maria Maggiore, and could
scarcely make our way through the
streets, from the multitude of horses,
mules, asses, cows sheep, goats, and
dogs, which were jou. neying along to the
place of benediction ; their tails, heads,
and necks, decorated with bits of colored
ribbon and other finery, on this—their
unconscious gala day. The saint’s
benediction, though nominally confined
to horses, is equally efficacious, and
equally bestowed upon all quadrupeds;
and I believe there is scarcely a brute
in Rome, or in the neighborhood, that
has not participated in it. An immense
crowd were assembled in the wide open
space in front of the church: and from
the number of beasts and men, it looked
exactly like a cattle fair. At the door
stood the blessing priest, dressed in his
robes, and wielding a brush in his hand,
which he continually dipped into a
huge bucket of holy water that stood
near him, and spirted at the animals as
they came up, in unremitting succes-
sion, taking off his little skull-cap, and
muttering every time in Latin, “ By the
intercessio1_ of blessed Anthony the.
abbot, these animals are freed from
evil, in the name of the Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit, Amen.” The poor
priest had such hard work in blessing,
that he was quite exhausted and panting,
and his round face looked fiery red with
his“ exertions. The rider, or driver of
the creature, always gave some piece
of money, larger or smaller, in propor-
tion to his means or generosity ; and re-
ceived an engraving of the saint, and a
little metallic cross: however, all ani-
mals might be blessed gratis. Several
well-dressed people, in very handsome
equipages, attended with out-riders, in
splendid liveries, drove up while we
were there; and sat uncovered till the
benediction was given. Then, having
601
311
PATIENCE.
-- _ _

paid what they thought fit, they drove
off, and made way for others. One ad-
venture happened, which afforded some
amusement. A countryman having got
a blessing on his beast, and therefore
mtting his whole trust in its power, set
off fr Jfl] the church-door at full gallop ;
and had scarcely gone a hundred yards,
before the ungainly animal tumbled
down with him, and he rolled over his

head into the dirt. He soon get up,
however, and shook himself, and so did
the horse, without either seeming to be
much the worse. The priest seemed
not a whit out of countenance at this
catastrophe; and some of the standers-
by exclaimed, with entire steadfastness
of faith, that, “ but for the blessing, thev
might both have broken their necks!’
311 PATIENCE.
(a) TORTURED NOBLEMAN.-—
When the Mexican emperor, Gatimozin,
was put upon the rack by the soldiers
of Cortes, one of his nobles, who lay in
tortures at the same time, complained
bitterly to his sovereign of the pains he
endured. “ Do you think,” said Gati-
mozin, “that I lie upon roses 2” The
nobleman ceased meaning, and expired
in silence. “ When a Christian,” adds
the pious Bishop Horne, “ thinks his suf-
ferings for sin, in sickness, or pain, 650.,
nitolerable, let him remember those of
his Lord, endured patiently on that bed
of sorrow, the cross, and he will think
so no longer.”
(12) TRIBULATION WORKETH
PATIENCE.—-There was a little boy
who was so crippled that he could not
open his Bible, which he had always
before him. A gentleman asked him
why he was so fond of reading it. “ I
like to read the Bible,” said he, “be-
cause it tells me of Jesus Christ.” “ Do
you think you have believed on Jesus
Christ 13” “Yes, I do.” “ What makes
you think so ?” “ Because he enables
me to suffer my afflictions patiently.”
(c) PATIENT MINISTER.——Mr.
Rivet, a learned and pious divine, was
an instance of extraordinary patience
under excruciating pains, which he bore
for many days. “ You see,” says he,
“through the grace of 'God, I am not
tired: I wait, I believe, I persevere.
Patience is much better than knowledge.
I am no more vexed with earthly cares:
I have new no desire but after heavenly
things. I have learnt more divinity in
these ten days, than in fifty years be-
bre. This body is feeble, but the spirit

is strong and enriched. Far be it from
me that I should murmur. How small
are these pains in comparison of that
grace, througn which I bear, with a
quiet mind, whatsoever it pleaseth God
to lay upon me! The body, indeed,
suffers, but the soul is comforted and
filled abundantly.”
(cl) PATIENCE OF SARAH PAR-
BECK.—-One of the most remarkable
instances of patience on record is to be
found in the case of Miss Sarah Par-
beck, of Salem, Mass. A lady visiting
her in 1845, thus describes her inter-
view:
“ The door was opened by a very old
lady, wrinkled and bowed down with
age, who invited us to enter. The room
was so dark, that before my eyes were
accommodated to the change, I could
only see a figure dressed in white, sit-
ting upon the bed and rocking to and
fro. This motion was attended by a
sound like the chck of wooden machine-
ry, which arose, as I afterwards dis-
covered, from the bones as they worked
in their loosened sockets. As we ap-
proached, she extended her hand to my
companion, and said in a painful but af-
fectionate voice, ‘Eliza, I am very glad
to see thee ;’ and then asked my name
and place of residence. She had just
given me her hand, when a spasm seized
her, and it was twitched suddenly from
my grasp. It flew some four or five
times with the greatest violence against
her face, and then, with a sound which
I can only compare to that made by a
child who has been sobbing a long time,
in catching its breath, she threw up both
her arms, and with a deep guttural
602
PATIENCE.
.JA
groan was flung back upon her pillow,
with a force inconceivable to one who
has not witnessed it. The instant she
touched the bed, she uttered that pierc-
ing shriek again, and sprung back to
her former position, rocking to and fro,
with those quick, heart-rending groans
which I had heard while standing at the
door. It was several minutes before
she could speak, and then there was
none to answer her. Both my compan-
ion and myself ‘were choked with tears.
Her poor mother went to the other side
of the bed, and smoothed the coverlid,
and rearranged the pillows, looking sad-
y upon her poor child, writhing in tor-
.ure which she could not alleviate. I
became faint, and trembled with a sud-
den weakness ; a cold perspiration stood
upon my face. The objects in the room
began to swim about me, and I was
obliged to take hold of the bedside for
support. I have been in our largest
hospitals, and have spent hours in going
from room to room with the attendmg
physician. I have witnessed there al-
most every form of human suffering, but I
had never beheld any thing to be compar-
ed to that now before me. She afterwards
told me, as if in apology for her screams,
that when she was hurled back upon
her pillow both shoulders were dislocat-
ed, and as they sprung back into their
sockets, the pain was far beyond en-
durance, and extorted from her these
shrieks.
“ Her sentences were broken, uttered
with much difficulty, and frequently in-
terrupted by the terrible spasm I have
described above. Yet this was her
‘quiet’ state; this the time when she
suffered least. Day after day, night
after night, fourteen weary years have
dragged themselves along, whilst her
poor body has been thus racked. No
relief; no hope of relief, except that
which death shall give. When I asked
her if her aflliction did not at times seem
greater than she could bear, ‘ O I never,’
she replied. ‘I cannot thank God enough
for having laid his heavy hand upon me.
I was a thoughtless sinner, and had he
not in his mercy afflicted me, I should
robably have lost my immortal soul.
fsee only his kindness and love. The
sweet communion I have with my Sav-

311
ior more than compensates me for all I
suffer. I am permitted to feel, in a
measure, in my poor body, what he suf-
fered to save me, and my soul can never
grow weary in his praise.’ This last
sentence, I must say, gave me an argu-
ment which put doubts of the verity and
power of religion to flight more effectu-
ally than all the evidences which the
wisdom of man has arrayed against the
skeptic; and I could 10’t but exclaim,
‘ If this be delusion, let me be deluded!’
“ She spoke in the most tender terms
of her Savior’s love. Her conversation
was in heaven, from whence also she
looked for her Savior, knowing that he .
should change her body of humiliation,
and fashion it like unto his glorious
body. I shall never forget the tones
and language in which she entreated my
sobbing companion to give that Savior
her heart. As she recovered from a
spasm, I said to her, ‘ Do you not often
desire to depart, and be with the Savior
you love so fervently?’ She had hard-
ly recovered her exhausted breath, but
replied with great decision, ‘ By the
grace of God I have never had that wish.
Though death will be a welcome gift
when my Father sees fit to bestow it
upon me, yet, thanks to his supporting
grace, I can wait his time without im-
patience. He sees that there is much
dress to refine away, and why should I
Wish against his will ?’
“I remained by her side for more
than an hour; such, however, were the
attractions of her discourse, that I was
unconscious of the time. I know not
when I have been so drawn towards a
fellow Christian, and never had I been
led to such delightful contemplations of
our Savior’s character ; his faithfulness
and love. I remarked to her, as I turn-
ed to go away, ‘ God has made you a
powerful preacher, here upon your bed
of pain.’ ‘ O,’ she replied, ‘if he will
make me the instrument of saving but
a single soul, I am willing to live and
suffer here until my hair is gray with
age.’ I nonced some bottles standing
upon a small.table, and asked her if she
found any rehef from opiates. ‘Through
God’s kindness,’ she answered, ‘ I pro-
bably owe the preservation of my life
thus far to an extract made from black-
603
311
PATIENCE.
7
drop.’ ‘Does it enable you to sleep ?’
‘ O no,’ she replied, ‘I have not known
sleep for a very long time.’ ‘ I/Vhat I’
I cried, ‘ do you never rest '2’ A severe
spasm here seized her, and it was some
time before she could answer me; she
had been attacked in this way some
twelve or fifteen times whilst conversing
with us, and freq iently in the midst of
a reply. When she recovered, she said
the physicians thought she obtained rest
in her ‘long spasm,’ which lasted for
more than'an hour. ‘ During that time,’
she continued. ‘ I am dead to every thing
but a sense of the most extreme anguish.
I see and hear nothing; I only feel as
though Iwas being crushed in pieces
by some immense weight.’ This was
her rest! The rack! Yet, through all
this suffering, the smiles of God pene-
trate to her heart. She sees him just,
and acknowledges his love.”
(e) SUFFERING PATIENTLY
FOR CHRlST.—Negrino and Paschali
exercised their ministry in Calabria, in
comforting the persecuted Waldensians
among the woods and mountains. But
when the sufferers were closely hunted,
the preachers were not likely to escape.
At the instance of the inquisitor, they
were both apprehended. N egrino was
starved to death in prison at Casueza.
At this place Paschali was detained in
confinement eight months, whence he
was sent prisoner to Naples, with a view
of being conducted to Rome. The pa-
tience with which he endured the cross,
appears from the sensible and ardent let-
ters which he addressed to the persecut-
ed church of Calabria, to his afflicted
spouse Camilla, and to the church of
Geneva. In one of these he thus de-
scribes his journey from Cosenza to Na-
ples:
“Two of our companions had been
prevailed on to recant; but they were
no better treated on that account, and
we know not what they will sufl'er at
Rome, whither they are to be conveyed,
as well as Marquet and myself. The
Spaniard, our conductor, wished us to
give him money to be relieved from the
chain by which we were bound to one
another ; yet, in addition to this, he put
an me a pair of handcuffs, so strait that

V‘
they entered into the flesh, and dgprived
me of all sleep; and I found that, if at
all, he would not remove them until he
had drawn from me all the money I had,
amounting only to two ducats, which I
‘needed for my support. At night, the
beasts were better treated than we, for
their litter was spread for them, while
we were obliged to lie on the hard
ground, without any covering; and in
this condition we remained for nine
nights. On our arrival at Naples we
were thrust into a cell, noisome in the
highest degree, from the damp, and the
putrid breath of the prisoners.”
He was next sent in bonus to Rome,
at which place his brother arrived from
Coni, with letters of recommendation, to
ask his liberty. With difficulty this
brother obtained an interview with him,
in the presence of a judge of the Inqui-
sition. He gives the following descrip-
tion of this first interview:
“ It was hideous to see him, with his
bare head, and his hands and arms lace-
rated with the small cords with which
he was bound, like one to be led to the
gibbet. On advancing to embrace him,
I sunk to the ground. ‘My brother,’
said he, ‘ if you are a Christian, why do
you distress yourself thus’.Z Do you
know that a leaf cannot fall to theground
without the will of God? Comfort your-
self in Christ Jesus, for the present
troubles are not to be compared with
the glory to come.’ ”
At last, on the 8th of September,
1560, he was led to the conventual
church of Minerva, to hear his process
publicly read; and the next day, the
9th of September, he appeared, with the
greatest fortitude, in the court adjoining
the castle of St. Angelo, where he was
burnt in the presence of the pope and a
party of cardinals.
ERETRIUS AND HIS FA.
THER.—-A youth named Eretrius was
for a considerable time a follower of
Zeno. On his return home, his father
asked him what he had learned’.2 The
boy replied, that would hereafter appear.
On this, the father being enraged, beat
his son ; who hearing it patiently, and
without complaining, said, “ This have
learned—to endure a parent’s anger.”
604

/ PATRIOTISM. 312
312. PATRIOTISM.
(a) THE ROMAN AMBASSA- I Boswell, when he visited Corsica. “ A
DORS.—Ptolemy Philadelphus, king
of Egypt, having sent to desire the
friendship of the Roman people, an em-
bassy was dispatched from Rome the
following year, in return for the civili-
ties cf Ptolemy. The ambassadors were
Q. F abius Garges, Cn. Fabius Pictor,
with Numerius his brother, and Q.
Ogalnius. The disinterested air with
which they appeared sufficiently indi-
cated the greatness of their souls. Pto-
lemy gave them a splendid entertain-
ment, and took that opportunity to pre-
sent to each of them a crown of gold,
which they received because they were
unwilling to disoblige him by declining
the honor he intended them; but they
went the next morning and placed them
on the heads of the king’s statues erect-
ed in the public places of the city. The
king likewise ha'ving tendered them
very considerable presents at their au-
dience of leave, they received them as
they had the crowns; but, on their ar-
rival at Rome. before giving the Senate
an account of their embassy, they de-
posited all those presents in the public
treasury, and made it evident, by so no-
ble a conduct, that in serving the re-
public, they had proposed no other ad-
vantage to themselves than the honor of
having well done their duty. The re-
public, however, would not suflfer itself
to be exceeded in generosity of senti-
ments. The Senate and people came
to a resolution, that the ambassadors, in
consideration of the services they had
rendered the state, should receive a sum
of money equivalent to that they had
deposited in the public treasury. This
indeed was an amiable contest; and one
is at a loss to know to which of the an-
tagonists to ascribe the victory. Vi/here
shall we now find men who devote them-
selves in a similar manner to the public
good, without any interested expecta-
tions of selfish advantage ?
(b) THE CORSICAN AND HIS
UNCLE.—-A striking display of the
character of the legislator, and of the
subject, was related by Paoli to Mr.

criminal,” said he, “ was condemned to
die. His nephew came to me with a
lady of distinction, that she might solicit
his pardon. The nephew’s anxiety
made him think that the lady did not
speak with sufficient force and earnest-
ness. He therefore advanced, and ad-
dressed himself to me, ‘ Sir, is it proper
for me to speak '2’ as if he felt that it
was unlawful to make such an applica-
tion. I bade him go on. ‘Sir,’ said
he, with the deepest concern, ‘may I
beg the life of my uncle’.2 If it is
granted, his relations will make a gift
to the state of a thousand zechins. We
will furnish fifty soldiers in pay during
the siege of Furiana. We will agree
that my uncle shall be banished, and
will engage that he shall never return
to the island.’ I knew the nephew to
be a man of worth, and I answered him,
‘You are acquainted with the circum-
stances of this case: such is my confi-
dence in you, that if you will say, that
giving your uncle a pardon would be
just, useful, or honorable for Corsica, I
promise you it shall be granted.’ He
turned about, burst into tears, and left
me, saying in his native language, ‘I
would not have the honor of our coun-
try sold for a thousand zechins.’ His
uncle suffered.”
( c ) PATRIOTIC MOTHER. —
History furnishes many examples of
mothers, led away by the seductive at-
tractions of honor, riches, and grandeur,
to sacrifice the true happiness of their
children, in the hope of securing the
future fortune and rank of their posteri-
ty. Russia, however, furnishes one in-
stance of a mother who opposed the
elevation of her child to the highest
dignity, with the utmost anxiety. Dur-
ing the interregnum that succeeded the
unfortunate reign of Chowski, in 1610,
the Russian nobles agreed to give the
crown to a near relation, on the mater-
nal side, of the Czar Fedor Iwanovitch.
They accordingly invited young Mi
chael Romanof and his mother to Mos-
cow, but they both refused to attend;
605
312
PATRIOTISM.
the mother even went further ; she
wrote to her brother Cheremetef, to beg
of him to oppose the elevation of his
nephew to a throne, since his extreme
youth rendered him incapable of under-
taking so important a charge. The
election, however, proceeded, and Mi-
chael Romanof was chosen Emperor.
When the deputies repaired to Kestre-
ma, to announce to the new sovereign
the choice they had made of him, his
mother begged a private interview with
the plenipotentiaries, before she intro-
duced them to her son. They consent-
ed, and met her in the church, where,
with tears, she renewed her entreaties,
and begged of them to choose some per-
-on more able to govern the people than
her son. She was informed that, hav-
ing decided, the nobles would not revoke
their choice. “ I/Vell, then,” said she,
“I must content myself with soliciting
you to take my child under your guar-
dianship; he has not been educated
in the diflicult art of governing man-
kind ; but you have elected him-you
insist on him for your monarch, and if
he does not fulfil your expectations, you
alone will be answerable to God for the
events of which your choice may be the
cause; but as for me, I have done my
duty to my God, my country, and my
child.”
(d) WASHINGTON AND HIS
FRIENDS.-—An anecdote is told of the
great Washington, which exhibits, in a
fine light, the distinction between pub-
lic duty, and private friendship. Dur-
ing his administration as President of
the United States, a gentleman, the
friend and the companion of the general,
throughout the whole course of the re-
volutionary war, applied for a lucrative
and very responsible office. The gen-
tleman was at all times welcome to
VVashington’s table ; he had been, to a
certain degree, necessary to the domes-
tic repose of a man, who had for seven
years fought the battles of his country,
and who had now undertaken the task
of wieldi ‘lg her political energies. At
all times, and in all places, Washington
regarded his revolutionary associate
with an eye of evident partiality and
kindness. He was a jovial, pleasant,
and unobtrusive companion. In apply-
ing for this office, it was accordingly
in the full confidence of success; and
his friends already cheered him on the
prospect of his arrival at competency
and ease. The opponent of this gentle-
man, was known to be decidedly hos-
tile to the politics of Washington; he
had even made himself conspicuous
among the ranks of opposition. He
had, however, the temerity to stand as
candidate for the office to which the
friend and the favorite of VVashington
aspired. He had nothing to urge in
favor of his pretensions, but strong
integrity, promptitude, and fidelity in
business, and every quality which, if
called into exercise, would render ser-
vice to the state. Every one consider-
ed the application of this man hopeless;
no glittering testimonial of merit had he
to present to the eye of VVashington;
he was known to be his political enemy ;
he was opposed by a favorite of the ge-
neral’s; and yet, with such fearful
odds, he dared to stand candidate.
VVhat was the result’2 The enemy of
Washington was appointed to the office,
and his table companion was left desti-
tute and dejected. A mutual friend,
who interested himself in the affair,
ventured to remonstrate with the presi-
dent on the injustice of his appointment.
“ My friend,” said he, “I receive with
a cordial welcome ; he is welcome to
my house, and welcome to my heart;
but, with all his good qualities, he is not
a man of business. His opponent is,
with all his political hostility to me, a
man of business; my -private feelings
have nothing to do in this case. I am
not George Washington, but President
of the United States ; as George Wash-
ington, I would do this man any kiI-i-
ness in my power; but as President of
the United States, I can do nothing.”
606
PEACE-MAKERS.
313. PEACE-MAKERS.
(a) TRUE PEACE-MAKER.-
Wheii Mr. Welch accepted of the call
to Ayr, he found the wickedness of the
people, and their hatred to religion so
reat, that no one would let him a house,
till Mr. John Stewart, an eminent Chris-
tianyand some time provost of Ayr, ac-
commodated him with an apartment in
his house, and became his lasting friend.
Mr. VVelch first addressed himself to
the arduous task of healing their divi-
sions, uniting their factious parties, and
putting an end to their daily battles,
which were so desperate, that no one
could walk in the street even in the
day-time, without the most imminent
danger of being wounded. His method
was this : after he had put a helmet on
his head, he would go between the
parties of fighting men, already covered
with blood; but he never took a sword,
which convinced them that he came not
to fight, but to make peace. When
he had brought them, by little and little,
to hear him speak, and to listen to his
arguments against such inhuman pro_
ceedings, he would order a table to be
spread in the street, and, beginning with
prayer, persuade them to profess them-
selves friends, and to sit down, and to
eat and drink,together; which, when
done, he would finish this labor of love
With singing a psalm. Thus, by de-
grees, laboring among them in word and
doctrine, for he preached every day,
and setting them a good example, he
brought them to be a peaceable and
happy people ; and he grew, at length,
in such esteem among them, that they
made him their counsellor, to settle all
their differences and misunderstandings,
and would take no step of importance
in civil affairs without his advice.
(b) ENVIABLE REPUTATION.
--John Dickinson, Esq., of Birming-
ham, was often called by way of dis-
tinction, “ The Peace-maker ;” and
such was his anxiety to keep the bonds
of peace from being broken—-such was
his solicitude to heal the breach when
made, that he would stoop to any act but
that of meanness-—-make any sacrifice

but that of principle--and endure any
mode of treatment, not excepting even
insult and reproach. From the high
estimate in which his character was
held, he was often called upon to act as
umpire in cases of arbitration, and it
was but rarely, if ever, that the equity
of his decisions was impeached. On
one occasion, two men were disputing
in a public-house about the result of
an arbitration, when a third said, “ Had
John Dickinson any thing to do with
it ’!” “Yes,” was the reply. “ The:
all was right, I am sure ;” and in this
opinion the whole party concurred, and
the disputation ceased.
(c) PACIFIC MINISTER.-—-George
VVishart, one of the first Scottish mar-
tyrs at the time of the reformation, be-
ing desired to preach on the Lord’s day,
in the church of M auchline, went thither
with that design ; but the sheriff of Ayr
had, in the night time, put a garrison of
soldiers into the church to keep him out.
Hugh Campbell, of Kinzeancleugh, with
others in the parish, were exceedingly
offended at this impiety, and would
have entered the church by force ; but
\Vishart would not suffer it, saying,
“ Brethren, it is the word of peace which
I preach unto you ; the blood of no man
shall be shed for it this day. Jesus
Christ is as mighty in the fields as in
the church, and he himself, while he
lived in the flesh, preached oftener in
the desert and on the seaside, than in the
temple of Jerusalem.” Upon this the
people were appeased, and went with
him to the edge of a moor, on the south-
west of Mauchline, where, having
placed himself upon a mound of earth,
he preached to a great multitude. He
continued speaking for more than three
hours, God working wondrously by him,
insomuch that Laurence Ranken, the
Laird of Shield, a very profane person,
was converted by his discourse. The
tears ran from his eyes, to the astonish_
ment of all present; and the whole of
his after life witnessed that his profes
sion was without hypocrisy.
607
314
PERJ URY.

- -Q -
314. PERJURY.
(a) FORSVVEARING A DEBT.-—At
a J ustice’s Court, held at Mayslick, Ken-
tucky, says an eye-witness, a cause
came on to be heard, wherein the sum
in dispute was '75 cts. due to the plain-
tiff, a tavern-keeper for whisky.
Neither party having any testimony
to introduce, Mr. S , one of the jus-
tices, for the purpose of obtaining some
knowledge of the situation of the claim,
permitted the parties to go into a free
conversation, on the subject of their
dealings.
After considerable aflirmation on one
side, and denial on the other, the plain-
tiff told the defendant, if he would swear
he had paid for two half pints, he would
strike them out of his account ; defend-
ant said he would, and asked Mr. S—--
to administer the oath, but he being con-
scious from prior confessions of the de-
fendant, that it was impossible it could
be so, said to him, I feel a delicacy in
doing so, and you had better pay it;
it’s a trifling sum, I would not take the
trouble to swear for it. Something at
that moment called the attention of Mr.
S from the subject, and before he
again had fixed his eyes on the defend-
ant, he had stept to Mr. Y , another
of the magistrates, in the other corner of
the room, and had sworn in the most so-
lemn manner, to the payment of the
money, of which he immediately inform-
ed Mr. S .
Until this awful period, the defendant
had retained his usual appearance of
health and vigor; but, alas! no sooner
had he turned about to inform Mr. S--—
of his successful attempt to commit the
horrid crime of perjury, than a death-
like paleness was visible on his counte-
nance ; the people in the room simul-
taneously remarked, with astonishment,
the change so instantaneously effected
in his appearance. Mr. S himself
remarked, when relating the circum-
stance, that he had the appearance of a
man already two days dead. Judg-
ment was entered for fifty cents, and he
retired from the scene of his guilt. But
wretched infatuated mortal ! he could



not retire from conscious guilt. He toes
neither refreshment nor sleep that night;
but appeared restless, (as his wife re-
lates,) and rolled in his bed from side to
side, like one bereft of every earthly
enjoyment. Morning came; but with
it brought no relief to his perturbed
bosom. Still taking no food, after break-
fast he went to the field, where a num-
ber of reapers had met to cut his grain ;
he gave them some incoherent direc-
tions relative to the harvest, and return-
ed to his house. The whole day was
spent in thoughtful musings, and appa-
rent agony of mind : and another night
was spent like the preceding. In the
morning, a short time after he had left
his bed, he was seen running upon all-
fours through the door-yard, and ex-
claiming. “ John Johnston (the name of
the constable who attended the trial) and
the Devil are after me.” He was
picked up by some men who were about
the house, and set down on the step of
the door. In a few minutes he sudden-
ly started from his seat, and again com-
menced running upon his hands and feet
as before ; and exclaiming most awfully,
“ John Johnston and the Devil are after
me.” In this manner he made his way
into a small field of corn which stood
open to the door-yard, and as he ran
between the rows of corn, he tore up
a number of hills by the roots, and whilst
thus engaged, and before he could be
reached by his pursuers, in the act of
tearing up a cornhill, he suddenly and
instantaneously expired.
(b) THE SENATOR’S OATH.-—
Mr. J . Taygart was elected a Senator
from the county of Columbiana to the
second General Assembly of the State
of Ohio. He appeared and made the
necessary oaths, and took his seat. In
a few days he became melancnoly,
which soon progressed to insanity. In
his insane ravings he disclosed that he
was not thirty years of age when he
took the oath of oflice and his seat ; and
that his conscience upbraided him with
the crime of perjury in taking an oath
to support the constitution, and at the
608
PEP.§‘ECUTION--PERSECUTORS, END OF.

same moment taking a seat in violation
of its provisions. From this insanity he
never recovered, and survived its com-
mencement but a few months.
(0) STENNETT AND HIS EN-
EMIES.-—-Dr. Samuel Stennett dwelt
in the castle of Wallingford, (Eng.)
where no warrant except that of the
Lord Chief Justice could reach him;
and the house was so situated that reli-
gious assemblies could meet there with-
ofit any danger of legal conviction, un-
less informers were admitted, which
care was taken to prevent. A justice
of peace in the neighborhood, highly in-
censed at this, resolved, together with a
clergyman, upon a conviction of the of-
fence by suborning false witnesses.
Several persons, therefore, were hired
to swear they had heard prayer and
preaching at the castle, though they
never had been present. Mr. Stennett
finding an indictment laid against him
on the Conventicle Act, and being well
assured that nothing but perjury could
support it, resolved to traverse it ; and
accordingly did so. The assizes were
held at N ewbury ; and when the time
approaclied, his adversaries greatly tri-
umphed in their expected success. But
314--316
the scene was suddenly changed. News
came to the justice that his son at Ox-
ford was gone off with a player: this
prevented one perjurer from attending.
The clergyman, who was determined to
be present, and boasted of the service
that would be done to the church by
prosecution, was removed by sudden
death. One of the witnesses who lived
at Cromast, was prevented by a violent
disease, of which he subseque; tly died.
Another of them fell down and broke
his leg, and so was hindered. In short,
of seven or eight persons who were en-
gaged in this design, only one was left
capable of appearing. He was a gar-
dener, who had frequently been em-
ployed by Mr. Stennett at day-labor,
who had never been admitted into the
meeting. This man was expected to be
a very material witness, and was kept
in liquor several days for that purpose.
But coming to his reason just as the as-
sizes drew near, he went about town
exclaiming against his ingratitude and
perjury, and refused to go. So when
Mr. Stennett came to N ewbury, neither
prosecutor or witnesses appearing
against him, he was of course dis-

; charged.
315. PERSECUTION.
(a\ DIOCLESIAN’S CONFES-
SION.—-Dioclesian, the last and the
Worst of the Roman persecuting emper-
ers, observed, that the more he sought
to blot out the name of Christ, the more
legible it became; and that whatever
of Christ he thought to eradicate, it took
the deeper root, and rose the higher in
the hearts and lives of men.
(Z2) THE HIGHEST HONOR.—-
One of the witnesses of the truth, when
imprisoned for conscience’ sake in
Queen Mary’s persecution of the
Church, is said to have thus written to
a friend : “ A prisoner for Christ! \Vhat
is this for a poor worm? Such honor
have not all his saints. Both the de-
grees which Itook in the University,
have not set me so high as the honor of
becoming a prisoner of the Lord.”

316. PERSECUTORS, END OF.
(a) END OF HEROD THE
GREAT.-—The disease of which Her-
od the Great died, and the misery
which he suffered under it, plainly
showed that the hand of God was then
long after the murders at Bethlehem,
his distemper, as Josephus informs us,
daily increased in an unheard-of man-
ner. He had a lingering and wasting
fever, and grievous ulcers in his en-
in a signal manner upon him; for not trails and bowels; a violent colic, and
609
316
PERSECUTOR S, END OF.


insatiable appetite ; a venomous swell-
ing in his feet ; convulsions in his
nerves; a perpetual asthma, and offen-
sive breath ; rottenness in his joints and
other members ; accompanied with
prodigious itchings, crawling worms,
and intolerable smell : so that he was a
perfect hospital of incurable distem-
ers.
(b) DEATH OF JULIAN.--The
Roman Emperor Julian, a determined
enemy of Christianity, was mortally
wounded in a war with the Persians.
In this condition, we are told that he
filled his hand with blood, and casting
it into the air, said, “ O Galilean I thou
hast conquered.” During this expedi-
tion, one of J ulian’s followers asked a
Christian of Antioch, “ What the car-
penter’s son was doing ?” “ The Mak-
er of the world,” replied the Christian,
“ whom you call the carpenter’ s son, is
employed in making a coffin for the
emperor.” In a few days after, news
came to Antioch of J ulian’s death.
(0) NERO, DOMITIAN, AND
OTHERS.——-Persecutors, and others
who have unjustly shed the blood of
their fellow-creatures, have often, in
the righteous providence of God, met
with a violent death, or been visited by
signal judgments. Nero was driven
from his throne, and perceiving his life
in danger, became his own execution-
er; Domitian was killed by his own
servants; Hadrian died of a distressing
disease, which was accompanied with
great mental agony; Severus never
prospered in his affairs after he perse-
cuted the church, and was killed by
the treachery of his son; Maximinus
reigned but three years, and died a vi-
olent death; Decius was drowned in a
marsh, and his body never found ; Va-
lerian was taken prisoner by the Per-
sians, and, after enduring the horrors
of captivity for several years, was flay-
ed alive; Dioclesian was compelled to
resign his empire, and became insane;
Maximianus Herculeus was deprived
of his government, and strangled ; Max-
imianus Galerius was suddenly and aw-
fully removed by death ; and Severus
committed suicide.
(d) DEATH OF CHARLES IX.
- Charles IX of France was a cruel

~ -A
and persecuting monarch, (wnness the
massacre at Paris in 1575,) and died in
a very wretched state. He expired,
bathed in his own blood, which burst
from his veins, and in his last moments
he exclaimed, “ What blood I-—what
murders !—-I know not where I am I--
how will all this end ’?——-what shalll
do ?—-I am lost forever !—-I know it I”
(e) THE EARL’S BOAST.—-Fe.
lix, earl of Wurtembure, one of the
captains of the Emperor Charles V, be-
ing at supper at Augsburg, in company
with many who were threatening the
sorest punishments on the persons of
the pious Christians of that day, swore,
before them all, that before he died he
would ride up to his spurs in the blood
of the Lutherans. That same night he
was choked, probably by the bursting
of a blood-vessel, which filled his throat,
and at once removed him from the
world.
(f) THE EMIGRANT’S PERSE.
CUTORS.-—A number of persons, in the
north of England, once determined to
emigrate to South Africa. They had a
great dread of what they called Method-
ism, and refused to allow a young man,
who was reputed to belong to that body
of Christians, to go with them. They
had not, however, been many days at
sea, before it was discovered, that not-
withstanding their most strenuous en-
deavors to prevent the exportation of
Methodism, they had got an excellent
old man aboard, who privately exhorted
his fellow passengers to fear God, and
flee from the wrath to come. The
flame of persecution was now lighted
up ; and Mr. C., the leader of the party,
availed himself of every opportunity to
annoy and injure poor Mr. P. In the
course of the passage, his wife and son
were taken alarmingly ill ; but, so hit-
ter Was the spirit which prevailed
against him, that it was with difficulty
he obtained even the medicines provid-
ed by government, which their state
rendered absolutely necessary. The
above-mentioned gentleman, who had
the affairs of the party almost wholly
under his control, frequently threatened
not only to deprive him of the land to
which he was legally entitled, but of all
the privileges of the settlement, unless
610
PERSECUTORS, END OF.
316
he kept his religion to himself. In his
mer1ees and designs, this petty Nero
was supported by three or four others,
who were influenced by a similar spir-
it. The earth, however, is the Lord’s,
and “though hand join in hand, the
wicked shall not go unpunished.” Two
only of those persecutors lived to see
the settlement. The death of one was
occasioned by intemperance and dissi-
pation while at sea. The head of the
party himself fell sick immediately af-
ter his arrival at Algoa Bay, and there
expired, in dreadful agony, both mental
and bodily. He therefore never set
foot on the land which he had so arro-
gantly affected to command. Another
of his comrades was taken off suddenly,
and carried to the grave along with
him! A fourth, being some time after-
ward provoked by his companion, the
only survivor of the five, presented his
fowling-piece at him, and lodged the
contents in his breast; for which he
was, of course, arrested, and conveyed
to prison in Graham’s Town. But his
spirit and conduct having apparently
rendered life burdensome, and filled his
dungeon with insufferable gloom, the
unhappy wretch hung himself in his
cell ! “ Woe unto the wicked ! it shall
be ill with him; for the reward of his
hands shall be given him: but say ye
to the righteous, it shall be well with
him; they shall eat the fruit of their
doings.”
The poor old Methodist now began,
more earnestly than ever, to call all
around him to repentance, and actually
became the virtual head of the party ;
he obtained favor in the eyes of the peo-
ple, and was ever after looked up to as
their chief counsellor in all matters of
importance. His rustic cottage was no
sooner built than converted into a place
of worship, wherein Divine service was
regularly performed, until, by steady
zeal and praiseworthy exertions, they
were enabled to erect a neat little
chapel, which constitutes a lasting hon-
or to his memory. This good man is
now no more; but, although dead, by
his works he still speaketh ; and his
name is held in the highest estimation
b‘-' all who knew him.

(g) THE CONSTABLE’S AD-
MONITION.—-In 1682, some soldiers
came to break up a meeting where Mr.
Browning, who had been ejeeted from
Desborough, in Northamptonshire, was,
and to apprehend him. The constable
of the place, who was present, admon-
ished them to be well advised in what
they did,“ For,” said he, “ when Sir
was alive, he eagerly persecuted
these meetings, and engaged eight sol-
diers of the country troop to assist him,
whereof myself was one. Sir
himself is dead ; six of the soldiers are
dead; some of them were hanged, and
some of them broke their necks, and I
myself fell off my horse and broke my
collar-bone, in the act of persecuting
them. This has given me such a warn-
ing, that, for my part, I am resolved I
will never meddle with them more.”
(h) END OF BISHOP GARDI-
NER.—-On the day of the martyrdom
of Ridley and Latimer, Gardiner wait-
ed with impatience for the account of
their burning, having arranged that
messengers should be dispatched to in
form him as soon as the pile should bi
set on fire. He delayed sitting down t>.
his dinner till he received the desires
intelligence, which arrived about four
o’clock. He now sat down to his din-
ner, and, as Fox remarks, “ He was
not disappointed of his lust, but while
the meat was yet in his mouth the
heavy wrath of God came upon him.”
While at table he felt the first attacks
of a mortal disease, the effect of vices in
which he had long indulged ; and
though, for some days afterwards, he
was able to go out and attend the parli-
ament, his illness rapidly increased,
until, as was stated by one of his con-
temporaries, he became so offensive,
“that it was scarcely possible to get
any one to come near him.” The suf-
ferings of his mind were not less pain-
ful than those of his body. He fre-
quently exclaimed, “I have sinned like
Peter, but I have not wept like him.”
He endured these protracted pains lon-
ger than Ridley and Latimer had suf-
fered, lingering in this state till the 13th
of November, during which time it is
recorded, that, “ he spake little but


611
317
PHYSICIANS.

s_—u‘ —-
-__j-_-_y
blasphemy and filthiness, and gave up What were the sufferings of the mar
the ghost with curses in his mouth, in tyrs compared with these’.2
terrible and inexpressible torments.”
317. PHYSICIANS.
ta) HUMANITY OF WALKER.
—-The following anecdote of Dr. VValk-
er, well known as the director of the
London J ennerian and Vaccine Institu-
tions, is extracted from his memoir.
While our troops were using the
weapons of destruction, Dr. Walker
was busily employed in saving life.
His work of vaccination being com-
pleted, he attended the sick of the
British navy, and of the Turkish army.
The sense of weariness while engaged
in these works of mercy, he seems
hardly to have known; being assisted
by his friend General Sir John Doyle,
in prosecuting these labors of goodness.
The following extract of a letter from
that worthy officer speaks volumes.
“ The general can never forget the im-
pression made upon him by the extra-
ordinary situation in which he first
made an acquaintance with that amiable
and benevolent individual, Dr. Walker.
The day after the action, near Alexan-
dria, where the brave Abercrombie fell,
the general was riding over the field of
battle, attended by two orderly dragoons,
to see if there were any wounded,
French or English, who had escaped
notice the evening before; when, on
turning round a wall near the sea-side,
he was struck with an appalling sight
of more than a hundred French soldiers,
with their officers, huddled together,
desperately wounded by grape and
cannon shot from an English brig of
war. From being collected in the re-
cess of the wall, they had escaped no-
tice on the previous day of search, and
were exposed to the night air, and with
undressed wounds. Here the general
saw a man, evidently English, in the
garb of a Quaker, actively employed in
the heavenly task of giving his humane
assistance to those poor brave sufferers ;
giving water to some, dressing the
wounds of others, and affording conso-
lation to all. Upon inquiry ‘ne found
the benevolent individual to be Dr. John

\Valker, who was hnnself almost ex-
hausted, having been thus nobly em-
ployed from day-break, without any
assistance.”
(Z2) FOTHERGlLL’S GENER-
OSITY.— A worthy clergyman, a
friend of Dr. Fothergill, was, in the
early part of his life, settled in London
upon a curacy of 501. per annum. An
epidemical disease seized upon his wife
and five of his children. In this state of
distress he earnestly desired the doctor’s
advice, but dared not apply for it, from a
consciousness of being unable to reward
him for his attendance. A friend kind-
ly offered to accompany him to the
doctor’s, and give him his fee. They
took advantage of his hour of audience ;
and, after a description of the several
cases, the fee was offered and rejected,
but a note was taken of his place of re-
sidence. The doctor assiduously called
from day to day, till his attendance was
no longer necessary. The curate, anx-
ious to return some grateful mark of
the sense he entertained of his services,
strained every nerve to accomplish it ;
but his astonishment was great, when
the doctor, instead of receiving the
money he offered, put ten guineas into
his hand, desiring him to apply to him
without hesitation in future difficulties.
(c) THE SURGEON’S REPLY.-—
M. Boudon, an eminent surgeon, was
one day sent for by the Cardinal Du
Bois, Prime Minister of France, to per
form a very serious operation upon him.
The cardinal, on seeing him enter the
room, said to him, “ You must not ex-
pect to treat me in the same rough man-
ner, as you treat your poor miserable
wretches at your hospital of the Htitél
Dieu.” “ My lord,” replied M. Bou-
don with great dignity, “ every one of
those miserable wretches, as your emi-
nence is pleased to call them, is a prime
minister in my eyes.”
(at) DR. SMITH’S METHOD.-—
The benevolent and eccentric Dr. Smith
612
PHYSKHANS.
317
—\
When established in a practice equal to
that of any physician in London, did
what few physicians perhaps in great
ractice would have done. He set
apart two days for the poor in each week.
From those who were really poor, he
never took a fee ; and from those who
were of the middling ranks of life, he
never would take above half a guinea !
yet so great was the resort to him, that
he has in one day received fifty guineas
at half a guinea only from each pa-
tient!
(e) EXAMPLE OF SALTER.—
“ The functions of a simple, earnest and
skilful country surgeon,” says Cole-
ridge, “ living in a small town or village,
and circulating in a radius of ten miles,
are, and might always be made, supe-
rior in real, urgent, and fitting relief, to
the Lady Bountiful. Ioften think with
pleasure of the active, practical benev-
olence of Salter. His rides were often
sixty, averaging more than thirty miles
every day over bad roads and in dark
nights : yet not once has he been known
to refuse a summons, though quite sure
that he would receive no remuneration,
nay, not sure that it would not be ne-
cessary to supply wine or cordials,
which in the absence of the landlord of
his village, must be at his own expense.
This man was generally pitied by the
afliuent and idle, on the score of his
constant labors, and the drudgery which
he almost seemed to court. Yet with
little reason ; for I never knew the
man more to be envied, or more cheer-
ful, more invariably kind, or more pa-
tient; always kind from real kindness
and delicacy of feeling; never even
for a moment angry.
(J) “ WILL YOU TRUST MY
FATHER ’?”——-An aged Christian who
had long been an invalid and was depend-
ent on Christian charity for her sup-
port, on sending for a new physician
who had just come into the place, and
united _with the same church of which
she was a member, said to him, “ Doc-
tor, I wish to put myself under your
care, but I cannot do it unless you will
trust my father.” “ Well, ma’am,”
replied the physician, “I believe your
Father is rich; I may safely trust
Him ”——

(g) GOLDSMITH’S PATIENT.-
A poor woman understanding that Dr,
Goldsmith had studied physio, and hear-
of his great humanity, solicited him in
a letter to send her something for her
husband, who had lost his appetite and
was reduced to a most melancholy state.
The good natured poet waited on her
instantly, and, after ‘some discourse
with his patient, found him sinking in
sickness and poverty. The doctor told
him they should hear from in an hour,
when he would send them some pills
which he believed would prove effica-
cious. He immediately went home and
put ten guineas into a chip box, with
the following label; “ These must be
used as necessities require; be patient,
and of good heart.” He sent his ser-
vant with this prescription to the com-
fortless mourner, who found it contained
a remedy superior to any thing Galen
or his tribe could administer.
(it) THE TWO PHYSICIANS.-—
Is it possible, says a writer in the Amer-
ican Messenger for 18-17, for physicians
in full practice to be as regular in at-
tendance on public worship as other
men’.2 That physicians frequently
plead their business as an excuse for
neglecting a regular attendance in the
house of God is certainly true, but is
this a valid plea? does their business
justify their neglect’.Z The following
conversation which I chanced to over-
hear the other day, between two
physicians, may throw some light
upon the subject. They are both in
large practice in one of our northern
cities.
Dr. L. How happens it, Doctor B.,
that you are so regular in your attend-
ance upon the public and social meet-
ings of the church? I hear that you
are seldom absent, at least I always see
you there when I am. There must be
some secret about it, for your practice
is as extensive as mine, if not more so,
and with all my diligence I cannot
make out to attend half the time. I
really should like to know how you
manage it. I often Wish that I could so
arrange my business as never to be ab-
sent.
Dr B. You are frequently called in
613
318
POWER, ARBITRARY, CORRUPTING INFLUENCE OF.

consultation with your medical friends,
are you not ?
Dr. L. Certainly I am, once or twice
every day, and sometimes oftener.
Dr. B. Are you in the habit of meet-
ing your consultations punctually ‘.2
Dr. L. I am, and am seldom obliged
to make a draft upon the fifteen min-
utes’ grace usually allowed?
Dr. B. That is all the secret I have
about the matter. I have always made
1 a rule punctually and promptly to meet J

my consultations, and I feel that I have
at least two every Sabbath in the house
of God, and God who loveth the gates
ofZion more than all the dwellings of
Jacob, has for more than thirty years
enabled me, with very few exceptions, to
meet them.
Dr. L. thanked Dr. B. and thought
he should profit by the hint, and in the
hope that others may likewise, this par-
agraph is given to the Messenger.
318. POWER, ARBITRARY, CORRUPTING INFLUENCE OF.
(a) XERXES ANGRY VVITH
TI-IE HELLESPONT.—When the
force of the current had carried away
the temporary bridge which Xerxes had
caused to be thrown over the Hellespont,
on his grand expedition into Greece, he
was so enraged, that he not only order-
ed the heads of the workmen to be struck
off, but, like a madman, inflicted lashes
upon the sea, to punish it for its inso-
lence; he, moreover, affected to hold it
in future under his control, by throwing
fetters into it! “ A striking proof,” adds
the historian, “ how much the possession
of despotic power tends not only to cor-
rupt the heart, but even to weaken and
blind the understanding.”
(b) EFFECTS OF POWER ON
NERO.—The beginning of N ero’s
reign was marked by acts of the great-
est kindness and condescension; by af-
fability, complaisance, and popularity.
The object of his administration seem-
ed to be the good of his people; and,
when he was desired to sign his name
to a list of malefactors that were to be
executed, he exclaimed, “ I wish to hea-
ven I could not write!” He was an
enemy to flattery ; and when the Senate
had liberally commended the wisdom
of his government, Nero desired them
to keep their praises till he deserved
them. But mark the corresponding ten-
dency of arbitrary power! This was
the wretch who afterwards assassinated
his mother, who set fire to Rome, and
destroyed multitudes of men, women,
and children, and threw the odium of

that dreadful action on the Christians.
The cruelties he exercised towards them
were beyond description, while he seem-
ed to be the only one who enjoyed the
tragical spectacle. “The heart is de-
ceitful above all things and desperately
wicked ; who can know it '2” Arbitra-
ry power is dangerous, and who shall
be trusted with it’.2
(c) CATO, THE MODEL AND THE
MONSTER.——No man has ever lived
who was more celebrated for his scru-
pulous observance of the most exact
justice, and for the illustration furnish-
ed in his life of the noblest natural vir-
tues, than the Roman Cato. His strict
adherence to the nicest rules of equity
--his integrity, honor, and incorruptible
faith—-his jealous watchfulness over the
rights of his fellow citizens, and his
generous devotion to their interest, pro-
cured for him the sublime appellation
of “The Just.” Towards freemen his
life was a model of every thing just
and noble: but to his slaves he was a
monster. At his meals, when the dish-
es were not done to his liking, or when
his slaves were careless or inattentive
in serving, he would seize a thong and
violently beat them, in presence of his
guests. When they grew old or dis-
eased, and were no longer serviceable,
however long and faithfully they might
have served him, he either turned them
adrift and left them to perish, or starved
them to death in his own family. No
facts in his history are better authenti-
cated than these. And what so vititeds
614
POWER, ARBITRARY, CORRUPTIN G INFLUENCE OF.
318
his feelings and conduct towards these
slaves, but the fact that over them he
exercised arbitrary power’.Z
(cl) A WOMAN WITH TWO FA-
CES.—A lady, now in the West Indies,
was sent in her infancy to her friends,
near Belfast, in Ireland, for education.
She remained under their charge from
five to fifteen years of age, and grew up
every thing which her friends could
wish. At fifteen, she returned to the
West Indies—-was married—-and after
some years paid her friends near Bel-
fast a second visit. Towards white
people, she was the same elegant and
interesting woman as before ; apparent-
ly full of every virtuous and tender
feeling; but towards the colored people
she was like a tigress. If Wilberforce’s
name was mentioned, she would say,
“ Oh, I wish we had the wretch in the
West Indies, I would be one of the first
to help to tear his heart out !”—and then
she would tell of the manner in which
the West Indian ladies used to treat their
slaves. “ I have often,” she said, “ when
my women have displeased me, snatch-
ed their baby from their bosom, and
running with it to a well, have tied my
shawl round its shoulders and pretended
to be drowning it: oh, it was so funny
to hear the mother’s screamsl!”—and
then she laughed almost convulsively at
the recollection.
VVhat but the exercise of despotic
power could have thus steeled her sen-
sibilities and corrupted her mind?
(6) WEST INDIA PLANTER.—
A planter of the ‘Vest Indies, who was
owner of a considerable number of
slaves, treated them with the utmost
cruelty, whipping and torturing them
for the slightest fault. One of the un-
fortunate victims of his cruelty, think-
ing any change preferable to slavery
under such a barbarian, attempted to
make his escape among the mountain
Indians; but, unfortunately, was taken,
and brought back to his master. Poor
Arthur (so he was called) was immedi-
ately ordered to receive three hundred
lashes, when stripped; which were to
be given him by his fellow slaves, among
whom happened to be a new negro, just
Drought from Africa, and who had been

_ such atrocities.
purchased by the planter the day before.
This slave, the moment he saw the un.
happy wretch destined to the lashes, flew
to his arms, and embraced him with the
greatest tenderness ; the other returned
his transports, and nothing could be more
moving than their mutual bemoaning
each other’s misfortunes. Their mas-
ter was soon given to understand that
they were countrymen and intimate
friends ; and that Arthur had formerly,
in a battle with a neighboring nation,
saved his friend’s life at the extreme
hazard of his own. The new negro, at
the same time, threw himself at the
planter’s feet with tears, beseeching him,
in the most moving manner, to spare his
friend, or, at least, to suffer him to un-
dergo the punishment in his room, pro-
testing he would rather die ten thousand
deaths, than lift his hand against him.
But the wretch, looking on this as an
affront to the absolute power he pre-
tended over him, ordered Arthur to be
immediately tied to a tree, and his friend
to give him the lashes; telling him, too,
that for every lash not well laid on, he
should himself receive a score. The
new negro, amazed at a barbarity so un-
becoming a human creature, with a gen-
erous disdain refused to obey him, at
the same time upbraiding him with his
cruelty; upon which the planter, turn-
ing all his rage on him, ordered him to
be immediately stripped, and command-
ed Arthur, to whom he promised for-
giveness, to give his countryman the
lashes he had been destined to receive
himself. This proposal too was receiv-
ed with scorn, each protesting he would
rather suffer the most dreadful torture
than injure his friend. This generous
conflict, which must have raised the
strongest feelings in a breast susceptible
of pity, did but the more inflame the
monster, who now determined they
should both be made examples of; and
to satiate his revenge, was resolved to
whip them himself. He was just pre-
paring to begin with Arthur, when the
new negro drew a knife from his pock-
et, stabbed the planter to the heart, and
the following instant struck it to his own.
West India slavery was fruitful in
And why produce suclO
615
318, 319
POWER, VANITY OF.
results? Because it placed arbitrary
power in the master’s hand, making
him a despot on the small scale.
(f) SELLING ONE’S OWN
CHILD.-—A person who resided in a
slaveholding country, sold a black wo-
man and her mulatto child to a negro
trader. The woman Lnew nothing .of
the sale until she and her child were
taken possession of by the purchaser.
She was, it appears, a female of spirit,
and as she was now out of the hands of
her former master, and must go, she
knew not whither, she took occasion to
vent her indignant feelings in language
that showed at once the courage of the
Roman matron, as it respected herself,
and the heartless villany of a slave-
dealer, when applied to him. Walking
toward him with her child in her arms,
319. POWER,
(a) CYRUS’ CROWN .--Cyrus, the
Persian king, was accustomed to say,
that did men but know the cares he had
to sustain, he thought no man would
wish to wear his crown.
(Z2) GILIMEX VICTORIOUS.-—-GL
hmex, king of the Vandals, when he
W as led in triumph by Belisarius, cried
out, “ Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”
(c) WORDS OF CHARLES V.-
Charles V, emperor of Germany, whom
of all men the world judged most hap-
py, cried out, in reference to whatever
is generally considered good and great,
“Get you hence, let me hear no more
of you.”
(d) ALEXANDER’S TEARS.-
The conquests of Alexander the Great
could not satisfy him ; for when he had
conquered the whole of one known
world, he sat down and wept because
he knew of no other world to conquer.
(e) SKETCH OF MENZIKOFF.—
Menzikoff, who was at first a pastry
cook, accidentally coming into favor of
Peter the Great, rose with a rapidity
beyond example. He was loaded with
honors, and frequently appeared in pub-
lic as vice-czar, the emperor assuming
the rank of a private person. It is not
very surprising, that so extraordinary



‘-
sh-e interrogated him as follows: “ Well,
sir, I am sold, am 12” “Yes,” was
the reply. She continued—“ This gen-
tleman, I suppose, then, is my master.”
He answered in the affirmative. “ VI/‘ell,
now,” she proceeded, “ I will tell you to
your face, that you are one of the most
wicked, unmanly, cold-hearted crea-
tures, that I ever heard of. Here, sir,
is your own child-—-your own flesh and
hlood—w/tich, together with its mother,
you have sold for money ! .' Look at it,
sir. Your features are in its face——your
blood runs in its veins——and yet, you’ve
sold it-—away ! I cannot bear the sight
of you.” And these results were the
legitimate fruits of the illegitimate and
irresponsible authority which the tyrant
exercised over her and her offspring.
VANITY OF.
and sudden an elevation should cause
Menzikoff sometimes to forget that he
was a man. His enemies trembled at
his presence; for, as his power was
great, so was his revenge. After the
death of his imperial master, to whom
he was warmly attached, he remained
faithful to Catherine ; and upon her de-
cease, he placed the crown upon the
head of Peter III, son of the unfortu-
nate Alexis, and grandson of his bene-
factor. It is said he had formed the
ambitious design of marrying his daugh-
ter to this young prince. The sun of
prosperity, however, which had hither-
.0 shone in meridian splendor upon Al-
exander Menzikoff, was now fast sink-
ing into the darkest gloom. The Dol-
goroukis, a noble family who hated him,
were artful, pliable, and insinuating;
Peter was young, unsuspicious, and
easily imposed upon by the frank and
apparently disinterested friendship of
the younger branches of the family.
The ruin of the man who had placed
him on the throne, was now, at the in-
stigation of the Dolgoroukis, resolved
on, and the fall of Menzikoif was even
more rapid than his rise. As he had
seldom shown mercy, so little was shown
to him. His banishment to Berezof was
616
PRAYER.
attended with every aggravation that
could be imagined. Previous to this
fatal sentence, he had been deprived of
his dignities, his pensions, his employ-
ments. This blow was quickly follow-
ed by another; he was banished the
court, and desired to confine himself to
his country house at Oranienburg. On
his way thither he was overtaken by a
messenger, accompanied by a party of
dragoons, who brought the fatal man-
date of banishment to Siberia. Bere-
zof is situated near the mouth of the
Oby; during six months in the year
there is no actual daylight, and the
earth is covered with frost and snow.
What a situation for persons who had
been used to every luxury, every in-
dulgence! The Princess Menzikoff
died on the journey, and was buried on
the banks of the Wolga. She had al-
ways very weak eyes, and they were
so affected by the cold and her exces-
sive weeping, that she lost her sight be-
fore the half of her journey was com-
pleted. This unfortunate family were
treated like the worst of criminals.—
Their dresses were twice changed ; first
to the coarsest woolen, then to the coars-
est stuffs. After being used to walk
upon the softest carpets, clothed in the
richest attire, and to travel with every
possible convenience, they were now

320
exposed to cold, and all the inclemen-
cies of the weather, in small wooden
carts made without springs, and which
are always used to convey criminals to
their place of exile. Menzikoff and one
of his daughters lived to reach Berezof,
but to end their days in that place of
solitude.
When Menzikoff found his death ap-
proaching, he called his children to his
bedside, and thus addressed them : “ My
children, I draw near to my last hour;
death, the thoughts of which have been
familiar to me since I have been here,
would have nothing terrible in it, if I
had only to account to the Supreme
Judge for the time I have passed in mis-
fortune. Hitherto your hearts have been
free from corruption. You will preserve
your innocence better in these deserts
than at court: but should you return to
it, recollect only the examples which
your father has given you here.”
On the accession of the Empress
Anne to the throne, Menzikoff’s young-
er daughter, and his son, returned to
Russia; and the Dolgoroukis felt, in
their turn, all the horrors they had con-
tributed to inflict on the Menzikoffs;
with this aggravation, that the same
person who conducted them to Berezof,
carried with him the recall of Menzi-
koff and his family.
PRAYER.
NATURE OF PB.AYER.——SCRIPTURAL
PRAYER.
8%. Praying with Faith.
(a) MINISTER LEARNING TO
PRAY.—A curious case occurred in
one of the towns in the western part of
the state of New-York. There was a
revival there. A certain clergyman
came to visit the place, and heard a
great deal said about the prayer of
faith. He was staggered at what they
said, for he had never regarded the sub-
ject in the light they did. He inquired
about it of the minister who was labor-
ing there. The minister requested him,
in a kind spirit, to go home and take his

Testament, look out the passages that
refer to prayer, and go round to his most
praying people, and ask them how they
understood those passages. He said he
would do it, for though these views were
new to him, he was willing to learn.
He did it, and went to his praying men
and women, and read the passages with-
out note or comment, and asked them
what they thought. He found their
plain common sense had led them to un-
derstand these passages, and to believe
that they mean just as they say. This
affected him, and then the fact of his
going round and presenting the promises
before their minds, awakened a spirit
of prayer in them, and a revival fol
lowed.
617
320-322
PRAYER.

(Z1) PRAYER FOR A DYING
CHILD.-—A clergyman, concluding a
sermon to youth, took occasion to press
upon parents the duty of parental faith,
and illustrated its power in the following
manner :
About two-and-twenty years ago, a
little circle were met around the couch
of an apparently dying infant; the man
of God, who led their devotions, seemed
to forget the sickness of the child, in
his prayer for his future usefulness. He
prayed for the child, who had been con-
secrated to God at his birth, as a man,
a Christian, and a minister ot the word.
The parents laid hold of the horns of
the altar, and prayed with him. The
child recovered, grew towards manhood,
and ran far in the ways of folly and
sin. One after another of that little
circle ascended to heaven; but two, at
least, and one of them the mother, lived
to hear him proclaim the everlastmg
gospel. “ It is,” said the preacher, “ no
fiction; that child, that prodigal youth,
that preacher, is he who now addresses
ou.’
(0) GOOD REASON FOR PRAY-
ING.—-A little girl, about four years
of age, being asked, “ VVhy do you pray
to God ?” replied, “ Because I know he
hears me, and I love to pray to him."
“ But how do you know he hears you Cl”
Putting her little hand to her heart, she
said, “I know he does, because there is
something here that tells me so.”
(d) SECRET OF THE NEGRO’S
COMFORT.-—A negro slave in Vir-
ginia, whose name we will call Jack,
was remarkable for his good sense,
knowledge of the leading truths of the
gospel, and especially for his freedom
from all gloomy fears in re’gard to his
future eternal happiness. A professing
Christian, a white man, who was of a
very different temperament, once said
to him, “Jack, you seem to be always
comfortable in the hope of the gospel.
I Wish you would tell me how you man-
age it, to keep steadily in this blessed
frame of mind.” “ I/Vhy, massa, ’ re-
plied Jack, “ I just fall flat on the pro-
mise, and _ pray right up.” We re-
commend J ack’s method to all despond-
ing Christians, as containing, in sub-
stance, all that can be properly said on


-_ -
the subject. Take ground on the pro-
mises of God, and plead them in the
prayer of faith--pray “right up.’ ’
323. Praying with Submission.
(a) BOLINGBROKE AND LADY
HUN TINGDON .—Lord Bolingbroke
once asked Lady Huntingdon, how she
reconciled prayer to God for particular
blessings, with absolute resignation to
the Divine will. “Very easily,” an-
swered her ladyship; “just as ifI were
to offer a petition to a monarch, of whose
kindness and Wisdom I had the highest
opinion. In such a case, my language
would be, I wish you to' bestow on me
such or such a favor ; but your majesty
knows better than 1, how far it would
be agreeable to you, or right in itself to
grant my desire. I therefore content
myself with humbly presenting my
petition, and leave the event of it entire-
ly to you.”
(b) THE CHILD RESTORED.—-
A Christian widow in London saw with
great alarm, her only child taken dan-
gerously ill. As the illness increased
she became almost distracted, from a
dread of losing the child; at length it
became so extremely ill, and so con-
vulsed, that she kneeled down by the
bed, deeply affected, and in prayer said,
“Now, Lord, thy will be done.” From
that hour the child began to recover,
till health was perfectly restored.
3322. Praying with lmportnnity and Ear-
nestness
(a) A MOTHER’S INTERCES.
SION.——A Christian minister in Somer_
setshire, Eng., stated, that on the even_
ing when the first permanent impressions
were made on his mind, his pious mo-
ther was detained at home. She spent
the time devoted to public worship, in
secret prayer for the salvation of her
son ; and so fervent did she become in
these intercessions, that she fell on her
face, and remamed in fervent supplica.
tion till the service had nearly closed.
Her son, brought under the deepest im-
pressions by the sermon of his father,
went into a field after the service,
and there prayed most fervently for
618
NATURE OF PRAYER.
322, 323

himself. When he came home, the
mother looked at her son with a manifest
concern, anxious to discover whether
her prayers had been heard, and whe-
ther her son had commenced the all-
important inquiry, “ VV hat shall I do to
be saved '2” In a few days the son ac-
knowledged himself to be the subject
of religious impressions; impressions
which lay the foundation of all excel-
lence of character here, and of all
blessedness hereafter.
([1) MY HEART TALKED.—A
child, six years old, in a Sunday school,
said, “When we kneel down in the
school-room to pray, it seems as if my
heart talked.” Vain are words, if the
heart pray not.
(0) “WHY, SIR, I BEGGED.”-—
A little boy, one of the Sunday school
children, in Jamaica, called upon the
missionary, and stated that he had lately
been very ill ; and in his sickness often
wished his minister had been present to
pray with him. “But, Thomas,” said
the missionary, “I hope you prayed.”
“ Oh yes, sir.” “Did you repeat the
collect I taught you\'.l” “I prayed.”
“Well, but how did you pray ?”
“ Why, sir, I begged.”
$933. Praying with Gonstancy and Par-
SBV6l't1Il(l6.
(a) “PRAY I/VITHOUT CEAS-
IN G. ”—A number of ministers were
assembled for the discussion of difficult
questions, and among others it was
asked, how the command “to pray
without ceasing” could be complied
with. Various suppositions were start-
ed, and at length one of the number
was appointed to write an essay upon
it, to read at the next monthly meeting ;
which being overheard by a female
servant, she exclaimed, “ \Vhat! a
whole month wanted to tell the mean-
ing of that text! It is one of the easi-
est and best texts in the Bible. ”
“ VVell. well,” said an old minister,
“Mary, what can you say about it?
Let us know how you understand it;
can you pray all the time '.l ” “ O yes,
sir.” “What! when you have so
many things to do’.l ” “ Why, sir, the
more I have to do, the more I can

pray.” “Indeed; well, Mary, do let
us know how it is; for most people
think otherwise. ” “ VVell, sir, ” said
the girl, “ when I first open my eyes in
the morning,I pray, Lord, open the
eyes of my understanding; and while
I am dressing, I pray, that I may be
clothed with the robe of righteousness;
and when I have washed myself, I ask
for the washing of regeneration; and
as I begin to work, I pray, that I may
have strength equal to my lay. When
I begin to kindle the fire, I pray, that
God’s work may revive in my soul;
and asl sweep out the house, I pray,
that my heart may be cleansed from
all its impurities; and while preparing
and partaking of breakfast, I desire to
be fed with the hidden manna, and the
sincere milk of the word; and as I am
busy with the little children, I look up
to God as my Father, and pray for the
Spirit of adoption, that I may be his
child, and so on all day: every thing I
do furnishes me with a thought for
prayer.” “ Enough, enough, ” cried
the old divine, “these things are re-
vealed to babes, and often bid from the
wise and prudent. ” “ Go on, Mary,”
said he, “pray without ceasing; and
as for us, my brethren, let us bless the
Lord for this exposition, and remember
that He has said, ‘ The meek will he
guide in judgment. ’ ” The essay,
as a matter of course, was not consid-
ered necessary after this little event
occurred.
(b) VVHlTEFIELD’S PRAYERS
FOR HIS BROTHER.—One Lord’s
day morning, Mr. Whitefield, with his
usual fervor, exhorted his hearers to
give up the use of the means for the
spiritual good of their relations and
friends only with their lines ; remarking
that he had had a brother, for whose
spiritual welfare he hau used every
means. He had warned him and pray-
ed for him; and apparently to no pur-
pose, till a few weeks ago, when his
brother, to his astonishment and joy,
came to his house, and with many tears
declared, that he had come up from the
country, to testify to him the great
change that divine grace had wrought
upon his heart; and to acknowledge
with gratitude his obligation to the nan
619 ‘
323,324
PRAYER.
_- _-...
whom God had made the instrument
of it. Mr. Whitefield added, that he
had that morning received a letter
which informed him, that on his bro-
ther’s return to Gloucestershire, where
he resided, he dropped down dead as
he was getting out of the stage coach,
but that he had previously given the
most unequivocal evidence of his being
a new man in Christ J esus—-—“ There-
fore,” said Mr. \/Vhitefield, “let us
pray always for ourselves and for those
who are dear to us, and never faint. ”
(c) TWO WOMEN PRAYING.-—-
In the county of A. there lived, remote
from a village, two pious females, who
had been recently united with husbands
opposed to the gospel of Christ. These
young women beheld, with the keenest
sensation, the dear partners of their
lives pursuing a path which must soon
end in everlasting death. Each had
often carried her troubles and sorrows
to the throne of grace, and laid them
Defore One who knew the anxiety of her
heart, and each had often shed the
silent tear. As a great intimacy had
existed between those young females,
.hey jointly agreed to spend one hour
:laily in praying for their husbands.
They continued this prayer for seven
years without any visible effect. At
length, with hearts full of anguish, they
met to mingle together their sorrows.
Their inquiry was, shall we no longer
pray for our dear partners-—must they,
Db, must they be for ever miserable’.Z
They concluded that although their
prayers had not been answered, yet
they would persevere even unto the
end of life, in the course they had
adopted; and if their husbands would
go down to destruction, they should go
oaded with their prayers. They more-
over resolved to renew their strength,
and to pray more earnestly than ever.
Thus they continued for three years
longer. About this time one of them
was awakened in the night by the men-
<al distress of her husbano. Sleep had
departed from his eyes, distress and
anguish had seized his soul, for the
orayers of these females had come up
tn remembrance before the throne of
God; and the man who could once
ridicule the tender anxieties of a dis-
Q“
'—__
tressed wife, was how upon his knees
in the greatest agony. N ow, with car-
nestness, he entreated her to pray for
him ; for, said he, the day of grace is
almost over, and the door. of mercy is
ready to be closed against me for ever.
His distress, and the hope of the wife,
continued to increase. As soon as the
day dawned she went with an overflow-
ing heart to tell her praying companion,
that God was about to answer their
petitions. But great was her surprise,
to meet her friend coming on the se Wae
errand, to tell her what God was doing
for her own husband.
Thus after ten years’ perseverance
in calling mightily upon God, these
Christian females had the unspeakable
satisfaction of seeing both their hus-
bands brought on the same day to rea-
lize their undone condition, and about
the same time to accept, as it is hoped,
the offers of mercy.
8&4. Miscellaneous.
(a) THE PUBLICAN’S PRAYER.
—A Hottentot of immoral character,
being under deep conviction of sin, was
anxious to know how to pray. He
went to his master, a Dutchman, to
consult with him; but his master gave
him no encouragement. A sense of his
own wickedness increased, and he had
no one near him to direct him. Oc-
casionally, however, he was admitted
with the family at the time of prayer.
The portion of Scripture which was one
day read by the master, was the para-
ble of the Pharisee and the Publican.
'VVhile the prayer of the Pharisee was
read, the poor Hottentot thought within
himself, “This is a good man ; there is
nothing for me ;” lrut when his master
came to the prayer of the Publican—-
God be merciful to me a sinner—“ This
suits me,” he cried ; “ nowl lfiiow how
to pray I” With this prayer he imme-
diately retired, and prayed night and
day for two days, and then found peace.
Full of joy and gratitude, he went into
the fields, and as he had no one to
whom he could speak, he exclaimed,
“ Ye hills, ye rocks, ye trees, ye rivers,
hear what God has done for my soul I—--
he has been merciful to me, a sinner.”
620
NATURE OF PRAYER.
824; 325

(li) PHILIP HENRY’S PROMISE.
—-The following remark of Rev. Philip
Henry, after he had been engaged in
ardent prayer for two of his children,
that were dangerously ill, is so expres-
sive of the simplicity and tenderness
of Christian faith and love, as to recom-
mend itself to the hearts of those who
walk with God: “If the Lord will be
pleased to grant me this my request
concerning my children, I will not say
as the beggars at our door used to do,
‘ I’ll never ask any thing of him again 5’
but, on the contrary, he shall hear
oftener from me than ever ; and I will
love God the better, and love prayer
the better as long as I live.”
UNSCRIPTURAL PRAYER.
8%. Praying without Submission.
(a) THE BOY AND HIS DEAD
B.RD.-—“ What occasions that melan-
choly look '2” said a gentleman to one _
of his young favorites, one morning.
He turned away his face, to hide a tear
that was ready to start from his eyes.
His brother answered for him, “ Mother
is very angry with him,” said he, “ be-
cause he would not say his prayers last
night; and he cried all day, because a
sparrow died of which he was very fond.
The little mourner hastily turned round,
and looking at me exclaimed, “ I could
not say thy will be done, because of my
poor bird.” The gentleman took him by
the hand, and pointing to his school-fel-
lows, “ Mark the observation,” said he,
“ from the youngest present, only six
years old ; for it explains the nature of
prayer, of which, perhaps, some of you
are ignorant. Many persons repeat
words, who never prayed in their lives.
My dear boy,I am very glad to find
you were afraid to say to God what you
could not say truly from your heart;
but you may beg of him to give you
submisssion to his will.”
(li) MR. AND MRS. MART AND
THEIR SON.—-Mr. Edmund Calamy
relates, in his life, that some persons of
the name of Mart, in whose family he
resided for some time, had a son who
discovered the most wicked and impious
disposition. VVhen confined in prison,

he wrote letters professing penitence;
but, as soon as he had an opportunity,
he returned to his former sins.
This young man had been the darling
of both his father and mother ; and the
latter had set her affections upon him
to so great a degree, that when she
saw him a monster of wickedness, she
became deranged, and attempted to de
stroy herself, which she at length ef
fected. So far from being suitably im
pressed with this awful event, her son
now proceeded to greater lengths in
wickedness. At length he professed to
be sorry for his depraved course, and
applied to the Rev. Samuel Pomfret to
intercede for him with his father. He
was made ready for sea, but unhappily
became connected with a gang of vil-
lains, and, on the very night before he
was to set sail, he robbed Mr. Pomfret,
was pursued, tried, and condemned to
die.
On the Sabbath preceding the VVed-
nesday on which he was condemned to
die, his father entreated Dr. Calamy to
accompany him that evening to his cell
in Newgate, to converse with his un-
happy son, and to give his opinion as to
the propriety of seeking to obtain his
pardon. The doctor went, and found
him in a very awful state of mind, re-
senting different things which he con-
ceived his father had done wrong, and
saying that he might obtain a pardon
for him if he would but part with some
of his money. In vain did the doctor
expostulate with him on the improper
feelings he manifested, and entreat
him to humble himself before God on
account of his sins, as the only way of
engaging his friends to obtain for him a
reprieve. His reply was, “Sir, Iscorn
any thing of that nature; and would
rather die with my company.” The
doctor reasoned with him on the exist-
ence of a hereafter, charged him with
the death of his mother, taxed him with
the murder of some persons abroad,
whose blood he had actually shed, and
showed him the heavy punishment he
must endure in an eternal world unless
he turned to God, repented of his sins,
and prayed for pardon through the
atonement of the Lord Jesus. He ad
mitted the truth of all these things, bu)
621
325,326
PRAYER.
was filled with trifling unconeern. He
frankly said that he had no hope of be-
ing better 111 his character, and that, on
the contrary, he was satisfied she should
grow worse. The next morning he was
visited by Dr. Jekyl, who asked him
whether, during the whole time he had
been confined in N ewgate, he had once
bowed his knees to the great God, mak-
ing it his earnest request to him to give
him a sense of his sins, and to create in
him a tender heart: he admitted that
he had not, nor did he think it of any
use. He was promised that if he would
engage to pray morning and evening
for the grace of God. an effort should
be made, with every probability of suc-
cess, for a reprieve, and subsequently
a pardon. But he would make no
engagement, and was hung on the day
appointed.
On the day of his execution, the fa-
ther of this unhappy young man told
Dr. Calamy, that when the culprit was
a very young child, and their only
child, he was exceedingly ill with a
fever, and that both his wife and him-
self, thinking their lives were bound up
in the life of the child, were exceedmgly
importunate with God in prayer that
his life might be spared. A pious mo-
ther expostulated with him on the vehe-
mence he manifested, and said she
dreaded the consequence of his praying
in such a way, and that it became him
to leave the matter to an infinitely wise
God. At length the father said, “Let
him prove what he will, so he is but
spared, I shall be satisfied.” The old
man added, “ This I now see to have
been my folly. For, through the just
hand of God, I have lived to see this
wretched son of mine a heart-breaking
cross to them that loved him with the
greatest tenderness, a disgrace to my
whole family, and likely to bring my
gray hairs with sorrow to my grave.
I read my sin veryr distinctly in my
punishment; but must own that God is
righteous in all his ways, and holy in
all his works.”
(0) “I CANNOT BEAR IFS.”-—
It is of great importance that We should
entreat the Spirit of God to enable us to
pray as we ought. It is quite possible
to ask for what may appear to us good

things, but which, if we had them, would
prove evil. Rachel, indulging a petu-
lant disposition, said, “ Give me children,
or I die :” her desire was granted, and
as the result she died.
The late Mr. Kilpin, of Exeter, writes,
“ I knew a case, in which the minister,
praying over a child apparently dying,
said ‘ If it be thy will, spare .’
The poor mother’s soul yearning for her
beloved, exclaimed, ‘It must be his
will! I cannot hear The minister
stopped. To the surprise of many the
child recovered; and the mother, after
almost suffering martyrdom by him
while a stripling, lived to see him hang-
ed before he was two-a d-twenty! Oh!
it is good to say, ‘ Ngot my will, but
thine be done.’ ”

8%. Various Examples.
(a) PRAYER VVITHOUT EF.
FORT.-—-At a boarding school in the
vicinity of London, a Miss , one of
the scholars, was remarked for repeating
her lessons well ; aschool-fellow rather
idly inclined, said to her one day,
“ How is it that you always say your
lessons so perfectly Cl” She replied, “ I
always pray that I may say my lessons
well.” “Do you '2” said the other;
“ well, then, I will pray too :” but,
alas! the next morning she could not
even repeat a word of her usual task.
Very much confounded, she ran to her
friend, and reproached her as deceitful:
“I prayed,” said she, “ but I could not
say a single word of my lesson.”
“ Perhaps,” rejoined the other, “you
took no pains to learn it !” “Learn it !
learn it !” answered the first, “ I did not
learn it at all. I thought I had no oc-
casion to learn it, when I prayed that I
might sa it.”
(1)) ABUSE IN PRAYER.--Mr.
John Kilpin, father of the Rev. Samuel
Kilpin, of Exeter, having from some
cause displeased a member of the
church ; at a prayei meeting, his offend-
ed brother used most unbecoming ex-
pressions respecting him in prayer.
On his family’s offering their sympathy
and expressing resentment, he said,
with a mind unruffled, “ I was not the
least hurt on my own account ; such

622
NATURE OF PRAYER.
326
-—
talking never goes any higher than the
ceiling; the God of love never admits
it as prayer.”
(0) PRAYERS TOO SELFISH.—
A man once complained to his minister,
that he had prayed for a whole year
that he might enjoy the comforts of re-
ligion, but found no answer to his pray-
ers. The minister replied, “ Go home
now, and pray, Father, glorify thyself.”
Reader, are you one of those who find
no profit in calling upon God? Ask
yourself if your prayers are not all
selfish.
(cl) OBJECTS OF PRAYER.-—A
gentleman conversing with his friend re-
specting the exercisei of his own mind,
before and after conversion, observed
that there was a great difference as to
the objects of prayer. “ Whenl was,”
said he, “only a nominal Chr1stian,I
used to pray to my family, if any
strangers were present I prayed to them,
when I was alone I prayed to mysel]f——
but since I have bf!-3n renewed by di-
vine grace, in all my prayers I pray to
God !”
(e) PRAYING TO MAN.-—In the
town of , in Connecticut, there lived
Mr. S—-, an elderly man of undoubted
piety, and one whose catholic and
Christian spirit led him to associate
with the people of God of all denomina-
tions. He circulated to some extent,
among Congregationalists, Baptists and
Methodists; attended many of their
prayer meetings, and was frequently in-
vited to conduct them. Every Chris-
tian loved Father S——. One evening
he was to conduct a meeting for pray er,
and had opened it with reading a por-
tion of Scripture, after which he pro-
posed to lead in prayer. He had nearly
finished his chapter, when elder L——,
a Baptist minister of high-toned Calvin-
istic sentiments, entered and took his
seat near him. The thought crossed his
mind. “ Nowl am rather moderate in
some 3f my views, and I must try to
shape my prayer so as not to give of-
fence to good brother L—-.” With this

_ thought in his mind, he kneeled and
commenced with a few words of address
to the Deity—-became confused, and
stopped. A second and third attempt
were made with similar results. No one

except the Baptist brother could conjec-
ture what it was that occasioned the
embarrassment of father S—-. At length
he exclaimed, “I don’t know what ails
me, I can’t pray a bit I” “ I know what
ails you,” said Mr. L—, “ you are try-
ing to pray to me; pray to God and
you will get along well enough.” “I
believe you are right,” said the old gen-
tleman, “I will try once more.” He
did so, and succeeded to the edification
of all present.
SAYING PRAYERS SEV-
EN TY YEARS.—A poor old man,
when a child of three years of age, haa
been taught by his mother to repeat
a prayer every night, Vhich he did till
he was ‘seventy-three years old; and
not a little proud was he to say that he
had not omitted saying his prayers
every night for seventy years I At this
advanced age, it pleased God to afilict
him severely ; he was led by the Holy
Spirit to see that he was a poor sinner,
who had been living in the form of god-
liness, but had never felt its power.
He was enabled to spend the last few
years of his life in humble dependence
on the grace of Christ; and when he
referred to himself, he would often add,
“ I am the old man who said his pray-
ers for seventy years, and yet all that
time never prayed at all.”
(g) IRREVERENCE IN PRAY-
ER.—An aged minister told me, says
a correspondent of the Morning Star,
that when he was'a young man. he had,
on a certain occasion, been praying in a
family, and in his prayer he had made
a very frequent and energetic use of the
terms of good Goal and God Almighty.
At the close of his prayer, a little child,
about four years of age, came to his
mother and said, “Mother, Idon’t like
to hear that minister pray I” Why, in-
quired the mother. “ Because,” said
the child, “ he swears so when he
prays.” This reproof from the child,
broke the minister of swearing when
he prayed. Prayer is petition : and no
one would use the name of a ruler, to
whom he was making a petition in as
harsh a manner as many use the name
of the great God.
(h) A LONG PRAYER’-—Rev.
Mr. while traveli lg through one of

623
327
PRA YER.

the western States, stopped for the night
at the house of a worthy member of a
church. When Mr. entered the
house, the old gentleman was about
commencing family worship. Mr.
being seated, he who was the head
of the family proceeded with worship ;
and after having read and sung the usual
length of time, he, together with all who
were present, kneeled in prayer. Mr.
—- thought the prayer extremely long,
but being much fatigued with the day’s
journey, supposed that his impression
with regard to its length might have
arisen, in some degree, from that circum-
stance. After having made a slight
change in his attitude, he endeavored to
compose himself. and \\ ait patiently un-
til the service should end. But the
prayer continuing for near an hour, he
could no longer control his impatience ;
but turning to a son of the old gentle-
man, who was kneeling or reclining
near him, asked him if his father was
not almost through with his prayer.
The youth inquired if he had yet got
to the Jews ? Mr. -— replied that he be-
lieved not. \Vell, said he, he is not half
done yet.


OCCASIONS OF PRAYER.
3%’/'. Secret Prayer.
(a) MELANCTHON’S EXPE-
RIENCE.--When Melancthon was en-
treated by his friends to lay aside the
natural anxiety and timidity of his tem-
er, he replied, “If I had no anxieties,
f should lose a powerful incentive to
prayer ; but when the cares of life im-
pel to devotion, the best means of conso-
lation, a religious mind cannot do with-
out them. Thus trouble compels me
to prayer, and prayer drives away
trouble.”
(h) EXAMPLE OF MASON.—It
is a fact which deserves the attention of
all, that many of the most eminent men
of the world have left behind them the
most decisive testimony to the importance
and value of true religion. Sir John
Mason, who had been a privy counsel-
lor to four successive monarchs, and
was connected with the most important
transactions of the state for thirty years,

—I_-\u__'.—-1 0
in the evening of his life declared,
“Were I to live again, I would ex-
change the court for retirement, and
the whole lifel have lived in the pal-
ace for one hour’s enjoyment of God in
my closet. All things now forsake me,
except my God, my duty, and my
prayers. ’ ’
It is said further of tnis eminent man,
that at the close of life 1"e observed,
that the result of his ‘os.rvation and
experience might be comprised in three
short sentences :—-Seriousness is the
greatest wisdom ; temperance the best
physio; and a good conscience the best
estate.”
(c) PHILIP I-IENRY’S PRAC.
TICE-—-In the life of Philip Henry, it
is said, “He and his wife constantly
prayed together, morning and evening.”
He made conscience of closet worship,
and abounded in it. It was the caution
and advice which he frequently gave to
his children and friends, “ Be sure you
look to your secret duty ; keep that up,
whatever you do ; the soul cannot pros-
per in the neglect of it. Apostacy
enerally begins at the closet door.”
(d) GRlMSTONE’S HABIT.—-Sir
Harbottle Grimstone, master of the
rolls, an eminent lawyer, a just judge,
and a person of large fortune, who
lived in the 17th century, was a very
pious and devout man, and spent, every
morning and evening, at least an hour
in meditation and prayer. And even
in winter, when he was obliged to be
very early on the bench, he took care
to rise soon enough to have the time he
usually devoted to these exercises.
(e) THE THREE METHODS.—-
The celebrated Haydn was in company
with some distinguished persons. The
‘conversation turned on the best means
of restoring their mental energies, when
exhausted with long and diflicult stud-
ies. One said, he had recourse in such
a case, to a bottle of winc—another
that he went into company. Haydn
being asked what he would do, or did
do, said that he retired to his closet
and engaged in prayer—that nothing
exerted on his mind a more happy
and efficacious influence than prayer.
Haydn was no enthusiast.
624
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER.
327
PAYING FOR PRAYING.-—
An aged burgomaster, traveling to Ger-
many, stopped at an inn on the borders
of that country and Holland. He ob-
served that the servant girl who laid the
cloth, and made other preparations for
his supper, performed these offices neat-
ly and with much alacrity, and he com-
mended her, saying. also, “ I trust that,
while you show yourself so careful in
the performance of the common duties
of your station, you are not less diligent
in observing the duties and privileges
of a Christian.” The girl, who was
quite ignorant of religion, replied by
asking what he meant; upon which he
entered more particularly into an ex-
planation of his meaning, dwelling es-
pecially on the importance of prayer, as
he found that she lived in entire neglect
of it. Her countenance and manner
indicated a strict adherence to truth,
and he told her that if, when he again
passed through the place, she could as-
sure him that she had knelt down every
night and morning, and uttered a short
prayer, he would give her aten-guilder
piece, (a gold coin, value 168. 8d.) Af-
ter some hesitation the girl agreed, and
asked what the prayer was, the repeti-
tion of which was to procure her a lar-
ger sum than she had ever before pos-
sessed at one time. The burgomaster
told her, “Lord Jesus, convert my
soul.” At first, the girl hesitated, and
sometimes thought that she might omit
the repetition of these words, the full
meaning of which she did not under-
stand. A better feeling, however, in-
duced her to continue, and also to in-
quire the meaning of these words.
About six months afterwards, the old
gentleman returned ; he went to the
same inn ; another girl laid his supper
cloth; he inquired for her predecessor
in vain. He then asked for the land-
lord, who told him that five months
back the girl alluded to had been seiz-
ed with such a praying fit, that he
found she would no longer do for his
service, and that she was then living
with a private family in the neighbor-
hood. In the morning the old gentle-
man sought for and tbund her; and
said he was come to fulfil his promise.
She immefiiately recognized him, but

decidedly refused his offered money,
saying, “ I have found a reward much
richer than any sum of golt .”
(g) A SECRET OF SUCCESS.-~
Edward Lee, of Manchester, Massa-
chusetts, Was for several years a sailor,
and apparently hardened in sin, but he
became converted, and then all his
energies were devoted to the service of
Jesus Christ. Quitting the sea for the
sake of being more useful, he took up
his residence in his native village; and
the time which could be spared from
his labors on the farm, be employed in
behalf of God’s glory, and ‘he salva-
tion of souls. For thirty years he kept
up a weekly prayer-meeting every
Thursday afternoon in his own house.
It was his rule to visit all the families
in the village once in a year, to in.
quire after their spiritual welfare. The
houses of affliction and sorrow were
always sure of his visits and his prayers.
In his own house, in the field, and on
his journeys, wherever he could warn
and plead with the impenitent, he was
sure to do so. One night, putting up
at an inn where a country ball had
commenced, he get permission to enter
the room, and addressed the company
with such moral power and energy,
that dancing was abandoned, and the
evening, begun in mirth and folly, was
spent in holy exhortation, and closed
with prayer.
Mr. Lee gave away one eighth of
his income, yet left enough to support
his widow for thirty’ years after his
death. VVonderful example of piety!
What was the secret of his high at-
tainments’.Z He was a man of prayer!
A few days before he died, he pointed
his Christian friends to a spot on the
floor, and observed that for more tnan
thirty years, with the exception of ten
days’ illness, he had risen from his bed
at night, and prayed for a dying worlds
salvation. His niinister used to say,
“I am but a babe to brother Lee: I
prize his prayers more than gold.”
(It) A SHEEPCOT FOR A
CLOSET.--Dr. Milne. a laborious and
useful Missionary in China, in his ear-
ly years attended a Sabbath evening
school, which was taught in the neigh-
borhood of his residence. Here his
625
327
PRAYER.
knowledge of e\ angelical truth increas-
ed, and considerable impressions of its
importance were made upon his mind.
Sometimes he used to walk home from
the school alone, about a mile over the
brow of a hill, praying all the way. At
this time he began the worship of God
in his mother’s family; and also held
some meetings for prayer, with his sis-
ters and other children, in a barn that
belonged to the premises.
VVhen removed from the immediate
care of his mother, the providence of
God placed him near to the spot where
one of those persons lived, who, though
poor in this world, are rich in faith,
and heirs of the kingdom. He used
sometimes to go to his house, at the hour
of prayer, when he and his family bow-
ed the knee and worshiped God, at the
foot of their domestic altar. After
reading a chapter in the Bible, he was
accustomed to make some remarks upon
it, both for the instruction of his chil-
dren, and as a preparation for the sol-
emn exercise of prayer ; these remarks
interested young Milne very much, and
showed him a beauty in the word of
God, which he never saw before. From
this time, more particularly, he began
to discover an excellence in religion,
which led him to choose it as the only
object deserving the supreme attention
of an immortal creature. As the family
in which he lived were strangers to re-
ligion themselves, and derided all others
who made it their concern, he was very
unpleasantly situated. The only place
he found for retirement, where he could
be quiet and unnoticed, was a sheepcot
in which the sheep were kept in winter.
Here, surrounded with his fleecy com-
panions, he often bowed the knee on a
piece of turf, which he carried with
him for the purpose. Many hours did
he spend there, in the winter evenings,
with a pleasure to which before he was
a stranger; and, while some of the
members of the family were plotting
how to put him to shame,he was eating
in secret of that bread “ which the world
knoweth not of.”
(i) SANCTUARY IN THE
GROVE-—A correspondent of the N.
Y. Evangelist remarks: VVhile it is a

subject of regret, that many professors
of religion are so conformed to the
world, as exceedingly to limit their use-
fulness, it is very refreshing to the spir
its of holy ones, to meet with here and
there a disciple living above the world,
and at the same time shedding a holy
influence on all around. Of this latter
and better sort of Christians, I knew a
man who departed this life at the ad-
vanced age of 94 years. His whole
business, whilel knew him, and as I have
been told for about 80 of the last years of
his life,‘had been to serve God and en-
large the kingdom of Christ on earth,
His conversation was spiritual beyond
that of any other man I ever knew. It
was exceedingly diflicult to interest him
in any other subject than that of religion.
The cause of his high spiritual attain-
ments consisted in the fact, that he was
more than any other person of my
knowledge, a man of prayer.
On the day of his burial, when many
friends were assembled to commit his
remains to the tomb, the subject of his
spirituality and holy living, became a
topic of conversation. Said one, who
was more intimately acquainted with
the deceased than the rest, if you will
take a short walk, Iwill let you into the
great secret of our departed friend’s ho-
ly life, and triumphant death. To this
proposition a number of the relatives
conceded. They were conducted along
a narrow beaten footpath into a grove
some fifty rods from the house. This
grove was the chosen place for many
years of this holy man for prayer and
meditation. Soon after entering the
grove, they came to -the devoted spot,
the sanctuary where the holy man had
carried on his intercourse with the up-
per world. The very impress of his
knees, as he bowed before the Mighty
One of Israel, was distinctly visible.
He supported himself in this attitude by
two saplings, one on either side, which,
by long and frequent use were worn
smooth like polished steel. The place
was often afterwards visited by the eu-
rious, and was ever regarded as one of
the best mementoes of the worth of this
departed saint. This footpath and the
prints of the knees and hands were visi-
626
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER.
327, 328

ble for some two or three years after
the good man entered his rest; but are
now overgrown and forgotten.
PRAYER OF THE CON.
DEMNED SOLDIER.—During the
unhappy commotions in Ireland, a pri-
vate soldier in the army of Lord Corn-
wallis, was daily observed to be absent
from his quarters and from the compa-
ny of his fellow-soldiers. He began to
be suspected of withdrawing himself
for the purpose of holding intercourse
with the rebels ; and on this suspicion,
probably increased by the malice of his
wicked comrades, he was tried by a
court-martial, and condemned to die.
The Marquis hearing of this, wished to
examine the minutes of the trial ; and
not being satisfied, sent for the man to
converse with him. Upon being interro-
gated, the prisoner solemnly disavowed
every treasonable practice or intention,
declared his sincere attachment to his
Sovereign, and his readiness to live and
die in his service :—he afi'irmed that the
real cause of his frequent absence was,
that he might obtain a place of retirement
for the purpose of private prayer; for
which his Lordship knew he had no op-
portunity among his profane comrades,
who had become his enemies merely on
account of his profession of religion.
He said, he had made this defence on
his trial ; but the officers thought it so
improbable, that they paid no attention
to it. The Marquis, in order to satisfy
himself as to the truth of his defence,
observed that if so, he must acquire
some considerable aptness in this exer-
cise. The poor man replied, that as to
ability, he had nothing to boast of. The
Marquis then insisted on his kneeling
down and praying aloud before him ;
which he did,-——and pouring forth his
soul before God with such copiousness,
fluency, and ardor, that the Marquis
took him by the hand, and said, he was
satisfied that no man could pray in that
manner who did not live in the habit of
intercourse wtth his God. He not only
revoked the sentence, but received him
into his peculiar favor, placing him
among his personal attendants.

328. Family Prayer.
(a) FAMILY PRAYER ESTAB-
LISHED BY A CHILD.-—The Rev.
John Baily, an eminent divine of the
17th century, was so honored of God
as to be made the instrument of the
conversion of his own father, while he
was yet a child. His mother was a
very pious woman, but his father was
a wicked man. The good instructions
and frequent prayers of the former,
were so blessed to the soul of little
John, that he was converted to God
while very young: and having a re-
markable gift in prayer, his mother
wished him to pray in the family.
His father, overhearing him engaged
in this exercise, was so struck with
remorse and shame at finding his
child, then not above eleven or twelve
years of age, performing that duty in
his house, which he had neglected him-
self, that it brought on a deep convic-
tion of his wretched state, and proved,
through the Divine blessing, the means
of his conversion.
(b) AN INFIDEL CONVERTED.
-—-Mr. Abbott states, in his “ MOTHER
AT HOME,” that a gentleman from Eng-
land brought a letter of introduction to
a gentleman in America. The stran-
ger was of accomplished mind and man-
ners, but an infidel. The gentleman to
whom he had brought letters of intro-
duction, and his lady, were active
Christian philanthropists. They invited
the stranger to make their house his
home, and treated him with every pos-
sible attention. Upon the evening of
his arrival, just before the usual hour
for retiring, the gentleman, knowing
the peculiarity of his friend’s sentiments,
observed to him, that the hour had ar-
rived in which they usually attended
family prayers; that he should be
happy to have him remain and unite
with them, or, if he preferred, he could
retire. The gentleman intimated that
it would give him pleasure to remain.
A chapter of the Bible was read, and
the family all knelt in prayer, the stran-
ger with the rest. In a few days the
stranger left this hospitable dwelling,
and embarked on board a ship for a
foreign land. In the course of three
627
328
PRAYER.
or four years. however, the providence
of God again led that stranger to the
same dwelling. But oh, how changed!
He came the happy Christian, the hum-
ble man of piety and prayer. In the
course of the evening’s conversation he
remarked, that when he, on the first
evening of his previous visit, knelt
with them in family prayer, it was the
first time for many years that he had
bowed the knee to his Maker. This
act brought to his mind such a crowd
of recollections, it so vividly reminded
him of a parent’s prayers, which he
had heard at home, that he was entire-
ly bewildered. His emotion was so
great, that he did not hear one syllable
of the prayer which was uttered, from
its commencement to its close. But
God made this the instrument of lead-
ing him from the dreary wilds of infi-
delity to the peace and the joy of piety.
His parents had long before gone home
to their eternal rest; but the prayers
they had offered for and with their son,
had left an influence which could not
die. They might have prayed ever so
fervently for him, but if they had not
prayed with him, if they had not knelt
by his side, and caused his listening ear
to hear their earnest supplications, their
child might have continued through
life an infidel.
(0) FAMILY I/VORSHIP IN CEY-
LON .——At the annual meeting of the
British and Foreign Bible Society, in
1826, the Rev. W. B. Fox, a Missiona-
ry from Ceylon, said, that as he was
traveling in a jungle, in the dead of the
night, which is the usual time for jour-
neying, he heard a voice reading. He
drew near to the cottage, and found
that the party was reading the word of
God. He put aside the leaves, of which
the cottage was composed, and saw the
whole group, consisting of three or four
generations, sitting on the ground, while
a youth was reading the 14th of St.
John. He waited in silence, to see the
result: and, at the conclusion, the boy
began to invoke the Divine blessing on
what he had read ; and one of the peti-
tions it as very remarkable: he prayed
that God would make larger the ears
of his grandmctlmr. Mr. F. supposed,
from this circumstance, that his poor

relative was so deaf that she could not
hear these truths which he admi1 ed
l..'mself. He added, that these instan-
ces were formerly rare, but they were
now spreading over the whole land ;
and though he was no prophet, yet he
would venture to predict, that nothing
like half a century would pass, ere it
would be said, that there were no hea-
then temples, and no idols remaining in
Ceylon.
(d) LOSS OF FAMILY PRAYER.
—-A young lady, the child of pious
parents, had arrived at the years of
maturity apparently without having any
salutary impression made on her mind,
either by the instructions she had re-
ceived, or the examples she had wit-
nessed. In this state of mind she
received the addresses of a gentleman
destitute of religion, and who, probably,
had not possessed her early advantages.
He was moral, respectable, and honor-
able in social life, and had no idea that
any thing more was necessary. In due
time they were married.
The worth of any blessing is often
best taught by its loss. The very first
day of her residence in the house of her
husband, the young lady was struck
with horror and distress at the omission
of family prayers ; and that the family
separated at night, and met in the
morning, and no Bible was called for;
no expressions of gratitude offered for
protection and refreshment through the
night ; no supplication for provision,
direction, and support through the day.
She felt desolate and uncomfortable ;
and that which she had so long disre-
garded in the house of her father, seem-
ed now absolutely essential to her com-
fort. The deficiency was the means of
awakening in her mind deep and serious
convictions of her sin, in having failed
to improve the privileges with which she
had so long been favored. She was led
to tremble at her awful state of guilt and
danger as a sinner before God ; she
humbly and earnestly sought mercy
through the blood of the cross, and found
joy and peace in believing. Now, the
instructions and admonitions of her
pious parents, which had so long seemed
to be like good seed rotting beneath the
clod, began to spring uo and yield fruit.
628
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER.
325
She said, “ The God of my parents
shall be my God;” and she gave her-
self up to him in a covenant never to
be forgotten! She could not now be
insensible to the best interests of her
husband and familv ; these became
matter of deep solicitude and fervent
prayer. I-Ier pious endeavors were
blessed: her husband was awakened to
discern the things that belonged to his
everlasting peace, and was made a par-
taker of the grace of God in truth.
Their household was soon numbered
among those in whose tabernacles is
heard the voice of rejoicing and salva-
tion. They became eminently pious,
exemplary, and useful characters, and
trained up their children in the nurture
and admonition of the Lord.
(e) FAMILY PRAYER ABAN-
DONED AND RESUMED.-—A pious
tradesman, conversing with a minister
on family worship, related the following
instructive circumstances respecting
himself:
When I first began business for my-
self, Iwas determined, through grace,
to be particularly conscientious with
respect to family prayer. Accordingly,
I persevered for many years in the de-
lightful practice of domestic worship.
Morning and evening, every individual
of my family was ordered to be present;
nor would I allow my apprentices to be
absent on any account. In a few years,
the advantages of these engagements
manifestly appeared; the blessings of
the upper and nether springs followed
me; health and happiness attended my
family, and prosperity my business. At
length, such was the rapid increase of
trade, and the importance of devoting
every possible moment to my customers,
that I began to think whether family
prayer did not occupy too much of our
time in the morning. Pious scruples
arose respecting my intentions of relin-
quishing this part of my duty; but, at
length, worldly interests prevailed so far
as to induce me to excuse the attendance
of my apprentices, and, not long after,
it was deemed advisable, for the more
eager prosecution of business, to make
the prayer with my wife, when we rose
in the morning, suffice for the day.
Notwithstanding the repeated checks

of conscience that followed this base
omission, the calls of a flourishing con-
cern, and the prospect of an increasing
family, appeared so imperious and com-
manding, that I found an easy excuse
for this fatal evil, especially as I did
not omit prayer altogether. My con-
science was now almost seared with :1
hot iron; when it pleased the Lord to
awaken me by a singular providence.
One day I received a letter from a
young man who had formerly been my
apprentice, previous to my omitting
family prayer. Not doubting but I
continued domestic worship, his letter
was chiefly on this subject; it was
couched in the most affectionate and
respectful terms: but judge of my sur-
prise and confusion, when I read these
words: “O, my dear master, never,
never shall I be able sufliciently 1
thank you for the precious privilege
with which you indulged me in your
family devotions! O, sir, eternity will
be too short to praise my God for what
I learned there. It was there I first
beheld my lost and wretched state as a
sinner; it was there that l first knew
the way of salvation ; and there that I
first experienced the preciousness of
‘Christ in me, the hope of glory.’ O,
sir, permit me to say, never, never neg-
lect those precious engagements: you
have yet a family, and more apprentices,
may your house he the birthplace of
their souls!” I could read no further;
every line flashed condemnation in my
face. I trembled, I shuddered, I was
alarmed lest the blood of my children
and apprentices should be demanded at
my soul-murdering hands.
Filled with confusion, and bathed in
tears, I fled for refuge in secret. I
spread the letter before God. I agon-
ized, and—-but you can better conceive
than I can describe my feelings; suflice
it to say, that light broke in upon my
disconsolate soul, and a sense of blood-
bought pardon was obtained. I imme-
diately flew to my family, presented
them before the Lord, and from that
day to the present I have been faithful,
and am determined, through grace, that
whenever my business becomes so large
as to interrupt family prayer, I will give
up the superfluous part of my business,
629
828
‘PRAYER.
and retain my devotion: better to lose
a few shillings, than become the deli-
berate murderer of my family, and the
instrument of ruin to my own soul.
RYLAND AND THE IN-
KEEPER’S FAMILY.—-The Rev.
John Ryland, of Northampton, being on
a journey, was overtaken by a violent
storm, and compelled to take shelter in
the first inn he came to. The people
of the house treated him with great
kindness and hospitality. They would
fain have showed him into the par-
lor, but being very wet and cold, he
begged permission rather to take a seat
by the fireside with the family. The
good old man was friendly, cheerful,
and well stored with entertaining anec-
dotes, and the family did their utmost
to make him comfortable : they all sup-
ped together, and both the residents and
the guest seemed mutually pleased with
each other. At length, when the house
was cleared, and the hour of rest ap-
proached, the stranger appeared uneasy,
and looked up every time a door opened,
as if expecting the appearance of some-
thing essential to his comfort. His host
informed him, that his chamber was
prepared whenever he chose to retire.
“But,” said he, “you have not had
your family together.” “Had my fa-
mily together! ‘for what purpose? I
don’t know what you mean;” said the
landlord. “ To read the Scriptures,
and to pray with them,” replied the
guest: “ surely you do not retire to rest
in the omission of so necessary a duty.”
The landlord confessed that he had
never thought of doing such a thing.
“Then, sir,” said Mr. R., “I must beg
you to order my horse immediately.”
The landlord and family entreated him
not to expose hintself to the inclemency
of the weather at that late hour of the
night ; observing, that the storm was as
violent as when he first came in.
“May be so,” replied Mr. R., “but I
had rather brave the storm than venture
to sleep in a house where there is no
prayer. I/Vho can tell what may befall
us before morning’.Z No, sir, I dare
not stay.” The landlord still remon-
strated, and expressing great regret
that he should offend so agreeable a

gentleman, at last said, he should have
no objection to “call his family to-
gether,” but he should not know what
to do when they came. Mr. R. then
proposed to conduct family worship, to
which all readily consented. The fa-
mily was immediately assembled, and
then Mr. R. called for a Bible ; but no
such book could be produced. However,
he was enabled to supply the deficiency,
as he always carried a small Bible or
Testament in his pocket. He read a
portion of Scripture, and then prayed
with much fervor and solemnity, espe-
cially acknowledging the preserving
goodness of God, that none present had
been struck dead by the storm, and im-
ploring protection through the night.
He earnestly prayed that the attention
of all might be awakened to the things
belonging to their everlasting peace,
and that the family might never again
meet in the morning, or separate at
night, without prayer. When he rose
from his knees, almost every individual
present was bathed in tears, and the in-
quiry was awakened in several hearts
—“ Sir, what must we do to be saved ?”
Much interesting and profitable conver-
sation ensued. The following morning,
Mr. R. again conducted family worship,
and obtained from the landlord a pro-
mise, that however feebly performed, it
should not in future be omitted. This
day was indeed the beginning of days to
that family; most, if not all of them,
became decided and devoted followers
of the Lord Jesus Christ, and were the
means of diffusing a knowledge of the
gospel in a neighborhood which had be-
fore been proverbially dark and destitute.
(g) GOOD EXAMPLE OF A MAY _
OR.-——Sir Thomas Abney was the be-
loved friend of the celebrated Dr.
Watts, who found in his house an
asylum for more than thirty-six years.
This knight was not more distinguished
by his hospitality than his piety. Nei-
ther business nor pleasure interrupted
his observance of public and domestic
worship. Of this a remarkable instance
is recorded: upon the evening of the
day that he entered on his office as lord
mayor of London, without any notice,
he withdrew from the public assemblv
630
OCCASIONS

-4-
OF PRAYER. 328

-v -0- I
at Guildhall after supper, went to his
house, there performed family worship,
and then returned to the company.
(it) IIOWARD’S PRACTICE.-—
Mr. Howard, the philanthropist, neyer
neglected the duty of family prayer,
even though there was but one, and that
one his domestic, to join in it; always
declaring, that where he had a tent,
God should have an altar. This was
the case. not only in England, but in
every part of Europe which they visited
together, it being the invariable practice,
wherever, and with whomsoever he
might be, to tell Tomasson to come to
him at a certain hour, at which, well
knowing what the direction meant, he
would be sure to find him in his room,
the doors of which he would order him
to fasten ; when, let who would come,
nobody was admitted till this devotional
exercise was over. “Very few,” says
the humble narrator, “ knew the good-
ness of this man’s heart.”
(i) THE DISCOURAGED FA-
THER.—The Rev. A. D. Merrill states
that there was once a pious father
with seven children, who had maintain-
ed the worship of God in his family,
until all his children had grown up to
manhood, and womanhood, and not one
of them had been as yet converted to
God. At last the old man’s faith began
to fail‘, in relation to the promise ; and
growing “ weary and faint in his mind,”
he resolved to give up his family wor-
ship, and confine his devotions to the
closet, and to leave his children to do
as they pleased. But before he finally
proceeded to do this, he concluded to
call his children together once again, to
pray with them, and explain to them
his reasons for this course. Being as-
sembled, and taking up the “ old family
Bible,” from which he had so often
read to them “the /vords of eternal
life,” he thus addressed them :—-“ My
children, you know that from your
earliest recollection I have been accus-
tomed to call you together around this
altar, for family worship. I have en-
deavored to instruct you in the ways of
the Lord, and to imbue your minds with
the truth. But you have all grown up,
and not one of you is converted to God.
You are yet in your sins, and show no
signs of penitence. I feel discouraged,
and have concluded to ‘make no further
efforts for your salvation—-to demolish
my family altar——to confine my own de-
votions to my closet, and thus to en-
deavor still to work out my own salva-
tion, while I leave you to yourselves."
Upon his speaking thus, first one and
then another fell upon their knees, until
they were all bowed before God, and
besought him, that he would not do as
he had resolved, but, hat he would still
continue to pray for them, and that he
would do it now; for they were now
ready to give their hearts to God. He
bowed with them. The Spirit descended
according to the promise, and before they
rose from their knees, they were all
made happy in God. One of their
number who was married, and away from
home, upon returning on a visit, and
hearing what great things the Lord had
done for the rest of the family, likewise
immediately submitted to God, and thus
were they all saved, and the covenant
promise fulfilled.
FAMILY PRAYER BY TWO
DAUGHTERS.—-—A gentleman resid-
ing in the western part of the state of
N ew-York, had sent two of his daughters
to Litchfield, to be educated. While
they were there, God was pleased to
bless the place with a revival of religion.
The news of it reached the ears of their
father. He was much troubled for his
daughters, “apprehensive,” to use his
own words, “ lest their minds should be
aifected, and they be frightened into re-
ligion.”
Alive, as he thought, to their happi-
ness, and determined to allay their fears,
and quiet their distresses, he sent a
friend to Litchfield, with positive orders
to bring them immediately home, that
they might not be lost to all happiness
and hope, and consigned to gloom and
despondency.
The messenger departed on this er-
rand. But they had already chosen
Christ for their portion, and had resolved
that, whatever others might do, they
would serve the Lord.
They returned to their father's, not
overwhelmed, as he expected, with
gloom and despondency, but with hearts

kglowing with grgtitiude to God, and
0
828
PRAYER.
_-_-_-
..
countenances beaming with serenity
and hope. Indeed, they rejoiced in the
Savior.
Soon after their return home, they
were anxious to establish family wor-
ship. They affectionately requested
their father to commence that duty. He
replied, that he saw no use in it. He
had lived very well more than fifty
years without prayer, and he could not
be burdened with it now. They then
asked permission to pray with the fa-
mily themselves. Not thinking they
would have confidence to do it, he as-
sented to the proposition.
The duties of the day being ended,
and the hour for retiring to rest having
arrived, the sisters drew forward to the
stand, placed on it the Bible ; one read
a chapter—they both kneeled——the other
engaged in prayer. The father stood,
and while the humble fervent prayer of
his daughter was ascending to heaven,
his knees began to tremble ; he also
kneeled, and then became prostrate on
the floor. God heard their prayer,
and directed their father’s weeping eyes,
which had never shed tears of penitence
before, to the Lamb of God, who taketh
away the sin of the world.
Happy family! a believing father,
and believing children! whose God is
the Lord!
(Is) “SIR, WHO HAVE YOU
BEEN TALKING VVITH '5”-—There
lived in the town of in Vt. (says a
correspondent of the Christian Mirror,) a
man who had a large family of children.
He was poor; and unable to keep them
at home, he put some of them away
from home to live. It was the favored
lot of a little girl, Ithink, about eight
years of age, to fall into a family, where
daily prayers were offered up to Al-
mighty God. Prayer she was unac-
quainted with. The subject was new
to her. At home she never heard a
prayer. An astonishment seized her,
when she saw her master, night and
morning, standing in one corner of the
room, talking, as she termed it, with
something that she could not see. An
anxiety swelled in her little bosom to
know who it could be. Unwilling to
ask any one of the family with whom

the lived, yet solicitous to know, she.
__ __- -_ _--

obtained leave to go home. She had
hardly reached the lonely cottage, be-
fore she asked her mother who it was
that her master talked with, when stand-
ing in the corner of the room night and
morning. She told her that she did not
know, being herself a heathen though
in a Christian land. N ot satisfied, she
asked her father, who answered in a
thoughtless and inhuman manner, “The
devil I suppose.” The little inquisitive
child returned uninformed to her mas-
ter, where she witnessed the same
promptitude and holy ardor as before.
Not many days had elapsed, before she
summoned fortitude enough to put the
question.
One morning, after her master had
been talking with the unknown being,
she stepped up before him, and said,
“ Sir, who have you been talking with
this morning?” The question was so
unexpected, and from such a source,
that at first he felt unable to answer
her ; and was unusually impressed with
the importance of the duty of prayer,
and the weight of obligation resting up-
on him to approach God aright. But
after recollecting himself a little, he
said, and that with reverence, “ I have
been trying to talk with God.” “ God !”
said she with astonishment, “ where is
he’.2 where does he live ?” &c. Many
questions of a similar nature she pu1
with much interest and feeling to which
her master gave her such answers as
were calculated to awaken the liveliest
feelings of her mind, in regard to Je-
hovah. After she had learned all her
little mind could contain of divine things,
she desired to go home and see her pa-
rents, with an earnestness that could not
be resisted. Go she must; leave was
granted ; she went home to her father's
cottage, a place where prayer was not
wont to be made, with her little bosom
heating with a high tone of pious feel-
ing in view of the importance of prayer.
She went to her father, and said, “Fa-
ther, pray.” She urged with warmth
a compliance; but he utterly refused.
She then went to her mother and ask.
ed her to pray; but with no better
success. She could not endure it any
longer; her feelings must vent them.
selves in words. She said, let us pray.
632
OCCASION S
or PRAYER. 328

She knelt down and prayed, and it ap-
pears to me, that scripture was fulfilled.
“The effectual fervent prayer of the
righteous availeth much.” In an-
swer to her prayer, both of her pa-
rents were brought under conviction,
which terminated in hopeful conversion
to God. And this was the beginning
of an extensive revival of religion.
(Z) SELF-CONVICTED COM-
MITTEE.--In a certain church, there
were four brethren, heads of families,
who were generally known to neglect
the important social Christian duty of
Family Prayer. The subject being in-
troduced at a church meeting, it was
proposed to appoint a committee to wait
upon two of these brethren, and labor
with them on this subject. When the
committee was nominated, who should
be named, but the two other brethren
who were known by many to be guilty
of the same neglect. They tried to
shift off the appointment and excuse
themselves, without, however, stating
the true reason of their reluctance ; but
it was all in vain, the vote was put, and
these two were appointed the committee.
They were now in rather an awkward sit-
uation—-pretty sort of persons, thought
they, to be appointed to labor with others
for the neglect of family prayer, when
we are guilty of the same ourselves.
The result, however was good. The
two brethren got together to talk the
matter over, and concluded that they
could not very well converse with the
others, till they had reformed them-
selves. After conversing together, and
reflecting alone, they were each con-
victed of the guilt of their criminal ne-
glect. They assembled their families,
confessed to them their guilt, re-estab-
lished at once the family altar, and the
Lord came down and blessed their souls.
They were then ready to go and con-
verse with the other two delinquents;
they told them how they had been equal-
ly guilty, how they had repented of
their sinful neglect, and how the Lord
had blessed them and their families in
erecting afresh the broken down family
altar. and entreated them to do the
same. The consequence was, that fa-
mily prayer was immediately re-estab-
ished in these families also, and at the
next church meeting, the committee re-
ported with tears in their eyes, that they
had been successful in reclaiming not
only their brethren, but also themselves,
from the guilt and the inconsistency of
those professedly Christian heads of fa-
milies who call not upon the name of
the Lord.
(m) THE SON’S ADMONITION.
—-My father, says Prof. B., was one of
those still men who, much as he thought
of company, carried on his part of con-
versation in brief questions and mon-
osyllabic answers. He had deceived
himself into the belief that his talents
were not such as to make it his duty to
conduct family worship. With this
view, he had lived for more than forty
years, in every other respect a consis-
tent Christian. A son, who, at the time
referred to, was preparing for the min-
istry, and already licensed to preach,
was spending a vacation at home—-the
last evening of his stay had arrived——-
the family Bible, as usual, is placed be-
fore him on the stand, with a request
to lead in prayer. The thought oc-
curmd, that now for a year or more,
whatever devotion might be felt, no
voice of prayer could be heard in the
family, except from the lips of strangers
who should turn in for the night. The
thought affected him, and endeavoring
to use such a manner as would become
him in addressing a father almost three-
score years and ten, he said——-“ Father,
I delight to lead in this exercise when
at home, but I am affected with the
thought that there is to be no more
prayer here, until Ishall return. How
is it that you have never established
family prayer? I know the difiidence
of your nature——I know that it would
be hard to overcome it——but would it
not have been attended with satisfaction
to yourself, and a blessing to the family
worth a far greater sacrifice '2 You can
ask a favor of a neighbor—to do the
same thing with God, is prayer: and
he greatly mistakes, who thinks that
the best prayer is that clothed in the
most fluent language.” The old man
was afi'ected--said he knew that it was
so--and then gave an account of his
feelings and practice in this respect
since the commencement of his Christian

633
ses, a .-
PRAYER.
course. Tears glistened in the eyes of
some unaccustomed to weep for sin, and »
the father’s expression gave encourage-
ment to hope that the suggestion would
not be in vain, and that an altar would
still be erected, whence incense and a
pure offering should daily rise to Hea-
ven. On the day following, before
leaving, the son mentioned the scene of
the previous evening to the minister of
the place, who took an opportunity to
add his influence to what had been said,
and it proved effectual. The man
whose voice, though for forty years a
professed Christian and a father, had
never been heard in prayer by his chil-
dren, at the age of threescore years and
ten, commences the discharge of that
duty in his family, and so far as I know
never ceases until the infirmities of age
render it impossible. His children,
ten in number, who had not before,
have since professed the religion of
Christ, though I cannot say how much
the father’s prayers had to do with this
result.
(n) FAMILY WORSHIP ESTA-
BLISHED BY A CHILD.—-A boy,
about fourteen years of age, who had
learned, at one of the schools belonging
to the Gaelic Society, the value of his
own soul, was deeply impressed with
the importance of family religion. As
none of the family could read but him-
self, he intimated his intention of esta-
blishing family worship. No answer
was made, no opposition started, and as
little encouragement given. Still he
made the attempt. He read the Scrip-
tures, and prayed for himself, and for
all present. The rest of the family
looked on. Alone he continued to wor-
ship God in this manner for some time,
the others being merely spectators ; but
at length, one after another sunk town
)n their knees beside him, unt I the
whole domestic circle united in the hal-
lowed exercise ; the gray-headed father
kneelmg down beside his child, and
joining in his artless aspirations to God
the Father of all.
(0) A FAMILY CONVERTED.——
A man in the western country removed
into a new town and took the first mea-
sures to establish religious meetings.
The Lord blessed his exertions; a church

was formed of which he was chosen
deacon, and a minister was settled
His family grew up around him, but
none of his children were converted,
and he felt great anxiety lest family
prayer should cease after he should be
removed. He lived to be upwards of
seventy years old, and all the time his
constant prayer was, that God would
have mercy on his children and not
suffer the lamp of piety to go out in his
house. One of the sons moved into the
family mansion to take care of the old
man, as his wife was dead. He still
kept up family prayer as usual,
never forgetting to pray for his son, that
he might be converted and take his
place at the family altar. A revival
commenced in the town and the minister
heard that there was something unusual
at the old family mansion. He ’called
to see them ; in one room he beheld six
or seven persons weeping, distressed for
their sins, and the old man kneeling in
one corner with his eyes and hands
lifted up to heaven, crying to God to
have mercy on his children. The minis-
ter attempted to address them, but found
every thing he attempted to say far he-
neath the subject. God was there doing
his own work——-to this God he kneeled
and prayed and then left them. The
result was that the son, and several of
his children were converted, and the
good old man could say with Simeon,
“ N ow Lord lettest thou thy servant de-
part in peace, for mine eyes have seen
thy salvation.’
899. Giving Thanks at Meals.
(a) DON’T LET US FORGET.—--
At Lebanon, in the state of New York,
there dwelt a certain man, about fifty
years of age, who had not only lived a
very careless life, but was an open op-
poser of the gospel plan of salvation,
and of the work of God in the late re-
vival of religion in that part of the
country ; he was, however, brought
under serious convictions in the follow-
ing manner :----One day there came into
his house atraveler with a burden on
his back ; the family being about to sit
down to dinner, the stranger was invited
to partake with them, which he accord-
634
OCCASIONS
OF PRAYER. 329, 330

ingly did. When the repast was fin-
ished, and the members of the family
were withdrawing from their seats, the
stranger said, “ Don’t let us forget to
give thanks to God.” He accordingly
gave thanks, and departed. The man
of the house felt reproved and con-
founded. The words of the stranger
were fastened on his mind by the power
of God. He was led to reflect on
his wickedness in being unmindful of
God, and in neglecting prayer and
thanksgiving; he was also led to re-
flect on his manifold sins, which soon
appeared to him a burden infinitely
greater than that which the traveler
bore. He found no relief until he
sought in that very way which he used
formerly to despise, through the peace-
speaking blood of the Lord Jesus
Christ.
(b) REBUKE ADMINISTERED.
-—Very salutary impressions have fre-
quently been produced upon the minds
of foreigners by the pious example of
the native converts. I was on one oc-
casion dining on board an English ship
of war with Queen Pomare, other
members of the royal family, and sev-
eral chiefs. A large table was pre-
pared on the quarter-deck. All being
seated, the plates were soon abun-
dantly supplied, but not one of the na-
tives attempted to eat. The captain
was greatly surprised at this, and said
to me, “Mr. Pritchard, I fear we have
not provided such food as the natives
like; Idon’t see one of them begin to
eat.” I replied, “ You could not have
provided any thing that the natives
would like better ; the reason why they
do not commence eating is simply this,
they are accustomed always to ask a
blessing.” Before I could say any
thing more, the captain evidently feel-
ing a little confused, said, “ I beg your
pardon, Mr. Pritchard: please to say
grace.” I immediately “ said grace,”
when the natives soon gave proof that
they liked the food, which had been
provi led. One of the officers from the
end If the table looked at the captain
very significantly, and said, “ VVe have
got t to-day I” And then addressing
him elf to me he said, “ Mr. Pritchard,
you we what agraceless set we are.”
I
All the gentlemen seemed to feel the
rebuke thus unintentionally given.
(0) THE KING OF TOOBOW.~
The king of the island of Toobow, one
of the Friendly Islands, avowed an at-
tachment to Christianity. In the early
part of 1823, he went on board aBritish
vessel, to pay a visit to the captam
and unconsciously conveyed a very for-
cible practical reproof to the party.
He sat down at the captain’s table to
partake of some refreshrmnt; though
food was placed before him, he made a
very observable pause ; and when ask-
ed why he did not begin, he replied that
he was waiting till a blessing had been
asked on their food. The reproof was
felt ; and the party were ashamed at
being rebuked by a man whose intel-
lectual attainments they considered far
inferior to their own. They rose, and
the king gave thanks previously to their
commencing the repast.
830. Social and Public Prayer.
ta) PRAYER MEETING ABAN
DON EI).——In former times, there was
a neighborhood some few miles from
Philadelphia, where the inhabitants did
not, it would seem, enjoy but seldom the
blessings of a gospel ministry. Still,
some of them were professors of reli-
gion, and for a long time they met to-
gether in a school-house in the capacity
of a conference and prayer meeting.
The spirit of religion, however, was so
low among them, that their meetings
were conducted with little interest and
attended by a scanty number. At
length, at the close of a lifeless service,
some one proposed that the meetings
thereafter should be abandoned. All
assented but an aged mother in Israel,
who, after a vain remonstrance, assured
them that the worship of God should be
kept up there, though she might have
to keep it up alone. On the ensuing
Sabbath she accordingly bent her soli.
tary steps to the deserted sanctuary.
She read a portion of Scripture, sang a
hymn, and knelt down to weep and pray
over the desolation of Zion. While en-
gaged in this exercise, two men happen-
ed to be strolling by, and overbearing

prayer, went in. WV hat was their sur-
635
330
PRAYER.
prise on entering, to find but a single
Christian present, where the}r expected
to find an assembly. They took their
seats and waited till she had got done.
As she rose fro1n her knees, seeing
strangers present, she asked them to
engage in prayer. They had probably
never prayed in their lives, and accord-
ingly, they peremptorily refused. Hav-
ing, therefore, we presume, addressed
them faithfully on the subject of religion,
she sung another hymn, and once more
addressed the throne of grace. At the
close of the services, she gave out an
appointment for a prayer meeting in the
same place on the ensuing Sabbath.
These men were not slack in publishing
their singular visit to the school-house,
or in circulating the notice of another
meeting which was to be held there the
next Lord’s day. When the time ar-
rived, some came from shame, perhaps,
and more from curiosity, and so the
school-house was filled! The Spirit of
the Lord now began to work ; Christians
confessed their lukewarmness and de-
voted themselves afresh to the service
of God; and sinners began to inquire,
“ What shall we do to be saved '2” In-
deed, there was a precious revival ; and
as the result, a church was constituted,
and remains as a monument of that
Christian woman’s faithfulness to this
day. One of the converts became a
minister of the gospel, and labored in
the western part of Pennsylvania, and
was, perhaps, instrumental in the con-
version of many souls. Despise not the
day of small things. Keep up the
prayer meetings.
(b) A PRAYER MEETING OF
FORTY YEARS.—Mr. W , of
, N. Y., (says the writer of a tract,)
was a plain man, a farmer, with a very
limited common-school education. But
he studied the Bible diligently, not to
theorize, but that he might know the
will of God, and do it. His piety was
consistent, humble, meek, benevolent,
active, uniform. He was acknowledged
by all to be an every-day Christian.
At a time when the church was small
and but two or three brethren lived in
his vicinity, he consulted his pastor and
established a neighborhood prayer meet-
ing, to be held on Sabbath evening in

__
the district school-house. In the circle
of attendance .here were sixteen or
eighteen families, in very few of which
the domestic altar had ever been erect-
ed. The meeting was commenced in
the year 1800. Mr. W led it for
twenty years, when, with a hope full of
immortality, and a faith which triumph-
ed over death, he entered his eternal
rest.
Others were raised up, who have also
gone to their reward. And after the
lapse of forty years, when but two of
the original heads of families yet live,
the prayer meeting, which no heat or
cold, no darkness or storm, breaks us,
is still sustained and cherished with
warm affection.
During the first year of the meeting,
several parents and a few youth were
brought publicly to profess Christ.-—
Then succeeded a long and severe trial
of faith and perseverance. For four-
teen years very few were added to the
church, and “the ways of Zion mourn-
ed.” Thoughtlessness and mirth pre-
vailed. Few came to the prayer meet-
ing, but it was never relinquished. Mr.
W—-- and one or two others, now in
heaven, were always at their post, to
pray and speak a word for the Redeem-
er, to warn sinners of the error of their
way, and beseech them to become re-
conciled to God.
During the fourteenth year of this
spiritual dearth, these individuals be-
ca1ne so deeply affected in view of the
condition of the impenitent, and so anx-
ious that “Zion might arise and shine,”
that after others had retired from the
school-house, they frequently remained
one, two, or three hours in prayer. In
the opening spring their hopes revived.
The meetings became full and solemn.
Their cries had reached heaven, anl
the Holy Spirit came down. One eve-
ning, a youth who had been deeply im-
pressed for several days, could no longer
suppress his feelings. He gave vent to
his burdened heart by a single expres
sion of warning to his companions, which
carried conviction to several other minds,
and from that hour a deep solemnity
pervaded the neighborhood, and resulted
in a glorious and powerful won: of
grace. The means, blessed of God,

Q
636
OCCASIONS OF PRAYER.
330

were personal conversation, family visit-
ing, and more frequent prayer meetings,
all conducted among themselves, with
rery little ministerial help.
The revival continued for two Years,
and spread not only through that con-
gregation, but into neighboring churches,
and hundreds renounced their sins and
consecrated themselves to God. In this
district nearly every family had now
erected a family altar, and nearly every
adult was rejoicing in hope of the glory
of God. Other seasons of refreshing
have been enjoyed, and eternity alone
can make known the number of souls
that nave been and will be converted in
answer to the prayers offered in that
school-room. Some whole households
down to the second and third genera-
tions, give evidence that they will be
united in the great family above. And
as another result, not less than ten men
have been raised up in these families to
preach the blessed gospel.
(0) THE AGED LADY AND THE
PRAYER MEETING.—A pious old
lady, (says the Religious Intelligencer,)
in a country town, has long been in the
habit of attending religious conference
meetings, for, like many others, she had
often found them refreshing. It hap-
pened, however, as in many other pla-
ces, religion had got to a low ebb—the
ways of Zion mourned because few
came to her solemn feasts—the love of
Christians had waxed cold—the wise
and the foolish were alike asleep, and
they gave up conference meetings en-
tirely. I am inclined to think, howev-
er, that it was because they gave up
these meetings and neglected other du-
ties, that they became so cold and stu-
pid; be that as it may, the old lady
could not bear to give them up; she
spoke to one and another of the breth-
ren to introduce them again; but with
one accord they replied, “ ‘We have
worn them quite out, nobody will at-
tend.” Not satisfied, the old lady said
she would gt , if nobody else went. Ac-
cordingly, th : next Wednesday evening
she took hr r hymn-book and walked
some distant e to the school-house where
the meetings used to be held—here she
prayed, ant‘ sung, and prayed. On her
way home she stopped at a neighbor’s

house to rest. “ Vvhere have you
been ?” said the neighbor. “ Why, I
have been to conference.” “ To con-
ference! I didn’t know there was one
-who was there Z” “O, God was
there, and I was there, and we have had
a good conference; and there is to be
another next Wednesday evening.”—-
Accordingly, next week the old lady
went as before; but what was her jay
and surprise to find the house was
crowded ; her pious zeal had admonish-
ed professors; Christians were awaken-
ed ; sinners were alarmed ; and verily,
God was there, and from that time has
been carrying on a glorious work of
grace in that place.
(d) DR. FRANKLIN’S PROPO.
SAL.-—While the important question of
the representation of the American
States in the senate was the subject of
debate, and the states were almost
equally divided upon it, Dr. Franklin
moved that prayers should be attended
in the convention every morning, and in
support of his motion, thus addressed
the president:
“ Mr. President: The small progress
we have made after four or five weeks
of close attendance and continual rea-
sonings with each other, our different
sentiments on almost every question,
several of the last producing as man;
noes as ayes, is, methinks,-a melancholy
proof of the imperfection of the human
understanding. VVe indeed seem to feel
our own want of political wisdom, since
we have been running all about in search
of it. \/V e have gone back to ancient
history for models of government, and
examined the different forms of repub-
lies, which, having been originally form-
ed with the seeds of their own dissolu-
tion, now no longer exist; and we have
viewed modern states all around Eu-
rope, but find none of their constitutions
suitable to our circumstances. '11 this
situation of this assembly, gropmg, as
it were, in the dark, to find political
truth, and scarcely able to distinguish it
when presented to us, how has it hap-
pened, sir, that we have not hitherto
once thought of humbly applying to the
Father of lights, to illuminate our un-
derstandings? In the beginning of .*he
contest with Great Britain, and when
637
330,331
PRAYER.
we were sensible of danger, we had
daily prayers in this room for Divine
protection. Our prayers, sir, were
heard, and they were graciously an-
swered. All of us who were engaged
in the struggle, must have observed fre-
quent instances of a superintending Pro-
violence in our favor. To that kind
Providence we owe this happy opportu-
nity of consulting in peace, on the means
of establishing our future national feli-
city. And have we now forgotten that
powerful Friend? or do we imagine we
no longer need his assistance? I have
lived, sir, a long time, and the longer I
live, the more convincing proofs I see
of this truth——that God governs in the
affairs of men. And if a sparrow can-
not fall to the ground without his no-
tice, is it probable that an empire can
rise without his aid’.Z We have been
assured, sir, in the sacred writings, that
‘except the Lord build the house, they
labor in vain that build it.’ I firmly
believe this; and I also believe, that
without this concurring aid, we shall
succeed in this political building no bet-
ter than the builders of Babel ; we shall
be divided by our little partial local in-
terests, our projects will be confounded,
and we ourselves shall become a re-
proach and a by-word to future ages.
And what is worse, mankind may here-
after, from this unfortunate instance,
despair of establishing governments by
human wisdom, and leave it to chance,
war, or conquest. I therefore beg leave
to move, that henceforth prayers, im-
ploring the assistance of Heaven, and
its blessings on our deliberations, be
held in this assembly every morning
before we proceed to business; and that
one or more of the clergy of this city
be requested to officiate in that service.”
YVhat a lesson to the legislators of
other nations!
(e) FORGETTING THE OF-
FENCE.—-A person came to Mr. Long-
don one day and said, “I have some-
thmg against you, andI am come to
tell you of it.” “ Do walk in, sir,” he
replied; “you are my best friend: ifI
could but engage my friends to be faith-
ful with me, I should be sure to pros-
per; but, if you please, we will both
may in the first place, and ask the bless-

ing of God upon our interview.” Af-
ter they rose from their knees, and had
been much blessed together, he said,
“ Now I will thank you my brother to
, 7
tell me What it is that you have against
me.” “ Oh,” said the man, “I really
don’t know what it is; it is all gone,
~ I 7
and I believe I was in the wrong.’
PRAYER ANSWERED.
831. Prayor Answorod by God’s Providential
Control of ltiatorial and Animal Agencies
((1) THE PILGRIM FATHERS
AND THE DROUGHT.-—It is well
known, that many of the good men who
were driven from England to America,
by persecution, in the seventeenth cen-
tury, had to endure great pritations. A
numerous party, who came out about
1620, were for a time supplied with
food from England, and from the na-
tives of the western wilderness. But
as these resources were uncertain, they
began to cultivate the ground. In the
spring of 1623, they planted more corn
than ever before, but by the time they
had done planting, their food was spent.
They daily prayed, “Give us this day
our daily bread ;” and, in some way or
other, the prayer was always answered.
With a single boat and fishing-net they
caught bass, and when these failed, the;
dug for clams. In the month of June,
their hopes of a harvest were nearly
blasted by a drought, which withered
up their corn, and made the grass look
like hay. All expected to perish with
hunger.
In their distress, the pilgrims set
apart a day for humiliation and prayer,
and continued their worship for eight or
nine hours. God heard their prayers,
and answered them in a way which ex-
cited universal admiration. Although
the morning of that day was clear, and
the weather very hot and dry during
the whole forenoon, yet before night it
began to rain, and gentle showers con-
tinued to fall for many days, so that the
ground became thoroughly soaked, and
the drooping corn revived.
([2) THE SOUTH SEA ISLAND.
ERS.—About the time when the Gos-
pel was beginring to make its way in
638
_
PRAYER ANSWERED.
33]
Ra atea, a canoe, with four men in it,
was upset at sea, and the men were
thrown into the water, where, though
nearly amphibious, they must have been
drowned, the waves drifting them to and
fro, unless speedily carried to shore, or
taken up by some vessel. Two of the
men having embraced Christianity, im-
mediately cried out, “Let us pray to
Jehovah ; for he can save us.” “ VVhy
did you not pray to him sooner '2” re-
plied their pagan comrades: “here we
are in the water, and it is useless to pray
now.” The Christians, however, did
cry mightily unto their God, while all
four were clinging for life to their bro-
ken canoe. In this situation, a shark
suddenly rushed towards them, and seiz-
ed one of the men. His companions
held him as fast and as long as they
could; but the monster prevailed, and
hurried the unfortunate victim into the
abyss, marking the track with his blood.
He was one of the two who were idola-
ters. After some time, the tide bore the
surviving three to the reef, when, just
as they were cast upon it, a second
shark snatched the other idolater with
his jaws, and carried off his prey, shriek-
ing in vain for assistance, which the two
Christians, themselves struggling with
the breakers, could not afford him. This
circumstance very naturally made a
great impression upon the minds of their
countrymen, and powerfully recom-
mended to them the “ God that heareth
rayer.”
(0) LUTHER’S PRAYER FOR
MELANCTHON.—-At a certain time
Luther received an express, stating that
his bosom friend and co-worker in the
reformation, Philip Melancthon, was ly-
ing at the point of death; upon which
information he immediately set out upon
the journey of some 150 miles, to visit
him. and upon his arrival, he actually
found all the distinctive features of
death; such as the glazed eye, the cold
clammy sweat, and insensible lethargy,
upon him. Upon witnessing these sure
indications of a speedy dissolution, as he
mourn fully bent over him, he exclaimed
with great emotion, “ Oh, how awful is
the change wrought upon the visage of
my dear brother!” On hearing this
voice, to the astonishment of all present,

Melancthon opened his eyes, and look-
ing up into Luther’s face, remarked,
“ Oh Luther, is this you? Why don’t
you let me depart in peace '2” Upon
which Luther replied, “ O no, Philip, we
cannot spare you yet.” Luther then
turned away from the bed, and fell up-
on his knees, with his face towards the
window, and began to wrestle with God
in prayer, and to plead with great fer-
venc} , for more than an hour, the many
proofs recorded in Scripture of his be-
ing a prayer-hearing and prayer-answen
ing God; and also how much he stood
in need of the services of Melancthon,
in furthering that cause, in which the
honor and glory of God’s great name,
and the eternal welfare of unnumbered
millions of immortal souls, were so deep-
ly interested ; and that God should not
deny him this one request, to restore him
the aid of his well tried brother Melanc-
thon. He then rose up from prayer,
and went to the bedside again, and took
Melancthon by the hand. Upon which
Melancthon again remarked, “ Oh, dea
Luther, why don’t you let me depart 'n
peace '!” To which Luther again an-
swered, “ N o, no, Philip, we cannot pos-
sibly spare you from the field of labor
yet.” Luther then requested the nurse
to go and make him a dish of soup, ac-
cording to his instructions. Which be-
ing prepared, was brought to Luther,
who requested his friend Melancthon to
eat of it. Melancthon again asked him,
“ Oh, Luther, why will you not let m
go home, and be at rest?” To which
Luther replied as before, “Philip, we
cannot spare you yet.” Melancthon
then exhibited a disinclination to partake
of the nourishment prepared for him.
Upon which Luther remarked, “ Philip,
eat, or Iwill excommunicate you.”-—
Melancthon then partook of the food
prepared, and immediately grew better,
and was speedily restored to his wonted
health and strength again, and labored
for years afterwards with his coadjutors
in the blessed cause of the reformation.
Upon Luther’s arrival at home, he
narrated to his beloved wife Catharine
the above circumstances, and added,
“ God gave me my brother Melancthon
back in direct answer to prayer ;” and
added further, with patriarchal simpli-
639
331
PRAYER.
city, “ God on a former occasion gave
me, also, you back, Kata, in answer to
my prayer.”
(d) PRAYER FOR FAIR WEA-
TIIER.——In the life of the Rev. Robert
Blair, a Scottish minister of the seven-
teenth century, the following passage
occurs:
“There having been incessant rain
for a month in harvest, the corn was
glowing a finger length in the sheaves,
and the whole crop was in hazard of
perishing. In this deplorable situation,
the people resolved solemnly, by humi-
liation and fasting, to beseech the Lord
to avert the threatened famine. When
the day came, it rained heavily from
morning till night; so that the Lord
seemed to be thrusting out their prayers
from him. But that same night he sent
a mighty wind, which did fullv dry the
corn and check the growing; and this
wind continuing to blow fair for two
days, the people ceased, neither night
nor day, till the whole corn was got in.
During these two days,I and two neigh-
boring ministers were continuing our
supplications and thanksgivings to the
Lord for his great mercy.”
(e) PRAYING FOR A LUNATIC.
--Richard Cook, a pious man, during
Mr. Baxter’s residence at Kiddermin-
ster, went to live in the next house to
him. After some time he was seized
with melancholy, which ended in mad-
ness. The most skillful help was ob-
tained, but all in vain. While he was
in this state, some pious persons wished
to meet to fast and pray in behalf of the
sufferer ; but Mr. Baxter, in this in-
stance, dissuaded them from it, as he
apprehended the case to be hopeless, and
thought they would expose prayer to
contempt in the eyes of worldly persons,
when they saw it unsuccessful. VV hen
ten or a dozen years of aflliction had
passed over Richard Cook, some of the
pious men referred to would no longer
be dissuaded, but fasted and prayed at
his house. They continued this prac-
tice once a fortnight for several months;
at length the sufferer began to amend,
his health and reason returned, and, adds
Mr. Baxter, “he is now as well almost
as ever he was, and so hath continued
for a considerable time.”

TVVO CHRISTIANS [N AVA.
--The Rev. Eugenio Kincaid states,
that among the first conveits in Ava,
were two men who had held respectable
ofiices about the palace. Some time
after they had been baptized, a neigh-
bor determined to report them to go-
vernment, and drew up a paper setting
forth that these two men had forsaken
the customs and religion of their fathers
were worshiping the foreigner’s God,
and went every Sunday to the teacher’s
house, &c. He presented the paper
to the neighbors of the two disciples,
taking their names as witnesses, and
saying that he should go and present the
accusation on the next day. The two
Christians heard of it, and went to K. in
great alarm, to consult as to what they
should do. They said if they were ac-
cused to government, the mildest sen-
tence they could expect would be im-
prisonment for life at hard labor, and
perhaps they would be killed. K. told
them that they could not flee from Ava,
if they would ; that he saw nothing he
could do for them, and all that they
could do was to trust in God. He then
knelt with them, and besought. God to
protect them, and deliver them from the
power of their enemies. They also
prayed, and soon left K., saying that
they felt more calm, and could leave
the matter with God. That night the
persecutor was attacked by a dreadful
disease in the bowels, which so distressed
him, that he roared like a madman;
and his friends, as is too often the case
with the heathen, left him to suffer and
die alone. The two Christians whom
he would have ruined, then went and
took care of him till he died, two or
three days after his attack. The whole
affair was well known in the neighbor-
hood, and from that time not a dog dare
move his tongue against the Christians
of Ava. Is there no evidence in this
of a special providence, and that God
listens to the prayers of his persecuted
and distressed children?
(g) ELLlOTT’S PRAYER FOR
FOSTER.--Among many remarkable
instances of the prevalence of prayer,
which Dr. Mather in his Magnalia,
mentions, the following anecdote of the
celebrated Elliott deserves notice, which
640

give in D1. Mather’s own words.
There was a godly gentleman of
Charlestown, one Mr. Foster, who, with
his son was taken captive by the Turks.
Much prayer was employed, both pub-
holy and privately, by the good people
here, for the redemption of that gentle-
man, but we were at last informed, that
the bloody prince in whose dominion he
was now a slave, was resolved, that in his
lifetime, no prisoner should be released,
and so the distressed friends of this pri-
soner now concluded, “ our hope is lost.”
Upon this, Mr. Elliot in some of his
next prayers before a very solemn con-
gregation, broadly begged, “Heavenly
Father, work for the rerlemptionlgf thy
poor servant, Foster ; and the rince
who detains him, will not, as they say,
dismiss him, as long as himself lives ,-
Lord, we pray thee to kill that cruel
Prince: kill him and glorify thyself
upon him. And now behold the an-
swer: the poor captive gentleman quick-
ly returns to us, that had been mourn-
ing for him as a lost man, and brings
us news that the Prince was come to an
untimely death, by which means he was
now set at liberty.”
(h) THE COVENANTER’S
PRAYER.—~Mr. Alexander Peden, a
Scotch Covenanter, with some others,
had been, at one time, pursued both by
horse and foot, for a considerable way.
At last, getting some little height be-
tween them and their persecutors, he
stood still and said, “ Let us pray here, for
if the Lord hear not our prayer and save
us, we are all dead men.” He then
prayed, saying, “O Lord, this is the
hour and the power of thine enemies,
they may not be idle. But hast thou
no other work for them than to send
them after us? Send them after rem
to whom thou wilt gi’e strength to flee,
for our streng h is gane. Twine them
about the hill, 3 Lord, and cast the lap
of thy cloak over puir auld Saunders,
and thir puir things, and save us this ae
time, and we will keep it in remem-
brance, and tell to the commendation
of thy guidness, thy pity and compas-
sion, what thou didst for us at sic a
time.” And in this he was heard, for
a cloud of mist immediately intervened
between them and their persecutors;
PRAYER ANSWERED.
V _ - ‘-

33]
and in the meantime, orders came to go
in quest of James Renwick, and a great
company with him.
(1) THE FRENCH ARMAMENT.
--The destruction of the French arma-
ment, under the Duke d'Anville, in the
year 1746, ought to be remembered
with gratitude and admiration by every
inhabitant of this country. This fleet
consisted of forty ships of war; was
destined for the destruction of New
England, was of sufficient force to ren-
der that destruction, in the ordinary pro-
gress of things, certain ; and sailed from
Chebucto, in Nova Scotia for this pur-
pose.
In the meantime, our pious fataers,
apprised of their danger, and feeling
that their only safety was in God, had
appointed a season of fasting and prayer
to be observed in all their churches.
“While Mr. Prince was otficiating” in
this church (Old South Church) on this
fast day, and praying most fervently to
God, to avert the dreaded calamity, a
sudden gust of wind arose, (the day had
till now been perfectly clear and calm,)
so violent as to cause a loud clattering
of the windows. The Rev. pastor paus-
ed in his prayer, and looking round up-
on the congregation with a countenance
of hope, he again commenced, and with
great devotional ardor, supplicated the
Almighty God to cause that wind to
frustrate the object of our enemies, and
save the country from conquest and
popery. A tempest ensued in which
the greater part of the French fleet
was wrecked on the coast of Nova
Scotia. The Duke D’Anville the prin-
cipal general, and the second in com-
mand, both committed suicide. Many
died with disease, and thousands were
consigned to a watery grave. The
small number that remained alive, re-
turned to France without health and
without spirits. “ And the enterprise
was abandoned, and never again resum-
ed.”
VESSEL SAVED BY PRAY-
ER.——The following striking anecdote
is recorded in the diary kept at Freid-
ensburg, a settlement of the Moravians,
in St. Croix :—
In March, 1819, Mr. Bell, a captain
of a ship from Philadelphia, who is a 1'9-
41
641
$31
PRAYER.

ligious man, living some time in this
island, paid us several visits. One day
he brought with him another captain
from Baltimore, by the name of Boyle.
Having for some time conversed on reli-
gieus subjects, the latter inquired whe-
ther any of our family were on board an
English vessel, with only six guns, and
twenty-two men, which in the year
1814 was attacked by a North Ameri-
can privateer, of fourteen guns, and one
hundred and twenty men, on her voyage
to St. Thomas ; and which, after a most
desperate conflict beat off the American
enemy. He added, that he supposed
very fervent prayer had been offered
up on board the vessel. Sister Ramock
answered, that she was on board the
English vessel, and could assure him
that there was. “ That I believe,” re-
plied the captain, “ for I felt the effects
of your prayers!” He then informed
us, that he was the captain who com-
manded the privateer. “ According to
my wild way of thinking, at that time,
I was determined to strain every nerve
to get possession of the British vessel,
or sink her ; but she was protected by
a higher power, against which all my
exertions proved vain.” This disap-
pointment and defeat astonished him:
but when he afterwards heard, that mis-
sionaries were on board the English
vessel, it struck him, that the fervent
prayers to God had brought them pro-
tection and safety. This led him to a
further thought about these things ; and
at length, by God’s mercy, to a total
change of mind. On his making this
statement, we joined him in thanking the
Lord for his goodness. From this au-
thentic fact, we learn that under all
circumstances, however bad and hope-
less, it is the Christian’s duty to pray
and not to faint; to exercise faith and
hope in that Almighty Jehovah, whose
ear is never heavy that he cannot hear,
nor his hand shortened that he cannot
save.
(it) THE INDIAN MOTHER’S
PRAYER.——“ Pummehanuit, an Indian
of prime quality, on Martha’s Vineyard,
and his Wife, had buried their first five
children successively, every one within
ten days of their birth, notwithstanding
all their use of powows and of medi-

cines to preserve them. They had a
sixth child, (a son,) born about the year
1638, which was a few years before
the English settled on the Vineyard.
The mother was greatly perplexed with
fear that she should lose this child like
the former; and utterly despairing of
any help from such means as had been
formerly tried with so little success, as
soon as she was able, with a sorrowful
heart, she took up her child and went out
into the field, that she might weep out her
sorrows. While she was musing on the
insufliciency of all human help, she felt
it powerfully suggested to her m nd that
there is one Almighty God who is to he
prayed unto, that this God had created
all the things that we see—and that the
God who had given being to herself,
and all other people, and given her
child unto her, was easily able to con-
tinue the life of her child.
Hereupen, this poor pagan woman re-
solved, that she would seek unto this
God for that mercy, and did according-
ly. The issue was, that her child lived,
and her faith in Him who thus answer-
'ed her prayer was wonderfully strength- .
ened, the consideration whereof caused
her to dedicate this child unto the ser-
vice of that God who had preserved his
life, and educated him, as far as might
be, to become the servant of God.
Not long after this, the English came
to settle on Martha’s Vineyard; and
the Indians who had been present at
some of the English devotions, reported
that they assembled together, and that
the man who spoke among them often
looked upwards. This woman, from
this report, presently concluded that
their assemblies were for prayers, and
that their prayers were unto that very
God whom she had addressed for the
life of her child. She was confirmed
in this when the gospel was not long
after preached by Mr. Mayhew to the
Indians; which gospel she readily,
cheerfully, and heartily embraced. And
in the confession that she made publicly
at her admission into the church, she
gave a relation of the preparation for
the knowledge of Christ, whcrewith God
had in this remarkable way favored
her. Her child, whose name was Ja
phet, became afterwards an eminent min.
642
PRAYER ANSWERED.
82]
FM ww-
ister of Christ. He was pastor of an
Indian church, on Martha’s Vineyard ;
he also took much pains to carry the
gospel unto other Indians on the main
land, and his labors were attended with
much success.”
(Z) THE GUARDED HOUSE.-
When the year 1814 began, troops of
Swedes, Cossacks, Germans, and Rus-
sians, were within half an hour’s march
of the town of Sleswick ; and new and
fearful reports of the behavior of the
soldiers were brought from the country
every day. There had been a truce,
which was to come to an end at mid-
night of the 5th of January, which was
now drawing near.
On the outskirts of the town, on the
side where the enemy lay, there was a
house standing alone, and in it there
was an old pious woman, who was
earnestly praying, in the words of an
ancient hymn, that God would raise up
a wall around them, so that the. enemy
might fear to attack them.
In the same house dwelt her daugh-
ter, a widow, and her grandson, a youth
of twenty years. He heard the prayer
. of his grandmother, and could not re-
strain himself from saying, that he did
not understand how she could ask for
any thing so impossible, as that a wall
should be built around them, which
could keep the enemy away from their
house. The old woman, who was now
deaf, caused what her grandson said to
be explained to her, but only answered
thai she had but prayed in general for
protection for themselves and their town
people. “However,” she added, “ do
you think that if it were the will of God
to build a wall around us, it would be
impossible to him '2”
And now came the dreaded night of
the 5th of January; and about mid-
night the troops began to enter on all
sides. The house we were speaking
of lay close by the road, and was larger
than the dwellings near it, which were
only very small cottages. Its inhabit-
ants looked out with anxious fear, as
parties of the soldiers entered one after
another, and even went to the neighbor-
ing houses to ask for what they want-
ad ; but all rode past their dwelling.
Tlnoughout the whole day there had

been a heavy fall of snow—--the first
that winter—-and towards evening the
storm became violent to a degree sel-
dom known. At length came four
parties of Cossacks, who had been hin-
dered by the snow from entering the
town by another road. This part of
the outskirts was at some distance from
the town itself and therefore they would
not go further; so that all the houses
around that where the old woman lived,
were filled with these soldiers, who quar-
tered themselves in them; in several
houses there were fifty cr sixty of these
half-savage men. It was a terrible
night for those who dwelt in this part
of the town, filled to overflowing with
the troops of the enemy.
But not a single soldier came into the
grandmother’s house; and amidst the
loud noises and wild sounds all around,
not even a knock at the door was heard,
to the great wonder of the family with-
in. The next morning, as it grew
light, they saw the cause. The storm
had drifted a mass of snow, to such a
height, between the roadside and the
house, that to approach it was impossi-
ble. “ Do you not now see, my, son,”
said the old grandmother, “that it was
possible for God to raise a wall around
us ?”
Does not this story remind us of the
words-—-“ The angel of the Lord en-
campeth round about them that fear
Him and delivereth them !” Does it
not seem as if the snow had been ga-
thered together as by angels’ hands to
form a defence for that house where one
dwelt who thus feared God and trusted
in him ’?
(m) THE TIDE RETARDED.—-
“In the number of providential inter-
positions in answer to prayer,” says Le
Clerc, “may be placed what happened
on the coast of Holland, in the year 1672.
The Dutch expected an attack from
their enemies by sea, and public pray-
ers wcre ordered for their deliverance.
It came to pass, that whem their ene-
mies waited only for the tide, in order
to land, the tide was retarded, contrary
to its usual course, for twelve hours; sc
that their enemies were obliged to de-
fer the attempt to another opportunity,
which they never found, because a
643
332
PRAYER.
storm arose afterwards. and drove them
from the coast.”
33%. Prayer answered by God’s Provi-
dential Control of lilBIl’S Minds.
(a) THE WELL-TIMED LOAF.
-—A lady, who had just sat down to
breakfast, had a strong impression on
her mind, that she must instantly carry
a loaf of bread to a poor man, who lived
about half a mile from her house, by
the side of a common. Her husband
wished her either to postpone taking it
till after breakfast, or to send it by a ser-
vant; but she chose to take it immedi-
ately herself. As she approached the hut,
she heard the sound of a human voice, and
wishing to discover what was said, she
stepped unperceived to the door. She
heard the poor man praying, and among
other things he said, “ O Lord, help me ;
Lord, thou wilt help me ; thy promise
cannot fail: although my wife, my-
self, and children, have no bread to eat,
and it is now a whole day since we had
any, I know then wilt supply me,
though thou shouldst again rain down
manna from heaven.” The lady could
wait no longer, but opening the door,
*‘ Yes,” she replied, " God has sent
you relief. Take this leaf, and be en-
couraged to cast your care upon Him
who careth for you ; and whenever you
want a loaf of bread, come to my house.”
(Z2) SLAVE’S PRAYER.—-A mis-
sionary in India, passing one day
through the school-room, observed a
little boy engaged in prayer, and over-
heard him say, “O Lord J esus,I thank
thee for sending big ship into my country,
and wicked men to steal me, and bring
me here that I might hear about thee,
and love thee; and now, Lord Jesus, I
have one great favor to ask thee, please
to send Wicked men with another big
ship, and let them catch my father and
my mother, and bring them to this
country, that they may hear the mis-
sionaries preach, and love thee.” The
missionary in a few days after, saw him
standing on the sea shore, looking very
intently as the ships came in. “ What
are you looking at, Tom ?” “ I am
‘coking to see if Jesus Christ answer
prayer.” For two years he was to be

seen day after day, watching the arrival
of every ship. One day, as the mis-
sionary was viewing him, he observed
him capering about, and exhibiting the
liveliest joy. “Well, Tom, what oc-
casions so much joy ?” “O, Jesus
Christ answer prayer~—-father and mo-
ther come in that ship ;” which was ac-
tually the case.
(0) FRANCKE’S SCHOOL AT
HALLE.-—The conduct of the emi-
nent and justly celebrated Francke, in
the establishment of the hospital and
school for the poor, at Halle, near Glau-
cha, in Saxony, is well known. Hav-
ing no permanent funds to meet the
expenses, it may be easily supposed that
the good man would frequently be re-
duced to great difficulties; at such times
the interpositions of the providence of
God were truly remarkable. About
Easter, 1696, he knew not where to ob-
tain money for the expenses of the en-
suing week; but when their food was
reduced to the very last morsel, one
thousand crowns were contributed by
some entirely unknown person. A’.
another time, all their provisions were
exhausted, and the good minister wisely
presented his requests to the God of
mercy, who careth even for the ravens
when they cry. When prayer was
over, just as he was taking his seat, a
friend from a distance arrived with fifty
crowns, which was shortly followed by
twenty more. At another period, the
workmen wanted thirty crowns, wher
he remarked that he had no money, bu‘
that he trusted in God; scarcely had
he uttered the sentence, when, in this
moment of necessity, the precise sum
arrived.
“ Another time,” says Francke, “ all
our provision was spent; but, in ad-
dressing myself to the Lord, I founl
myself deeply affected with the fourtn
petition of the Lord’s prayer, ‘ Give us
this day our daily bread;’ and my
thoughts were fixed in a more especial
manner upon the words ‘this day,’ be-
cause on the very same day we had
great occasion for it. VVhile I was yet
praying, a friend of mine came before
my door in a coach, and brought the
sum of four hundred crowns!”
644
PRAYER ANSWERED.

__ ---—-_
322,333
((1) THE LUNATIC RESTORED.
--The following particulars, says the
Columbian Star, are communicated by
a friend, who received the information
immediately from one of the brethren
who attended the prayer meeting.
The daughter of a very eminent
Christian, and a deacon of the Baptist
church at Birmingham in England,
married a respectable merchant of the
city of Bristol (distant from each other
about 100 miles), and at a subsequent
period (such was the will of Providence)
by one sudden and unexpected loss at
sea, he was nearly ruined. This news
gave such a shock to his amiable com-
panion, that she was rendered altogether
insane, and that to such a degree, that
it was necessary to confine her in order
to prevent her from doing herself and
others harm. Her distressed situation
was immediately communicated by a
letter to her father, who on receiving it,
like one of old, “conferred not with
flesh and blood,” but presented the case
before his heavenly Father ; and in the
evening gathered together at his house
many of his brethren in the church for
the purpose of pleading with God in her
behalf. It was a season of solemn and
united supplication to the Lord. He
answered prayer; for a few days
after a letter was received by her father
informing him that on such an hour,
her reason returned, she sat up in
bed, her bands of confinement were
removed, and she was, as it were, in an
instant restored to her usual health.
That evening and that hour of restora-
tion, were the samc evening, and the
same hour when many were gathered
together and prayer was made unto
God for her.
833. Prayer answered by the Agency of
the Holy Spirit in various interesting
Conversions.
(a) THE PRAYING SlSTERS.—-
Two young men, members of a family
the greater number of whom were de-
voted to God, left the house of their
widowed mother, to reside in a distant
state. After a little while they imbibed
exceedingly erroneous views of religion,

and were thus exposed to the utmost '
danger. Their sisters heard of their
errors, and resolved to seek their deliv-
erance from them by earnest prayer.
They agreed separately to spend half
an hour at sunset every Saturday
evening in fervent supplication for their
brothers. The hearer of prayer was
not unmindful of their requests. The
two brothers were awakened to a sense
of their danger, and hopefully con-
verted to God.
(72) AN INFIDEL CONVERTED.
—-A writer in the Christian Witness,
speaking of the conversion of some of
Abner Kneeland’s followers, says : One
is so remarkable that we cannot forbear
relating it to our 1‘68.d6l:s The subject
of it is a young man, engaged in a pub-
lic establishment, and in the employ of
a pious individual. His former efforts
to introduce his baneful doctrines into
the establishment, were a source of
great annoyance to his employer. He
embraced every opportunity to expose
to visitors his utter contempt of all the
sacred things of the gospel.—-His bold
blasphemies, and his scornful sneers,
were alike shocking to decency and re-
ligion. The vile print which weekly
disseminates its moral poison through
our community, he contrived as fre-
quently as possible to bring under the
notice of the visitors of the establish-
ment, though his employer as vigilantly
sought to destroy it, whenever introduced
there.-—Withal, he was given to occa-
sional fits of intemperance, in which his
treatment to his family rendered him a
terror, where he ought to have been a
comfort and support. His great use-
fulness in the establishment, alone re-
conciled his employer to the utterance
of his wicked principles, and his vicious
conduct. To manifest his contempt for
the ordinances of religion, and his open
defiance of the God of the Bible, he laid a
wager with his profane companions,
that he would attend a Methodist prayer
meeting in his neighborhood, and go for-
ward L0 be prayedfor. And now mark
how God brings good out of evil. Ho
went—-and his hardihood carried him
through the accomplishment of his
wicked purpose. But perhapq his con-
science was not so much at ease as his
645
B33
PRAYER.
‘demeanor indicated; perhaps the rude
impertinence of his blasphemy startled
even his own proud heart, and awaken-
ed his attention to the things he was en-
deavoring to ridicule ; perhaps his char-
acter and purposes were known to “the
sons of God,” so that they adapted their
supplications to the dreadful enormity
of his sins. YVhatever may nave been
the immediate influence by which he
was moved, certain it is that the Spirit
of God strove with him, and subdued
the stubborn rebellion of his heart.
Conscience arose in its intended and
outraged majesty; and like Esau, when
he had lost his birthright, he “lifted up
a great and bitter cry.” He went forth
from the house of prayer, his spirit bowed
within him, and his very frame sym-
pathizing in its strong commotion. He
has found peace in believing. The
influence of his change wrought upon
her with whose happiness his principles
had hardly less to do than with his
own ; and they both entered on proba-
tion as candidates for full communion in
the denomination by whose pious in-
strumentality the husband was first
called to the knowledge of the truth.
(6) THE BEGGAR’S PRAYER.
A wealthy merchant in this country
once gave the following account :—As
he was standing at his door, a venerable
gray-headed man approached him and
asked an alms. He answered him with
severity, and demanded why he lived
so useless a life. The beggar answer-
ed that “ age disabled him for labor and
he had committed himself to the prov-
idence of God, and the kindness of good
people.” The rich man was at this
time an infidel. He ordered the old
man to depart, at the same time casting
some reflections on the providence of
God. The venerable beggar descended
the steps, and kneeling at the bottom
offered up the following prayer :—“ O my
gracious God, I thank thee that my bread
ano water are sure ; but I pray thee, in
thy intercession above, to remember this
man; he hath reflected on thy provi-
dence. F atherl forgive him, he knows
not what he saith.” Thus the present
scene ended. The words, “ Father ! for-
give him, he knows not what he saith,”
constantly rung in the ears of the rich

—-
__
man. He was much disconterted the
following night. The next day, being
called on business to a neighboring town
he overtook the old man on the read.
As he afterwards confessed, the sight
almost petrified him with guilt and fear.
He dismounted, when an interesting con-
versation ensued. At the close of it
the old man remarked :-—“ Yesterday, I
was hungry, and called at the door of a
rich man. He was angry, and told
me he did not believe in the providence
of God, and bid me depart; but at the
next house I had a plentiful meal.
And this, mark ye! Was at the house
of a poor woman.” The wealthy man
confessed, that at tl. s moment he was
pierced with a sense of guilt. He then
gave some money to the poor man, of
whom he never could hear afterwards ;
yet the sound of these words being im-
pressed on his mind by the last inter-
view-—“ He knows not what he saith,”
-never left him, till he was brought
to Christian repentance.
(d) MOTHER PRAYING FOR A
SON AT A BALL.—-When I was
about 18 years of age, says a blind
preacher, there was a dancing party in
Middleboro, Mass., which I was solicit
ed to attend, and act as usual, in the
capacity of musician. I was fond of
such scenes of amusement then, and I
readily assented to the request. I had
a pious mother ; and she earnestly rc-
monstrated against my going. But at
length, when all her expostulations and
entreaties failed in changing my pur_
pose, she said : “ Well, my son, I shall
not forbid your going; but, remember
that all the time you spend in that gay
company, I shall spend in praying for
you at home.” I‘ went to the ball, but
I was like the stricken deer, carrying
an arrow in his side. I began to play ;
but my convictions sunk deeper and
deeper, and I felt miserable indeed. I
thought I would have gi"ei the world to
have been rid of tha. mo her’s prayers.
At one timel felt so wretched and so
overwhelmed with my feelings, that I
ceased playing and dropped my musical
instrument from my hand. There was
another young person there who re-
fused to dance ; and, as I learned, her
refusal was owing to feelings similar tc
646
PRAYER ANSWERED.
333
any own, and perhaps, they arose from
1 similar cause.
My mother’s prayers were not lost.
That was the last ball I ever attended,
except one, where I was invited to play
again, but went and prayed and preach-
ed iltstead, till the place of dancing was
converted into a Bochim, a place of
weeping. The convictions of that
wretched night never wholly left me,
till they left me at the feet of Christ,
and several of my young companions in
sin ere long were led to believe and
obey the gospel also.
(e) THE PRAYING MOTHER
AND HER SIX DAUGHTERS.—-In
a sea-port town in New England, lived
a pious mother, who had six daughters.
At the age of sixty, she had been for
many years the subject of disease,
which confined her to her house, and
almost to her room. To a Christian
friend she remarked, “ I have not for
these many years known what it is to
go to the house of God, in company
with his people, and to take sweet coun-
sel with them. But I have another
source of grief greater than this; one
that weighs down my spirits day and
night, while disease and pain bear my
body towards the grave. I have six
daughters; two are married and live
near me, and four are with me ; but
not one of them is pious. I am alone.
I have no one for a Christian compan-
ion. Oh that even one of them were
pious, that I might walk alone no lon-
ger!” Such was her language. She
was evidently a woman of a sorrowful
spirit, beseeching the Lord with much
entreaty. Soon after this, a revival of
religion commenced in the neighbor-
hood, of which her four single daugh-
ters were among the first subjects. A
fifth was soon added to the number, but
the other, the eldest, was unmoved.
“Mother,” said one of the converts,
“ let us all unite in observing a day of
fasting and prayer for our unawakened
sister.” The agreement was made; the
day was observed. Of this, the subject
of their prayers had no knowledge ; but
on the same day, while engaged in her
domestic concerns at home, her mind
was solemnly arrested; and she was
soon after added to the Christian sister-

I

hood. The praying mother lived a few
years to enjoy their Christian society
They surrounded her dying bed, re-
ceived her last blessing, commended her
spirit to God, and followed the faith and
patience of that mother who was first
removed to inherit he romises.
(f) PRAYING AN HOUR DAL
LY EIGHTEEN MONTHS.——A poor
woman, at Berwick St. John, in VVilt-
shire, England, the wife of a day la-
borer, being called by the grace of God,
her husband became a bitter persecu-
tor; and, because his wife would not
relinquish the service of God, he fre-
quently turned her out of doors in the
night, and during the winter season.
The wife, being a prudent woman, did
not expose this cruelty to her neigh-
bors, but, on the contrary, to avoid their
observations, she went into the adjacent
fields, and betook herself to prayer.
Greatly distressed, but not in despair,
her only encouragement was, that with
God all things are possible ; she there-
fore resolved to set apart one hour eve-
ry day, to pray for the conversion of
her persecuting husband. This she
was enabled to do, without missing a
single day, for a whole year. Seeing
no change in her husband, she formed
a second resolution to persevere six
months longer, which she did up to the
last day, when she retired at about twelve
o’clock as usual, and, as she thought,
for the last time. Fearing that her
wishes, in this instance, might be con-
trary to the will of God, she resolved to
call no more upon him ; her desire not
being granted, her expectation appear-
ed to be cut ofi‘. That same day her
husband returned from his labor in a
state of deep dojection, and, instead of
sitting down as usual to his dinner, he
proceeded directly to his chamber. His
wife followed, and heard, to her grate-
ful astonishment, that he who used to
mock, had returned to pray.
He came down stairs, but refused to
eat, and returned aga, n to his labor un-
til the evening. When he came home,
his wife afi"ectionately asked him, “ What
is the matter ?”
“ Matter enough,” said he, “ I am at
lost sinner. About twelve o’clock this
morning,” continued he, “I was at my
647
B33
PRAYER.
-1;-|
work, and a passage of Scripture was
deeply impressed upon my mind, which
cannot get rid of, and I am sure I am
est.”
His wife encouraged him to pray,
but he replied, “O wife, it is of no
use, there is no forgiveness for me l”
Smitten with remorse at the recollec-
tion of his former conduct, he said to
her, “Will you forgive me '2” She re-
plied, “Oh yes.” “Will you pray
for me ?” “Oh yes, that I will.”
“ Will you pray for me new ?” “ That
I will, with all my heart.” They in-
stantly fell on their knees and wept,
and made supplication. His tears of
penitence mingled with her tears of
gratitude and joy. He became decid-
edly pious, and afterwards greatly ex-
erted himself to make his neighbors
acquainted with the way of salvation by
Christ Jesus.
(g) A WRITTEN PRAYER AN-
SWERED.—Captain Mitchell K. was
from early life accustomed to the sea.
He commanded a merchant ship that
sailed from Philadelphia. After his
marriage, he again went to sea, and
one day committed to writing, while in
a highly devotional frame of mind, a.
prayer for the temporal and eternal
happiness of his beloved wife and un-
born babe. This prayer, nearly filling
a sheet of paper, was deposited, with his
other writings, at the bottom of an old
oak chest. The captain died before
the completion of the voyage, in the
year 1757, and his instruments, papers,
etc., were returned to his wife. Finding
they were generally what she could not
understand, she looked up the chest for
the inspection and use of her babe, (who
proved to be a son,) at some future pe-
riod. At eighteen, this son entered the
army, and in 1775 marched for Boston.
He gave the reins to his lusts, and for
many years yielded to almost every
temptation to sin. At last, he was
called to the death-bed of his mother,
who gave him the key of his father’s
chest, which, however, he did not open,
lest he should meet with something of
it religious kind, that would reprove his
sins and harass his feelings. At length,
in 1814, when in his fifty-sixth year,
be determined to examine its contents.

_- v --

~——‘
When he reachei tne bottom, he dis-
covered a paper neatly folded, and en-
dorsed-—-“ The prayer of Mitchell K
for blessings on his wife and child.
August 23, 1757.” He read it. The
scene, the time, the place and circum-
stances under which it was written and
put there, all rushed upon his mind,
and overwhelmed him; for often had
his widowed mother led him to the
beach, and pointed to him the direction
on the horizon, where she had traced
the last glimpse of flowing canvas that
bore his father from her, never to re-
turn. He threw the contents back
into the chest, folded up the prayer,
and put it in the case with his father’s
quadrant, locked up the chest, and de-
termined never again to unlock it.
But his father’s prayer still haunted his
imagination, and he could not forget it.
His distress then became extreme, and
a woman with whom he sinfully lived
entreated to know the cause. He look-
ed on her with wildness, and replied,
“Icannot tell you.” This only in-
creased her solicitude; he entreated
her to withdraw ; as she left the room,
she cast an anxious and expressive look
on him, and he instantly called her
back. He then, with all the feelings
which an awakened guilty conscience
could endure, told her the cause of his
agonies——his father’s prayer found in
the old oak chest. She thought him
deranged, his neighbors were called in
to comfort him, but in vain. The
prayer had inflicted a wound which the
great Physician of souls only could
heal. From that period he became an
altered man. He married this woman,
whom he had formerly seduced; uni-
ted himself to the church of Christ,
manumitted his slaves; and lived and
died a humble, exemplary Christian.
(/L) PRAYER FOR THREE SIS.
TERS.—-A young lady, who afterwards
became the wife of an American mis-
sionary, immediately after her own con-
version, began to pray and use means
for the salvation of her three younger
sisters. She began and continued to
act systematically. A little season was
devoted every week to pray with and
for them. At length, He who is both
a prayer-hearing and a prayer-answer
U48
PRAYER ANSWERED.
-—— *1
ing God, who has said, “ Ask, and ye
shall receive,” and who never said,
“ Seek ye me in vain,” condescended to
give her agracious answer. The three
sisters were brought to bow to the sceptre
of Jesus, and to take upon them the pro-
fession of his name. After their conver-
sion, the prayer-meeting became doubly
interesting to all ; and it was continued
by the three, for whom it was first estab-
lished, and the mother occasionally
united with them. If all Christians
were thus devoted to prayer, how
much good might be effected!
“I KNOW WHAT IS THE
MATTER.”—-A gay, dissipated young
man, went one day to his pious mother,
and said, “Mother, let me have my
best clothes, I am going to a ball to-
night.” She expostulated with him, and
urged him not to go, by every argu-
ment in her power. He answered,
“Mother, let me have my clothes, I
will go, and it is useless to say any
thing about it.” She brought his
clothes; he put them on, and was go-
ing out. She stopped him, and said,
“My child, do not go.” He said he
would; she then said to him, “ My
son, while you are dancing with your
gay compai ions in the ball-room, I
shall be out in that wilderness praying
to the Lord to convert your soul.” He
went ; the ball commenced ; but instead
of the usual gayety, an unaccountable
gloom pervaded the whole assembly.
One said, “We never had such a dull
meeting in our lives;” another, “I
wish we had not come, we have no
life, we cannot get along ;” a third, “I
cannot think what is the matter.” The
young man instantly burst into tears,
and said, “I know what is the mat-
ter; my poor old mother is now pray-
ing in yonder wilderness for her un-
godly son.” He took his hat, and said,
“ I will never be found in such a place
as this again,” and left the company.
To be short, the Lord converted his
soul. He became a member of the
church—-was soon after taken ill——and
died happy.
' A FATHER AND HIS
FRIENDS PRAYING.—-The Boston
Christian Herald relates the following
'nstance of the efficacy of prayer A

333
gentleman in Boston had an impenitent
son in Vermont, for Whose salvation he
felt extremely anxious, and calling on
some of the brethren of the church,
made known to them his feelings, and
requested them to go with him and pray
that his son might be converted to God.
He prevailed on his brethren, and they
joined him in prayer.
Not long after this, his son knocxed
at his father’s door in Boston ; his father
went to the door, and his son on seeing
him, exclaimed, weeping, “ I have
come to see you that you might rejoice
with me for what the Lord has done for
my soul.” His father inquired at what
time his mind was first arrested-he
replied on such an evening, about eight
o’clock. His father remembered it was
the same time, at which he and his
brethren engaged in prayer for his son,
and he greatly rejoiced with him in the
goodness of God.
(It) THE WIFE’S LAST PRAY-
ER.—In a revival that occurred solne
years ago in New England, several
hardened men, past the meridian of life,
became as little children, and were ad-
mitted to the church. The case of one
excited peculiar attention. He had
been moral, indeed, but ignorant of re-
ligion, while most of his family had
become members of the church. He
had withstood the gospel so long that
Christians seemed to regard his case as
hopeless, and forgot him in their efforts
and supplications. But his wife had
long been faithful in entreating him,
and for years had made him the subject
of many prayers. And now she felt
moved once more to enter her closet in
his behalf and submit his case, with an
agonizing effort, fully and finally to
God’s disposal, and there lay down for-
ever the burden of her anxiety on his
account. After long wrestling, she
came at length from the place of her
intercessions, and finding him at the door
engaged with his axe, she begged him
in a farewell entreaty, for her sake if
not for his own, to go immediately and
pray for the salvation of his soul. He
seemed amazed, like Saul of T-arsus
when the voice came from Heaven.
He stood a moment trembling-—the axe
fell from his hand——and he replied, “ I
649
833
PRAYER.
-—-_
wz'ZZ.” He went to a retired place, re-
mained till some time in the evemng,
and when he returned he was under
deep convictions. He began from this
time to attend all the meetings for
prayer and worship. But his feelings
were unknown to Christians, and at the
close of the solemn meetings, he would
linger behind, standing apart, neglected,
and gazing at the group of happy con-
verts, a lame old man waiting beside
the pool and none to help him into the
healing waters. His wife watched his
course, and said but little. At length
the light broke gradually in upon his
soul. His life exhibited a marvelous
change. He attended every meeting,
old as he was, with the zeal of a young
convert; he confessed Christ before
men, and resolved to erect a family al-
tar. After knowing such a fact what
wife could cease praying for a hus-
band’s conversion’.Z
(Z) PRAYER FOR AN ABSENT
BROTHER.—A lady in New-York
was one day called on by her pastor,
who found her earnestly telling her
newly converted husband, of the assu-
rance she felt that the Lord had heard
her prayer for the conversion of an
absent brother, who was engaged in
mercantile business at the South. The
husband, though recently brought to
Christ in answer to her prayers, smiled
incredulously at what he considered her
enthusiasm. The pastor pointed out
some passages of Scripture which war-
ranted the pious woman, as he thought,
in exercising such feelings and expec-
tations, though he himself was but half
convinced that the sequel would con-
firm her sanguine hopes. Her own
confidence, however, was strengthened ;
she felt more than ever assured that
God had heard her supplications.
This lady had previously done all she
could by writing to awaken her brother
to a sense of his condition as a sinner,
and men had besieged the throne of
grace in his behalf. The result was
that as soon as a letter could come from
the South, she received a letter from
him, informing her that on that same
afternoon, at the same time she was
bowing her knees in his behalf in her
closet, and her soul set at rest concern-

ing him, he, thousands of miles away
from his sister, entered into his cham-
ber grieving over his sins. There he
made a full surrender——there he knelt
in sorrow, but arose rejoicing in Christ.
(m) PRAYER MEETING FOR
THE CONSUMPTlVE.——A young
lady who had for several successive
terms been connected with a Seminary
in H., Mass, was taken sick with con-
sumption. Her amiable disposition and
attractive manners had won for her the
esteem and love of both teacher and
classmates. But amiable and morally
good as she was, she was entirely des-
titute of that grace which would have
added lustre to all her virtues. She
was not a Christian. She now found
herself upon a sick bed, death staring
her in the face, “ without God and with-
out hope in the world.” The several
clergymen in the place, visited and
conversed with her day after day, and
yet, believer as she was in the revealed
truths of the Gospel, she still appeared
unaffected. Several weeks passed on ;
her disease in the meantime had been
making rapid inroads upon her consti-
tution, and it was now thought that shn
could survive but a short time. Her
friends renewed their efforts to bring her
to Christ. They plainly, but affection-
ately told her of the danger to which
she was exposed, and urged her as she
valued her soul, to secure its salvation.
She appeared to have clear intellectual
views of her case, and expressed a
strong desire that God would bring her
to repentance, but seemed disinclined
to make any effort for herself. The
pious students in the Seminary, and
some of her classmates in an especial
manner, felt deeply interested in her
case, and one of them, a young man,
proposed to several of his companions,
that they should commence a series of
prayer-meetings for the purpose of mak-
ing special effort for her conversion,
and continue them until she was by the
blessing of God converted. And the
ensuing evening they met, a little band
of the faithful followers of the Redeemer,
and he, true to his promise, met with
them. Each in his turn, feelingly and
fervently presented her case before God,
pleading with him to have mercy upon
650
PRAYER ANSWERED.
333, 331

-v .~_
her, and bring her to a saving know-
ledge of his grace.
The meeting at length closed, and
they parted to meet again the next
evening. But they had prayed in
“ faith believing,” and he who has pro-
mised to hear and answer such prayer,
had by his Spirit been operating upon
that young lady’s heart, even at the
very time that others were interceding
for her 5 and the next morning, these
pious students had the satisfaction of
hearing that Miss D had acknow-
ledged God as her Savior, and was
rejoicing in the hope of immortal life.
She was converted while they were
praying for her. She gave abundant
evidence of the genuineness of her con-
version, and died soon after, exclaiming
“Jesus is precious.”
(n) THE PIOUS LAD AND HIS
PERSECUTING FATHER. — In
1828 or 9, a lad in Kentucky was hope-
fully converted, whose father was a
decided enemy of the gospel of Christ 5
and while his affectionate son entreated
him with tears to seek the favor of his
Maker, he turned away with scoffmg
and profaneness.
It is true that the Christian character
shines most beautiful in adversity. It
gathers fragrance from afliiction. So
it was in the instance before us. This
lad had learned in the school of Christ;
and though he received in return the
unkindest treatment, he continued his
entreaties to his ungrateful parent.
The father at length became enraged,
and in a fit of passion told his son to
quit his religion, or he should quit his
father’s house. He gave him until
the next morning to decide the ques-
tion.
The night, as we may well suppose,
was spent by this young disciple in
laying his complaints before God 5 and
He whose ear is never closed to the
supplications of humble and contnte
hearts, was graciously pleased to afford
him relief.
The morning came. The father, firm
to his purpose, demanded of the son if
ne had made his decision. “Yes, fa-
ther, ’ said the faithful boy, “I am
decided to serve God-—-to serve him as
long as I live--and I feel assured, that


‘ when my father and my mother forsalce
me, then the Lord will take me up.’ ”---
The inflexible father directed him to
the door--to leave his house forever.
The son begged permission to pray with
his parents once more, before he bade
them a final adieu. So reasonable a
request could not be refused. He
kneeled down and prayed. The full-
ness of his soul was poured out, and his
ardent cries went up to the throne of
God. The Holy Spirit descended, and
both father and mother fell upon the
floor, under the oppressive weight of
their sins.
When the lad rose from his knees,
the hearts of his parents relented; hey
besought him to tell them what they
should do to be saved. In the spirit
of the gospel he directed them to the
Lamb of God which taketh away the
sins of the world. There was no need
of his entreaties now. God had opened
their eyes to see the enormity of their
guilt, and they could never have peace
till they found it in the hopes of the
gospel. These hopes they were soon
led to cherish, and at the time this ac-
count was related, they were adorning
the church of Christ-
834. Prayer Answered by the agency of
the Holy Spirit, in Various Interesting
Rovivals.
(a) ASSURANCE OF A REVI-
VAL’S APPROACH.—-There was a
woman in New Jersey, in a place
where there had been a revival. She
was very positive there was going to be
another. She insisted upon it, that they
had had the former rain, and were now
going to have the latter rain. She
wanted to have conference meetings
appointed. But the minister and elders
saw nothing to encourage it, and would
do nothing. She saw they were blind,
and so she went forward and got a car-
penter to make seats for her, for she said
she would have meetings in her OW1
house. There was certainly going to be
a revival. She had scarcely opened her
door for meetings, before the Spirit of
God came down in great power. And
these sleepy church members found
themselves surrounded all at once Wi‘h
651
334- 335
PRAYER.
convicted sinners. And they could
only say, “ Surely the Lord was in this
place and I knew it not.” The reason
why such persons understand the indi-
cation of God’s will, is not because
of the superior wisdom that is in them,
but because the Spirit of God leads
them to see the signs of the times.
And this not by revelation, but they are
led to see that converging of providences
to a single point, which produces in
them a confident expectation of a cer-
tain result.
(Z2) THE POOR BLACKSMITH’S
POWER WITH GOD.—In a certain
town, says Mr. Finney, there had been
no revival for many years; the church
was nearly run out, the youth were all
unconverted, and desolation reigned un-
broken. There lived in a retired part
of the town, an aged man, a blacksmith
by trade, and of so stammering a tongue
that it was painful to hear him speak.
On one Friday, as he was at work in
his shop, alone, his mind became greatly
exercised about the state of the church,
and of the impenitent. His agony be-
came so great, that he was induced ‘to
lay aside his work, lock the shop door,
and spend the afternoon in prayer.
He prevailed, and on the Sabbath,
called on the minister and desired him
to appoint a conference meeting. After
some hesitation, the minister consented,
observing, however, that he feared but
few would attend. He appointed it the
same evening, at a large private house.
When evening came, more assembled
than could be accommodated in the
house. All was silent for a time, until
one sinner broke out in tears, and said,
if any one could pray, he begged him to
ray for him. Another followed, and an-
other, and still another, until it was found
that persons from every quarter of the
town were under deep convictions. And
what was remarkable, was, that they all
dated their conviction at the hour when
the old man was praying in his shop.
A powerful revival followed. Thus
this old stammering man prevailed, and,
as a prince, had power with God.
(0) REVIVAL WITHOUT A MI-
NISTER.—The following facts were
stated by Rev. Mr. Crane, at a mis-
sionary meeting in N ew-York city.

_-van‘
Not four miles from my residence,
said Mr. Crane, in the western part of
this state, there was to be found a few
years since, a mo rt abandoned and pro-
fligate set of men, who disregarded re-
ligion and despised its power. In the
course of Providence, a professor of re-
ligion from Connecticut happened to
come amongst them. He mourned over
their state, and wet his couch with his
tears. He prayed unceasingly that he
might see the souls of those around him
saved. One was finally brought to a
knowledge of the truth, and with him
joined in prayer. A revival of religion
followed; and soon there were .0 be
numbered fifteen professing Christians.
In answer to their prayers another in-
crease was experienced; a proposal
was then made to send for a missionary
that should labor amongst them. To
this the aged father of the colony ob-
jected, trusting that He who had helped
them thus far, would not permit them
to fail. No minister came among them
until their number amounted to fifty-
four, and they were able to build a
church, and settle one with a salary
adequate to his support. All this with-
out any preaching, other than the ex-
ample and prayers of a single Christian.
886. Various Examples of the Power of
Prayer.
(a) DR. MASON AND THE DI.
ING UNITARIAN.—-The Rev. Dr.
Mason, of N ew-York, was once re-
quested to visit a lady in dying circum-
stances, who, together with her husband,
openly avowed infidel principles, though
they attended on his ministry. On ap-
proacning her bedside, he asked her if
she felt herself a sinner, and perceived
the need of a Savior. She frankly told
him, she did not; and that she wholly
disbelieved the doctrine of a Mediator.
“Then,” said the doctor, “I have no
consolation for you; not one word of
comfort. There is not a single passage '
in the Bible that warrants me to speak
peace to any one who rejects the Me-
diator provided for lost sinners. You
must abide the consequences of your
infidelity.” Saying that, he was on the
point of leaving the room, when some
652
POWER OF PRAYER.
335

up _.-_-——_|
-me said, “Well, but doctor, if you
cannot speak consolation to her, you
can pray for her.” To this he assented,
and kneeling down by the bedside,
prayed for her as a guilty sinner, just
sinking into hell; and then arising
from his knees, he left the house. A
day or two after, he received a letter
from the lady herself, earnestly desiring
that he would come and see her without
delay. He immediately obeyed the
summons; but what was his amaze-
ment, when, on entering the room, she
held out her hand to him, and said, with
a benignant smile, “It is all true; all
that you said on Sunday is true. I
have seen myself the wretched sinner
which you described me to be in prayer.
I have seen Christ that all-sufficient Sa-
vior you said he Was; and God has
mercifully snatched me from the abyss
of infidelity in which I was sunk, and
placed me on the Rock of ages. There
I am secure; there I shall remain. I
know in whom I have believed I” All
this was like a dream to him ; but she
proceeded, and displayed as accurate a
knowledge of the way of salvation re-
vealed in the gospel, and as firm a re-
liance on it, as if she had been a dis-
ciple of Christ for many years. Yet
there was nothing like boasting or
presumption-—all was humility, resigna-
tion and confidence. She charged her
husband to educate their daughter in
the fear of God ; and, above all, to keep
from her those novels and books of infi-
del sentimentality, by which she had
been nearly brought to ruin. On the
evening of the same day, she expired in
fullness of joy and peace in believing.
(b) THE MURDERERS OVER-
AWED.——Maree, a Polynesian, was a
man of fine natural talents, and was
not destitute of acquired ones; being
able to read and write well, and ac-
quainted with some of the first rules of
arithmetic. He was possessed of a sur-
prising memory, a quick perception,
and a good understanding, with a sound
and penetrating judgment; while, to
crown all, he was a man of genuine
piety and ardent zeal in the Savior’s
cause. He was one of the first who
publicly embraced Christianity among
these islanders, and, before it became

general, his life was often in jeopardy,
through his profession of it. More than
one attempt was made, by a number of
wicked men, to shoot him, and a little
praying company who used to meet
with him that they might together wor-
ship the true God. On one occasion,
these men having found him and his
little party at prayer in a place appro-
priated for the purpose, leveled their
muskets at them, with a view to execute
their cruel design, when, as though
withheld by an unseen hand, their at-
tention was arrested by the prayers
offering up by the intended victims of
their fury. The effect was ll'1Sl'.3.L.’8.I18-
ous and powerful. Abandoning their
murderous }urpose. they went in and
sat down with Maree and his company,
confessed what their intention had been,
and told them not to be afraid, as they
should not molest them any more;
which promise the kept.
(c) “SHOVV T EM THY CROSS.”
—Says a pastor in one of the Middle
States, during a pleasing and powerful
revival of religion, having but very
few male members to. take part in the
prayer meetings, I was accustomed oc-
casionally to call on one or two females,
to whom the voice of the commumty
by general consent seemed to have con-
ceded the propriety of the exercise m
such meetings. VVhile one was thus
engaged, all was solemnity, anxiety, and
agony, with twenty or more anxious
souls around us. She prayed, “ Show
them thy cnoss and lead them to it; eh-
able them to see the SUFFERER there, anal
the blood thou hast shed in their behaff.~ '
These words came like the rising sun
upon the mind of an intelligent man
then in agony among the anxious, ans
were like balm to his soul. His guih
and danger were in full view, but now
he saw the ground of hope and safetv.
and gladly resorted to it, submitted, be-
lieved and rejoiced; and before he left
the house told us of the relief and peace
he had found. But while these W at-ds
seemed to give life to one, they at the
same moment smote another.
There was standing a little on one
side, an intelligent, influential, but stub-
born young man, observing all that
passed; and as these words of that
653
335
PRAYER.
—_-_-_
prayer fell upon his ear in all the feel-
ing earnestness in which they were ut-
tered, he said they came like a bolt
from heaven; his muscles relaxed, his
knees gave way, and he sank upon the
seat by him as weak as water. He
passed through a season of deep dis-
tress, obtained peace with the former,
became an active, devoted and efficient
Christian; and is now a leading mem-
ber of a prosperous church, and su-
perintendent of a flourishing Sabbath
School.
(d) NONE PRAYS FOR ME.—-A
writer in the N. Y. Evangelist says:
Whilst a meeting of much interest
was going on in a certain country town
in Virginia, Mr. K., a pious young man,
selected a young lawyer who was a
noted scorner, and made him the sub-
ject of special prayer. About two days
afterwards, the young lawyer came to
the house where the pastor was. I my-
self was in the same house at this time,
but being particularly engaged I re-
quested the pastor to speak to him.
“O,” says he, “he is not serious.”
Yes, I replied, he must be, or he would
not come here. “I know him better
than you do,” said the pastor, “he is
a scorner. There is no hope of him.”
The young lawyer was permitted to
depart, I believe without a single reli-
gious remark having been made to him.
My conjectures were true. He was
then under awakening influences, and
a few days afterwards he professed con-
version!
Perhaps two weeks after that, this
young lawyer was riding along the
road on his way to a protracted meet-
ing, about to be held in an adjacent
county. Before he reached the place
he fell in with another young man, Mr.
P., going to the same meeting. Reli-
gious conversation was introduced, and
the hopefully converted sinner spoke
freely of the change of views and feel-
ings which he had experienced, and
ascribed them, under God, to the pray-
ers of his friend, Mr. K., who selected
him as the subject of special prayer.
“Ah,” said Mr. P., “I had friends
once who used to pray for me; but I
have been so careless, so wicked, they
on’t think it worth while to pray for

-J-.n~,¢|
me now. They have all given me up.
There is not one,I suppose, on earth,
who remembers me in prayer.” “ O,
yes,” replied the young lawyer, “there
is one I know.” “ Who is it ?” quickly
asked Mr. P. “The very same who
prayed for me, has made you the sub-
ject of special prayer.” “Is it possi-
ole !” said Mr. P. ; and throwing him-
self back, he had well nigh fallen from
the horse upon which he was riding.
From that moment he waked up to the
claims of his undying soul. A few
days after, with great joy, he was tell-
ing to all around, what a dear Savior
he had found l—Blessed be God, the
effectual fervent prayer of a righteous
man availeth much.
(e) A DUEL BROKEN UP.-A
pious young man in the army, not
having a place in the barracks in which
he was quartered, wherein he could
pour out his soul unto God in secret,
went for this purpose one dark night
into a large field adjoining. Here he
thought that no human being could see
or hear him. But that God whose
thoughts and ways are superior to ours,
ordained otherwise. Two wicked men
belonging to the same regiment, in
whose hearts enmity had long existed
against each other, were resolved. as
they said, to end it that night in bat-
tle. They chose the same fi6lCftu fight
in, where the other had gone to pray.
The field, however, Iwas large, and they
might have taken different ways; but
they were led by Providence to the
same spot where the young man was en-
gaged in his delightful exercise. They
were surprised at hearing, as they
thought, a voice in the field at that
time of night; and much more so when
they drew nearer, and heard a man at
prayer. They halted, and gave atten-
tion ; and the effect of the prayer was
to turn their mutual aversion into love.
They took each other instantly by the
hand, and cordially confessed that there
remained no longer in either of their
breasts hatred against each other.
A BALL BROKEN UP.—In
a certain place, where there had for a
long time been no revival, there was to
be a splendid ball. There were three
very pious and devoted Christians in
654
POWER OF PRAYER.

ae village who mourned over the exces-
aive dissipation and folly of the rising ge-
neration, and especially over the coming
ball. They naturally feared it would
do much to deepen the disrelish of the
youth for sacred things, and to entrench
‘hem more securely in the charmed
circle of worldlines and vanity. They
knew no means to prevent the ball, and
they determined on he evening of the
dance, to meet together and carry the
case to God, and beseech Him to con-
found this artful scheme of Satan to
delude and ruin the young. They
prayed with earnestness, and with faith,
wrestling as Jacob did with the angel
of God. Ere long they arose from
their knees, believing their supplica-
tions had found audience in heaven.
How was it? Soon after the ball com-
menced, a young lady was led out on
the floor to dance, and being struck
with an awful sense of her guilt and
madness, she fell down on her knees,
and in the utmost agony and horror of
conscience, began to cry to God to have
mercy on her soul. Confusion, sadness,
and dismay spread like fire through all
the circle, music and mirth suddenly
ceased, and all returned to their homes.
VV as not this the finger of God ? Was
not this the work of the Holy Spirit?
Was not His promise verified to the
two or three, who were agreed as touch-
ing one thing?
(g) SCHOOLMASTER PREPA-
RING TO PRAY.——A minister re-
lates a very extraordinary fact, which
he had from a gentleman of respectabi-
lity. In one of the Southern cities, an
instructor was wanted to take the charge
of a school. A gentleman well quali-
fied by talents, made application for the
situation, and was appointed. On be-
eommg acquainted with the duties
which he must perform, he found, to his
surprise, that one of the requisitions
which were made on the instructor was,
that he must daily open the school by
prayer. As he was an infidel in his
opinions, this was to him an appalling
condition. How could he, with his pecu-
liar views, attempt to pray to a God, in
whose existence and attributes he did
not believe ? Here was a mortal strug-
-‘le As, however, he greatly coveted
335
- _ _
the situation, to which at his own re-
quest he had been appointed, he came
to the conclusion he would endeavor to
surmount the difiiculty, by learning in
some way a form of prayer. The time
drawing near when he must open the
school, he retired to a forest of woods
in the vicinity, where he might be per-
fectly free in expressing himself audi-
bly and without interruption, resolving
to do so as if it were the first day of
opening the school. He commenced,
but before leaving the woods, light
darted on his mind, and conviction
arrested his conscience. He became
deeply sensible of the being and per-
fections of Almighty God, against whom
he had transgressed in denying his ex-
istence; and when the season arrived
for commencing his duties as a teacher,
he had become a true Christian, and he
prayed with the unction and penitence
of the publican. He became the in-
strument of the conversion of a number
of his pupils, and was afterwards an
acceptable and highly popular preacher
of the gospel.
(h) PRAYER ON HORSEBACK
—A young lady, says a writer in the
Pastor’s Journal, in making a visit to
one of her acquaintance, took an unfre-
quented path through a deeply shaded
grove; and as the day was very warm,
after pursuing her walk some distance
up a somewhat steep acclivity, she
stopped to rest her on a beautiful mossy
bank. VVhile seated there, the tones
of a human voice very unexpectedly
broke upon her ear. On turning her
eye the way from whence it came, she
saw Deacon M on horseback,
making his way up the same hill. The
thought occurred to her that she would
retire from the sight of the road, let
him pass, and remain undiscovered.
This she did. As Deacon M-———-— ap-
proached leisurely on his horse, she
was wondering what could be his object
in being so busily employed in talking
to himself, as she could distinctly dis-
cover that no fellow mortal accompa-
nied him. As he drew nearer, and she
could hear his voice more plainly, she
ascertained that he was engaged in
prayer. The only sentence that left a
distinct impression on her mind was.
655
336
PRAYER.
" O Lord have mercy on the dear youth
in this place.” He passed on, praying,
till the sounds which came from his
lips died away on her ear. But an im-
pression was made upon her heart, as
it may be hoped, which will never die
away, but prepare her to mingle in the
symphonies of the redeemed in ascrib-
ing salvation to God and the Lamb. A
new discovery respecting Christians was
at this instant made to her. “Is this
the manner,” she reflected with herself,
" in which they live, and pass on their
way about the town ? Do they thus
pray for the youth '2 How unlike a
Christian have I lived! I have never
prayed in this manner: Ihave seldom
thought of the souls of others, and cared
but very little for my own. While
others pray for me, I live without prayer
for myself.”
Her sins, particularly her neglect
of prayer to Him who is every where,
now became a distressing burden to
her. Soon, we have had reason to hope,
there was joy among the angels of God
over her as a penitent, and over many
others in the town. She was first awa-
kened in a revival.
3%. Miscallaneous Facts Respecting Prayer.
(a) MASSA, YOU NO UNDER-
STAND IT.——There once lived in one
of our large cities a poor colored woman,
named Betty, who had been confined
by sickness for nearly twenty years.
By the few friends that knew her she
was familiarly called poor Betty. Betty
had seen comfortable days. She had
long been blind, and was said to be 105
years old.
Mr. B. was a man of wealth and
business in the same city. His signa-
ture was better than silver on the ex-
change, because it was more easily
transferred. His sails whitened the
ocean, his charity gladdened many
nearts, and his family gave impulse to
many benevolent operations. Notwith-
standing the pressure of business, Mr. B.
often found time to drop in and see
what became of poor Betty. His voice,
and even his step had become familiar
to her, and always lighted up a smile

._ --- --
on her dark wrinkled face. He would
often say some pleasant things to
cheer this lonely pilgrim on her way to
Zion.
One day Mr. B. took a friend from
the country to see Betty. is he stop-
ped and entered the cottage door, he
said, “ Ah, Betty, you are alive yet.”
“ Yes, tank God,” said Betty. “ Betty,
said he, “ why do you suppose Goo
keeps you ‘so long in this world, poor.
and sick, and blind, when you might go
to heaven and enjoy so much '2”
While Mr. B.’s tone and manner
were half sportive, be yet uttered a
serious thought which had more than
once come over his mind. Now comes
the sermon.
Betty assumed her most serious and
animated tone and replied, “Ah, massa,
you no understand it. Dare be two
great things to do for de church; one
be to prayfor it, Zoder be to actfor it.
Now, massa, God keep me alive to pray
for de church, and he keep you alive to
act for it. Your great gifts no do much
good, massa, without poor Betty’s pray-
ers.
For a few moments Mr. B. and his
friend stood silent, thrilled, and aston-
ished. They felt the knowledge, the
dignity, the moral sublimity of this short
sermon. It seemed to draw aside the
veil a little, and let them into heaven’;
mysteries. “Yes, Betty,” replied Mr
B., in the most serious and subdued
tones, “your prayers are of more im-
portance to the church than my alms.”
This short sermon preached by poor
Betty, was never forgotten by Mr. B.
or his friend. It made them more
prayerful, more submissive in afllic
tions.
(Z2) GOD LESS CRITICAL THAN
MEN .-—-“ My grandfather,” says Mr.
Orton, “once solicited a very excellent
but modest minister to pray in his family
when there were several others present ;
he desired to be excused, alleging that
he had not thought of it, and there were
so many other ministers present.”
My grandfather replied, “Sir, you are
to speak to your master, and not to them,
and my Bible tells me, he is not so criti-
cal and censorious as men are.”
656
PRIDE
337
337. PRIDE.
a) HOWARD AND THE COUN-
T SS. —- The eminently great and
good Howard, the philanthropist, neither
wanted courage or talent to administer
reproof where he thought it was needed.
A German count, governor of Upper
Austria, with his countess, called one
day on a man who had excited so large
a share of the public attention. The
count asked him the state of the prisons
within his department. Mr. Howard
replied, “ The worst in all Germany ;”
and advised that the countess should
visit the female prisoners. “I,” said
she, haughtily; “ I go into prisons!”
and rapidly hastened down stairs in
great anger. Howard, indignant at her
proud and unfeeling disposition, loudly
called after her, “Madam, remember
that you are a woman yourself, and you
must soon, like the most miserable fe-
male prisoner in a dungeon, inhabit but
a small space of that earth from which
you equally originated.”
(6) THE CHIEF’S INQUIRY.—-
A petty African prince who was visit-
ed in his cell by an English traveler,
folded his arms with an air of imperial
consequence, as he sat upon the floor,
and demanded of his guest, “ lVhat do
they think of me in Europe '2”
(0) THE CONQUEROR CON-
QUERED. — Tigranes, an ancient
monarch of Pontus, furnishes a striking
instance of the uncertainty of worldly
possessions. At the beginning of his
reign his dominions were small; but
he overthrew many cities of Parthia
and Greece, conquered the whole of
Syria and Palestine, and gave laws to
the Scenites of Arabia : he acquired an
authority which was respected by all
the princes of Asia, and was honored
by the people almost with adoration.
I-Iis pride was inflamed and supported
by the immense riches he possessed, by
the excessive and continual praises of
his fiatterers, and by a prosperity which
had never known an interruption. He
knew no law but his own will, and as-
sumed the title of king of lungs! So
fir did he carry his pride as to be wait-

ed on by c'rowned heads. He never ap
peared in public without the attendance
of four kings on foot, two on each side
of his horse; these persons performed
for him the meanest services, especially
when he gave audience to foreign
ambassadors. On such occasions they
were compelled to appear in the habits
and posture of slaves. Such pride is
universally hateful, and is sure to be
ultimately punished. Tigranes was
compelled to resign his dominions to
Pompey, who only restored to him a
small part of his power.
(at) THE ANGRY MONK.—“I re-
member,” says a keen writer, “when at
Tivoli, near Rome, conversing with a
monk, who with a face of much sorrow
told me, that he was a great rascal and
the chiefest of sinners, worse than
Judas Iscariot, and altogether vile. I
said to him in reply, ‘Alas, my poor
friend, it is but too true,’ and then the
man got very angry, and would not talk
with me any more !”
(e) THE PEDANT SILENCED
—At a dinner party one of the com-
pany challenged any person to start a
question to which he could not give a
satisfactory answer. All were silent,
till a worthy clergyman said, “ This
plate furnishes me with a question-
Here is a fish that has always lived in
salt water ; pray tell me why it should
come out a fresh fish, and not a salt
one ?” The boaster was silenced : nor
was there one in the room who envied
him his feelings.
(f) SOCRATES AND ALCIBL
ADES.——-One day, when Alcibiades
was boasting of his wealth and the great
estates he had in possession, which gen-
erally feed the pride of young people
of high rank Socrates carried him to a
geographical map, and asked him to find
Attica. It could scarcely be perceived
upon the draught; he found it, how-
ever, though with much difliculty ; but
upon being desired to point out his own
estate there, “It is too small,” said he,
“ to be distinguished in so little a
space.” “See, then,” replied the phi
42
657
33'?
PRIDE.
_--J ~vI ‘


losopher, “how much you are affected
about an imperceptible point of land I”
g) AFFECTED HUMILITY AND
REAL PRIDE. — Thomas a Becket,
who was afterwards primate of England,
was a strange compound of affected
humility and real pride. While be per-
formed the lowly office of washing the
feet of thirteen beggars every morning,
his supercilious, obstinate, and turbulent
spirit assumed a proud, overbearing,
spiritual authority over his sovereign,
whom he was in the habit of treating
with all the insolence of a licensed
censor.
(it) THE BOASTER BECOMING
AN IDIOT.—Simon Tournay affords
a memorable and affecting proof of the
truth of that scripture, “ Professing
themselves to be wise, they became
fools.” In 1201, after he had excelled
all Oxford in learning, and had become
so eminent at Paris as to be made chief
doctor of the Sorbonne, he was so puffed
up with foolish pride as to hold Aris-
totle superior to Moses and Christ, and
Vet but equal to himself. In his latter
days, however, he grew such an idiot
as not to know one letter in a book, or
to remember one thing he had ever
done.
TRIUMPHING BEFORE THE
BATTLE.—“ Nothing,” says Bishop
Horne, “ can be got, but much may be
lost, by triumphing before a battle.
When Charles V invaded France, he
lost his generals and a great part of his
army by famine and disease; and re-
turned baffled and thoroughly mortified
from an enterprise which he began with
such confidence of its happy issue that
his’ desired Paul Jovius, the historian, to
make a large provision of paper suffi-
cient to record the victories which he
was going to acquire.”
THE GAY GIRL’S DEATH.-
A young lady, eighteen years of age,
in the city of N ew-York, was brought
up by her parents in all the-gayety and
follies of youth; by them encouraged
to ornament her person, and engage in
every vain amusement. When she was
taken ill, three physicians were sent for
immediately, who pronounced her to be
near her dying hour. No sooner was
their opinion made known to her, than

she requested as a favor, that all he!
gay companions might be collected with
haste. They were seen around her
bed, when she told them she was going
to die--described the awful manner in
which they had spent their precious
time, and exhorted them all to repent-
ance before it was too late, in a very
affecting manner. She then, turning
to her father and mother, addressed to
them, in the presence of her acquaint-
ances, these heart-rending words: “ You
have been the unhappy instruments of
my being; you fostered me in pride,
and led me in the paths of sin; you
never once warned me of my danger,
and new it is too late. In a few hours
you will have to cover me with earth ;
but remember, while you are casting
earth upon my body, my soul will be
in hell, and yourselves the cause of my
misery I” She soon after expired.
(It) FINE CLOTHES AND THE
DEATH-BED.--A young lady, about
twenty years of age, had been born to
a rich inheritance, and was the only
child of parents who were exceedingly
fond of her. Nothing was spared to
complete her education, as a lady of
fashion. As she grew up she answered
all her mother’s hopes in making a dis-
play in the fashionable world. But the
hour of sickness came—it was a dread-
ful hour, for it was the termination of
all her hopes. The minister was called
in. He talked of death, judgment, and
eternity. She had never heard such
language addressed to her, and she
trembled. In her dying hour, she call-
ed for some of her fine clothes. When
they were brought, she looked up to her
mother, and said, “These have ruined
me. You never told me I must die.
You taught me that my errand into
this world was to be gay and dressy,
and to enjoy the vanities of life. What
could you mean’.Z You knew I must
die and go to judgment. You never told
me to read tne Bible, or to go to church,
unless to make a display of some new
finery. Mother, you have ruined me.
Take them away, and keep them as a
remembrance of your sin, and my sad
end.” She died in a few moments
after.
‘558
PROFANTTY.
338,339
PROFANITY.
838. Pmtanity Sinful.
(a) SWEARING AT A CHILD
FOR SWEARING.—A profane father
in one of the New England States, one
day learned that his little son had ut-
tered some blasphemous expressions-—
doubtless a second edition of his own.
But the father had no fancy for having
his child coming forward so fast in his
own footsteps. He called the child to
account for his vicious conduct——re-
proved him severely for his profanity,
and then commenced whipping him and
scolding him at the time. Vihile whip-
ping his son for his profanity, he swore
several profane oaths himself!
(12) THE PEASANT’S QUERY.
-—An elector of Cologne (who was like-
wise an archbishop) one day swearing
profanely, asked a peasant, who seemed
to wonder, what he was so surprised at.
“ To hear an archbishop swear,” an-
swered the peasant. “ I swear,” re-
plied the elector, “ not as an archbishop,
but as a prince.” “But, my lord,”
said the peasant, “ when the prince
goes to the devil, what will become of
the archbisho '2”
(0) HOWARD’S OPINION.-—As
he was standing one day near the door
of a printing-oflice, he heard some dread-
ful volleys of oaths and curses from a
public house opposite, and buttoning his
pocket up before he went into the street,
he said to the workmen near him, “I
always do this whenever I hear men
swear, as I think that any one who can
take God’s name in vain can also steal,
or do any thing else that is bad.”
((1) RCMAINE’S REPROOF.—-
The Rev. VVilliam Romaine, of London,
1n crossing the Black Friar’s bridge,
came up with a man who, in a style of
unusual and fearful impiety, called up-
on (lad “ to damn his soul for Christ’s
sake!" Mr. Romaine, laying his hand
upon the bla.sphemer’s shoulder, said:
“ ]lIy_friend, God has done many filings
for (‘hrist’s sake, and perhaps he will
do rnnr too ;” and passed on. The
roof, quite as original as the impre-

cation, went to the wretch’s heart; and
was the occasion of his “turning from
the power of Satan unto God,” and be-
coming an exemplary follower of that
Redeemer whom he had been in the
habit of insulting. “ A word spoken in
due season, how good is it !” The
power of Jesus to save, how mighty‘
His grace, how free!
339. Profanity Rebuked, Suppressed,
Abandoned.
(a) ROWLAND HILL ARD THE
CAPTAIN .—Once when I was return-
ing from Ireland, says Rowland Hill, I
found myself much annoyed by the re-
probate conduct of the captain and mate,
who were both sadly given to the scan-
dalous habit of swearing. First, the
captain swore at the mate—then the
mate swore at the captain——then they
both swore at the wind--when I called
to them with a strong voice for fair play.
“ Stop! stop I” said I, “if you please,
gentlemen, let us have fair play: it’s
my turn now.” “At what is it your
turn, pray '2” said the captain. “ At
swearing,” I replied. Well, they wait-
ed and waited until their patience was
exhausted, and then wanted me to make
haste and take my turn. Itold them,
however, that I had a right to take my
own time, and swear at my own conve-
nience. To this the captain replied,
with a laugh, “ Perhaps you don’t mean
to take your turn Cl” “ Pardon me,
captain,” I answered, “ but I do, as
soon as I can find the good of doing so.”
My friends, I did not hear another oath
on the voyage.
(I2) MR. CLARK AND HIS
VVORKMEN.—-Mr. A. Clark, of Edin-
burgh, was accustomed, previous to en-
gaging a workman, to put this question
directly to him, “ Are you a swearer
in common conversation ‘Z for if you are,
you shall not work with 1ne. I am
determined to permit none in my shop
to take the sacred name of God in vain,
before whose presence angels bow down
and adore.”
6-50
339
PROFANITY.
(C) THE MERCHANT AND HIS
‘ CAPTAIN.—A merchant in one of our
seaports, on fitting out a ship for India,
told the captain, at the time of making
the contract for the voyage, that there
must be no swearing among the crew ;
that he (the captain) must engage not
to swear himself, nor permit others to
be profane; that he must do as he
pleased, with respect to taking com-
mand of the ship on these terms; but
if he accepted the employment, it would
be expected, that he should rigidly ad-
here to the stipulation, and that it should
be known, as the law of the ship,"that
no profaneness should be indulged.
The captain seemed to have no objec-
tion to reforming, but inquired, “ How
can I suddenly break off an inveterate
habit ?” “ I will take care that you be
reminded of your duty,” said the owner.
“ VVear the ring that I will give you,
and let the law of the vessel be expli-
citly known."7 Accordingly he pro-
cured a ring for the captain, with this
motto engraved upon it, “ SWEAR NOT
AT ALL.” The vessel soon sailed, and
after performing the voyage returned
to the seaport from whence he sailed.
On being inquired of respecting the
subject, the supercargo declared, that
there had been no profaneness on board
excepting a little within the first twenty
days after sailing. At the close of this
short period, the old habit was entirely
destroyed; and during the remainder
of the voyage, both in sea and in port,
the success of the experiment was com-
lete.
This single fact is of inestimable va-
lue, and it shows how groundless are
the palliations of profaneness, and how
easy it is to do good, when a person is
seriously engaged in it, is influenced
by principle, and acts with decision.
(d) THE CAPTAIN’S REQUEST.
-—“ My lads,” said a captain, when
about to take command of a ship, read-
ing his orders to the crew on the quar-
ter-deck, “ there is one law I am deter-
mined to make, and I shall insist on its
being kept. It is a favor, indeed, I
will ask of you, and which, as a Brit-
ish officer, I expect will be granted by
a crew of British seamen. What say
you, my lads '2 are you willing to grant

___A
___w
your new captain one favor '2” “Ay
ay, ” cried all hands, “ let’s know what
it is, sir.” “ Well, my lads, it it this:
that you must allow me to swear the
first oath in this ship. No man on
board must swear an oath before I do :
I a1n determined to swear the first oath
on board. What say you, my lads,
will you grant me this favor ?” The
men stared, and stood for a momen'
quite at a loss what to say. “The
were taken,” one said, “all aback. ’
“ They were brought up,” said another,
“all standing.” The appeal seemed
so reasonable, and the manner of the
captain so kind and prepossessing, that
a general burst from the ship’s com-
pany answered, “Ay, ay, sir,” with
their usual three cheers. Swearing
was thus wholly abolished in the ship.
(6) COLONEL GARDINER PUT-
TING DOWN PROFANITY.—Dur-
ing Colonel Gardiner’s residence at
Bankton, the Commander of the King’s
forces, with several colonels and gentle-
men of rank, one day dined with him.
VVhen the company assembled, he ad-
dressed them with a great deal of re-
spect, and yet with a very frank and
determined air, and told them that he
had the honor in that district to be a
Justice of the Peace, and, consequent-
ly, that he was sworn to put the laws
in execution, and, among the rest, those
against swearing; that he could not
execute upon others with any confi-
dence, or approve himself as a man of
impartiality and integrity to his own
heart, if he suffered them to be broken
in his presence by persons of any rank
whatever; and that, therefore, he en-
treated all the gentlemen who then
honored him with their company, that
they would please to be on their guard ;
and that if any oath or curse should
escape them, he hoped they would con-
sider his legal animadversion upon it
as a regard to the duties of his office,
and dictates of his conscience, and not
as any want of deference to them.
The commanding officer immediately
supported him in this declaration, as
entirely becoming the station in which
he was, assuring him he would be
ready to pay the penalty if he inad,
vertently transgressed ; and when Col-
660
PROFANITY REBUKED, SUPPRESSED, ABANDONED.
333
onel Gardiner on any occasion stepped
out of the room, he himself undertook
to be the guardian of the law in his
absence 5 and, as one of ‘the inferior
oflicers offended during this time, he
informed the colonel, so that the fine
was exacted and given to the poor, with
the approbation of the company.
(f) THE TRAVELER AND THE
SAILOR.—-From the tract entitled
“ The Christian Traveler, ” (one of the
most interesting and profitable tracts
ever published,) we take the following
scene which transpired on board a ves-
sel on one of the western lakes. The
young man, a mechanic, and the hero
of the scene, had, at the breakfast table,
with almost inimitable Wisdom and pro-
priety, obtained leave of the captain to
attempt to put an end to the profanity
of the sailors, one of the best means to
reprove the captain himself for his own
sin in this respect.‘ Mark the manner
in which the attempt was executed.
“As soon as breakfast was over,
the oldest and most profane of the sail-
ors seated himself on the quarter-deck
to smoke his pipe. The young man
entered into conversation with him,
and soon drew from him a history of
the adventures of his life. From his
boyhood, he had followed the ocean.
He had been tossed on the billows in
many a tempest; had visited several
missionary stations in different parts
of the world, and gave his testimony
to the good effects of missionary efforts
among the natives of the Sandwich
Islands. Proud of his nautical skill,
he at length boasted that he could do
any thing that could be done by a sail-
or.
‘ I doubt it,’ said the young man.
“I can,’ answered the hardy tar,
‘ and will not be outdone, my word for
it.’
‘ I/Vell, when a sailor passes his
word he ought to be believed. I know
a sailor who resolved to stop swear-
mg 5 and did so.’
‘Ah I’ said the old sailor, ‘you
have anchored me ; I’m fast—but I can
do it.’
‘I know you can,’ said the young
man, ‘ and Ihope you will anchor all
your ship-mates’ oaths with your» ’

“ N ot a word of profanity was after.
wards heard on board the vessel. Dur-
ing the day, as opportunity presented
itself, he conversed with each sailor
singly, on the subject of his soul’s sal-
vation, and gained the hearts of all. ”
(g) AN OLD MAN’S REBUKE.——
A good old man was once in company
With a gentleman, who occasionally in-
trod uced into conversation the words
“ devil, deuce,” etc., and who, at last,
took the name of God in vain. “ Stop,
sir,’ ’ said the old man, “ I said nothing
whila you only used freedoms \\ th the
name of your own master, but Iinsist
upon it that you shall use no freedoms
with the name of mine.”
(h) SLAVE CURING HIS MAS-
TER.—An American planter had a
favorite domestic negro, who was order-
ed to stand opposite to him and to wait
at table. His master was a profane
person, and often took the name of God
in vain. Whenever he did so, the ne-
gro made a low and solemn bow. On
being asked why he did this, he replied,
that he never heard this great name men-
tioned, but it filled his whole soul with
reverence and awe. His master took the
hint without offence, and was reclaimed
from a very sinful and pernicious prac-
tice by his pious slave. The poorest
Christian may thus be encouraged in
the faithful discharge of duty. A word
spoken in due season, how good is it I”
(i) GEORGE III AND THE AR-
CHITECT.—A pious architect, having
some business with his majesty George
III, attended at one of his palaces, and
was shown into a room where a noble-
man afterwards eame, and used much
impious and blasphemous language, for
which the gentleman felt it his duty to
rebuke him. The peer became very
angry, so that the king came into the
room to inquire the cause of the noise,
when the nobleman informed him that
he had been insulted by the other per-
son 5 but upon the architect explaining
that he only rebuked him for profane-
ness and blasphemy, his majesty said,
he had his approbation for what he had
done, as he did not allow blasphemy in
his dwelling. He afterwards desired
the architect to sit down, to forget his
royalty, and freely tell him the ground
661
339, 340
PROFAl\‘ [T Y.
of his hope of salvation, which he stated
to be the sacrifice and work of the
Lord Jesus Christ. The king said, that
also was the ground of his dependence.
WASHINGTON’S OPINION.
--“ Many and pointed orders have been
issued against the unmeaning and abo-
minable custom of swearing; notwith-
standing which, with much regret, the
general observes that it prevails, (if pos-
sible,) more than ever. His feelings are
continually wounded by the oaths and
impreeations of the soldiers, whenever
ac is in hearing of them. The name of
that Being, from whose bountiful good-
ness we are permitted to exist and enjoy
the comforts of life is incessantly im-
precated and profaned, in a manner as
wanton as it is shocking. For the sake,
therefore, of religion, decency, and or-
der, the general hopes and trusts that
officers of every rank will use their
influence and authority to check a vice
which is as unprofitable as wicked and
shameful. If officers would make it an
inviolable rule to reprimand, and (if that
won’t do) to punish soldiers for offences
of this kind, it would not fail of having
the desired effect.”
(It) YVREN AND HIS WORKMEN.
-VV hen this eminent architect was
uilding St. Paul’ s Cathedral, he caused
the following notice to be aflixed to seve-
ral parts of the structure :—“ ‘Whereas
among laborers and others, that ungodly
custom of swearing is so frequently
heard, to the dishonor of God and con-
tempt of his authority ; and to the end
that such impiety may be utterly
oanished from these works, which are
intended for the service of God, and the
honor of religion ; it is ordered that
irofane swearing shall be a suflicient
crime to dismiss any laborer that comes
to the call; and the clerk of the works,
upon a sufficient proof, shall dismiss
him accordingly: and if any master,
working by task, shall not, upon ad-
monition, reform the profanation among
his apprentices, servants, and laborers,
it shall be construed his fault, and he
shall be liable to be censured by the
commissioners.”
(7) THE SWEARER AND HIS
BOY.——A man in the state of New-
York, who was extremely addicted to

_-_ ~
profane swearing, was one day at worn
with a yoke of oxen near his house
The oxen not working to suit him, he
began whipping them severely, at the
same time uttering vollies of most her-.
rid blasphemous oaths. The oxen
breaking loose from their burthen, ran
to the house, while the owner in a pas-
sion pursued them, and coming up with
them at the house, began whipping them
again, and swearing horridly as before.
His little boy, at this time just old
enough to begin to talk, began to prattle
his profane oaths over after him. No
sooner did the father hear this, than his
feelings were wrought up to a lively
sensibility, He paused for a moment,
dropt his whip, sat down and wept bit-
terly. A flood of keen rei ections at
once rushed upon his convicted con-
science, which produced such an effect,
that he found no rest to his mind, day
nor night, until his sins were forgiven
and washed away in the blood of Christ,
which took place a few weeks after-
wards.
(m) CHRYSOSTOM’S DIREC.
TION.--Chrysostom proposes a singu-
lar method to facilitate the leaving off
this practice of customary swearing.
“ Would’st thou know,” says the father,
“ by what means thou may’st be rid of
this wicked custom of swearing, I’ll tell
thee a way, which if thou’lt take, will
certainly prove successful. Every time,
whenever thou shalt find thyself to have
let slip an oath, punish thyself for it by
missing the next meal. Such a course
as this, though troublesome to the flesh,
will be profitable to the spirit ; and cause
a quick amendment; for the tongue
will need no other monitor to make
it take heed of swearing another time,
if it has been thus punished with
hunger and thirst for its former trans-
gression, and knows it shall be so pun-
ished agaim if ever it commits the like
crime hereafter.”
340. Profanity, Punishment of.
((1) SUDDEN VENGEANOE.-
There was, in a populous Swiss village,
a pious and excellent clergyman, who
preached and lived with such holy zeal
and exemplary piety, that many were
662
PROFANITY P1 NISHMENT OF.
340
converted under his ministry. But
there lived in the same place a wicked
and abandoned man, who not only
slighted all the means of grace, tut
turned the most serious matters ‘into
ridicule, and made a laughing-stock of
the preacher’s expressions. One morn-
ing, he went early to the public house,
and began to intoxicate himself with
liquor, profaning the name and word
of God, and ridiculing the term conver-
sion. “ Now,” said he, “I myself will
become a convert,” turning himself
from one side to the other, and dancing
about the room with a variety of foolish
gestures. He quickly went out, and
falling down the stairs, broke his neck,
and expired, exhibiting an awful monu-
ment of God’s most righteous vengeance,
which sometimes, even in this life,
overtakes those that profane his holy
name.
(b) THE COAL MERCHANT’S
DEATH.—A coal merchant at Brigg,
in Lincolnshire, had occasion to send a
boat to Barton, with a cargo of coals,
and ordered one of his men to take
charge of it. As the boat was leaving
the wharf, a person civilly accosted the
man, asking where he was going. “ I
am going to hell,” said he, with an oath.
Awful to relate, he died suddenly, be-
fore he reached Barton l
(c) THE LAST OATH.—Two
soldiers, at Chatham, (Eng.) once laid
a trifling wager which could swear
most oaths. After one of them had
uttered many shocking ones, he hesi-
tated a short time, and said, he could
think of one more, which should be his
last, but was instantly struck speechless,
and so remained for about three hours,
when he died. His body was, by order
of his oflicers, made a public spectacle

to the populace, sol-diers, and sailors, as
a warning to them.
((1) DEATH FROM PROFANITY
AND AN GER.——A person of consider-
able property and eminence in the city
of N , who lived in habits of impiety
and profaneness, was seized by an in-
disposition, which induced him to call a
medical gentleman; but being disap-
pointed for a time, by his absence from
home, he fell into a violent agitation,
which was vented in horrid impreca-
tions. As soon as the medical gentle-
man arrived, he was saluted with a
volley of oaths. The violence of his
agitation broke a blood-vessel ; so that
oaths and blood continued to flow from
his mouth, till he could speak no longer;
and in this situation he expired.
(e) THE INTOXICATED HORSE-
MAN .—The following event, says a
correspondent of the Charleston Intel-
ligencer, occurred in my native town:
A young man, about twenty years of
age, of the name of G , on a public
day, being somewhat intoxicated, rode
down the main street with considerable
rapidity, and meeting a friend, he reined
in his horse, which was skittish, in
order to converse with him. Not many
words had passed, when the young
man’s friend requested him to turn
about and go with him to the “North
Woods.” “I’ll go to hell first!” was
the reply. The words hardly escaped
his lips, when his horse suddenly reared
himself on his hind legs, and pitching
backwards, fell on his rider, and crush-
ed him to death! He was taken up a
corpse, and carried into an adjoining
house, where I saw him. He was
taken at his word! Oh! where is his
soul l


008
341
PROVIDEN CE.
PROVIDENCE.
11*’ BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
PRESERVING LIFE. .
By the Control (y'Material and Anzmal
Agencies.
341. Preserving from Fires, Famines, and
Similar Dangers.
(a) PREACHING DURING A
PLAGUE-—The great plague in Lon-
don, in the year 1665, gave occasion
for the display of the piety and zeal of
several of the ejected ministers, and
of the providence of God in preserving
them from the contagion, when prose-
cuting their ministerial labors in the
midst of it. The Rev. Thomas Vin-
cent was at this period tutor of an
academy at Islington, but determined to
leave his situation, and devote himself
to the spiritual instruction of the people
in London, where many of the pulpits
were deserted. His friends vainly en-
deavored to dissuade him from the dan-
gerous enterprise. He agreed, how-
ever, to follow the advice of his rever-
end brethren in and about the city.
When they were assembled, he told
them his resolution, and assured them
that it had been the result, of much se-
rious thought. He had carefully ex-
amined the state of his own soul, and
could look death in the face with com-
fort. He thought it absolutely neces-
sary that the vast numbers of people
then dying, should have some spiritual
assistance, and that he could never
again have such a prospect of ministeri-
al usefulness as now presented itself.
He added, that he had solemnly devoted
himself to God and souls upon this oc-
casion; and that, therefore, he hoped
none of them would endeavor to weak-
en his hands in this work. Encour-
aged by the ministers, who prayed for
his protection and success, he entered
on his labors with fortitude and dili-
geace. Durmg all the time of the
plague, he preached every Sabbath in
some of the parish churches. fit chose

the most moving and important subjects,
and treated them in the most pathetic
and searching manner. The awfulness
of the judgment then before the eyes of
all, gave great force to his addresses,
and a very general inquiry was always
made where he would preach the next
Sabbath. Many learned from him the
necessity of salvation, and the way to
heaven through the blood of Christ. He
visited all who sent for him, and it
pleased God to take especial care of
his life; for though in this year there
died in London, of the plague, 68,596,
including seven persons in the family in
which he lived, he continued in perfect
health all the time, and was a useful
minister to a numerous congregation at
I-Ioxton for upwards of twelve years
afterwards. Thus were the promises
in the ninety-first Psalm fulfilled to this
servant of God.
(l2) ESCAPE FROM AN EARTH.
QUAKE.—The following epitaph is
said to have been copied from a tomb,
in the vicinity of Port Royal, Jamai-
ca :-—
“ Here lieth the body of Louis CAL-
DY, Esq., a native of Montpelier, in
France, which country he left on ac-
count of the revocation. He was
swallowed up by the earthquake which
occurred at this place in 1692, but, by
the great providence of God, was, by a
second shock, flung into the sea, where
he continued swimming till rescued by
a boat, and lived forty years after-
wards.”
How wonderful are the judgments of
God, and his ways “ past finding out.”
(c) REV. T. RABAN’S ESCAPES.
—During the life of this worthy man,
who was a Christian minister for many
years at Yardley Hastings, England, he
was several times preserved from threat-
ened death. On one occasion, being in
an unfinished building two stories
high, his foot slipped, and he fell to the
ground upon an axe the edge of which
stood upright: it cut his hat but not his
head, and he suffered but little injury.
664
IN BESTOWIN G TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
341

At another time, a large piece of tim-
ber, on which he had set his foot, heav-
ed up, and fell with him into a saw-pit,
and an anvil of a hundred pounds
Weight connected with it, fell upon him,
but it only slightly bruised his leg. A
still more remarkable preservation was
afforded him. As he was assisting in
raismg a beam in a mill, the rope slip-
ed, and the beam under which he
stood fell with him the height of four
stories, and yet he was saved. And,
once more : he was driving a team with
a load of hay down a narrow lane;
when, attem ting to pass on to the
other side of t e wagon, he fell, and was
thrown under one of the wheels; but
calling out to the horses, they instantly
stopped.
But while God thus preserves the
lives of his servants, that they may ac-
complish his designs, he often removes
them in a way not expected, when these
designs are accomplished. Mr. Raban
was to learn by experience the truth
of his friend Cowper’s statement :
“ Safety consists not in escape
From dangers of a frightful shape ;
An earthquake may be bid to re
The man that’s strangled by aihr.”
After preaching one Lord’s day, and
walking home, his foot slipped over a
pebble, and he broke his leg, which in
a few weeks brought on his death.
((1) THE LOST AND FOUND.—
A youth, sixteen years of age, the
son of a respectable Christian minister,
was bathing some years ago in the
river Mersey. The tide was return-
ing, and having ventured too far into
the water for the purpose of swimming,
he was carried down the current to the
distance of three or four miles. All
hope of reaching the shore vanished;
and, at the moment he was about to
give up the struggle, he was providen-
tially perceived by the crew of a ves-
sel bound from Liverpool to Dublin.
VVhen brought on board, every means
was kindly used to restore nature : the
youth recovered, and was carried to the
port of the Irish capital. In the mean-
time, a porsan to whom he was known,
and who lt ad seen him go into the
Water,retu1ning, and finding his clothes

on the shore, but seeing nothing of his
person, concluded he was drowned, and
carried the afflictive intelligence to his
parents. A reward was offered for the
body, and suitable mourning was order-
ed.
On the arrival of the vessel at Dub-
lin, the youth was humanely furnished,
by the crew, with such articles of cloth-
ing as they could spare ; and the cap-
tain gave h 1.1 a piece of silver, and
put him on shere. The singularity oi
his dress restrained him from making
known his situation to those who, from
respect to his father, would gladly have
rendered him assistance. He therefore
inquired for a vessel bound to Liver-
pool, and having providentially met
with one, was received on board, and
reached the place of his destination on
the very day of the following week that
he was supposed to have been lost. No
sooner did he get on shore than he
hastened to his father’s house. Noth-
ing could have been more unexpected
to the sorrowing parents than the ap-
pearance of their son. The mourning
which they had ordered was, that eve-
ning, to be brought home, and worn on
the following day. The children, at
the sight of their brother, shrieked witl‘.
fear : the surprise was too great for the
delicate frame of his affectionate moth-
er ; before she could embrace her son,
she fainted away; and the father, more
collected and composed, wept tears of
oy.
J (6) THE \VALDENSES AND THE
WHEAT.-—It is well known, that, in
the year 1686, the Duke of Savoy was
prevailed on by Louis XIV to expel
the YValdensian Christians from their
native valleys. In 1689, eight 01 nine
hundred of these persons. through great
difficulties, returned. Dr. Calamy, in
his “ Life and Times,” relates, that M.
Arnauld, their minister and leader, told
him that when they had nearly reached
their houses, pursued by a number of
their enemies, they were in great danger
of dying from want of provisions. Such,
however, was the kindness of God to
them, that a sudden thaw removed in
one night a mass ‘of snow from the
fields, when they discovered a consi-
derable quantity of wheat, standing in
665
341
PROVIDENCE.
the earth, ready for the sickle, that had
been suddenly covered with snow, and
which now as unexpectedly left it. On
this corn they lived till other sources
supplied them with food.
MISSIONARY AND THE
SEAL.—-Nathaniel, an assistant to the
Moravian missionaries in Greenland,
when engaged in the seal-fishery, being
in company with another brother, who
was yet inexperienced in the manage-
ment of a kayak (a Greenland boat),
he met a Neitsersoak, the largest kind
of seal, which he killed. He then dis-
covered his companion on a flake of
ice, endcavoring to kill another of the
same species, and in danger; he, there-
fore, left his dead seal, kept buoyant by
the bladder, and hastened to help his
brother. They succeeded in killing
the seal; but suddenly a strong north
wind arose, and carried off both the
kayaks to sea; nor could they discover
any kayaks in the neighborhood. They
cried aloud for help, butin vain. Mean-
while the wind rose in strength, and
carried both the kayaks, and also the
piece of ice, swiftly along with the
waves. Having lost sight of the kayaks,
they now saw themselves without the
least hope of deliverance. Nathaniel
continued praying to his Savior, and
thought with great grief of the situation
of his poor family, but felt a small de-
gree of hope arising in his breast. Un-
expectedly, he saw his dead seal float-
ing towards him, and was exceedingly
surprised at its approaching against the
wind, till it came so near the flake of
ice, that they could secure it. But how
should a dead seal become the means
of their deliverance’! and what was
now to be done? All at once, Na-
thaniel resolved, at a venture, to seat
himself upon the dead floating seal;
am: by the help of his paddle, which he
had happily kept in his hand when he
join id his brother on the ice, to go in
quest of the kayaks. Though the sea
an; waves continually overflowed him,
yet he kept his seat, made after the
kayaks, and succeeded in overtaking
his own, into which he crept, and went
tn quest of that of his companion, which
he likewise found. He also kept pos-
session of the seal; and now hastened

in search of the flake of ice, on whicn
his companion was most anxiously look-
ing out for him ; having reached it, he
brought him his kayak, and 8h.\l)l8d
him to secure the other seal, when both
returned home in safety. When re-
lating his dangerous adventure, he
ascribed his preservation, not to his
own contrivance, but to the mercy of
God alone.
(g) THE FALLEN TREE.——About
the year 1830, while a young man of
the town of Wells, M aine, was at work
in the woods alone, he felled a tree
which struck a large log, lying up some
distance from the ground. When the
tree struck the log, the butt bounded,
struck the man, carried him some dis-
tance, plunged him into a deep snow,
and fell across his stomach, confining
him there. The log across which the
tree fell, served as a fulcrum, being
so near the middle of the tree as to pre-
vent it from lying so heavily upon him
as to give much immediate distress.
His feet were so completely confined
that he had no power to move them;
his hands being the only means with
which h could do -the least towards
extricati himself, which he used in
the best possible manner he was capa-
ble of; but he was utterly unsuccessful
in his efforts to raise the body of the
tree, or beating away the snow. Now
feeling in some degree that all hopes
of being delivered from that state of
confinement .also were vain, he cast his
eyes toward heaven, when he saw a
large limb, which had broken from the
tree while falling, suspended in the air
by the branch of another tree, and at
the distance of thirty or forty feet above
him, apparently directly over his head.
What must have been his feelings while
thus confined, and viewing that threat-
ening death hanging directly over him,
and expecting every moment it would
fall and termm ate his existence’.2
While he thus lay, with his eyes fas-
tened upon the limb, waiting for the re-
sult he thought must soon take place,
the twig by which it was suspended
gave way—--the limb fell and struck the
snow about one foot from his head.
He immediately 'tl'l(Llgl1't to use that as
a lever, by which to raise the tree;
666
IN BESTOWIN G TEMPORAL BLESSINGS
3-1!
the effort proved successful, and he
made his escape without any material
injury.
(It) WESLEY’S ESCAPE FROM
FIRE.-—-Mr. Wesley, father of the Rev.
John Wesley, was roused from sleep
by the cry of fire from the street; but,
little imagining that the fire was in his
own house, he opened his bedroom
door, and found the place full of smoke,
and that the roof was already burned
through. Directing his wife and two
girls to rise and flee for their lives, he
burst open the nursery-door, where the
maid was sleeping with five children.
She snatched up t.1e youngest, and
bade the others follow her . the three
eldest did so ; but John, who was then
six years old, was not awakened, and
in the alarm was forgotten. The rest
of the family escaped——some through
the windows, others by the garden
door; and Mrs. Wesley, to use her
own expression, “waded through the
fire.” At this time John, who had not
been remembered till that moment, was
heard crying in the nursery. The
father ran to the stairs, but they were
so nearly consumed that they could not
hear his weight; and being utterly in
lespair, he fell upon his knees in the
hall, and, in agony, commended the
soul of the child to God. John had
been awakened by the light; and find-
ing it impossible to escape by the door,
climbed up a chest that stood near the
window, and he was then seen from
the yard. There was no time for pro-
curing a ladder; but one man was
hoisted on the shoulders of another, and
thus he was taken out. A moment
after the roof fell in. ‘When the child
was carried out to the house where his
parents were, the father cried out,
“ Come, neighbors, let us kneel down ;
let us give thanks to God! He has
given me all my eight children: let
the house go, I am rich enough.” Mr.
Wesley remembered this providential
deliverance through life with the deep-
est gratitude.
(7') THE WIDOW AND THE
TURK.-—During the struggle of the
Greeks to regain their liberty, a body
of Turks were, in 1824, encamped in a
cart of Greece, and committed every

kind of outrage upon the inhabitants
One of these barbarians, an officer, hao
pursued a Greek girl, who took refuge
in the house of a widow. The widow
met him at the door, and mildly at.
tempted to dissuade him from forcing
his way in to seize the girl. Enraged,
he drew his sabre; but when in the
act of attempting to cut down the wi-
dow, it snapped in two pieces before
it reached the victim. The wretch
paused, yet drew a pistol, to accomplish
his purpose, but it missed fire; and
when in the act of drawing a second,
he was forcibly dragged away by one
of his companions, who exclaimed, “ Le‘
her alone. Do not you see that he
time is not yet come '2” Resolved, how-
ever, on taking some revenge, he car-
ried off her infant child to the camp ;
but, as though Providence designed to
frustrate all his designs on this occa-
sion, whilst he was asleep, the chilo
was carried back to the widow by one
of his own men.
THE MARTYR SAVED.——It
is related, in the memoirs of the cele-
brated I/Villiam Whiston, that a Pro-
testant, in the days of Queen Mary, of
the name of Barber, was sentenced to
be burned. He walked to Smithfield,
was bound to the stake, the fagots were
piled around him, and the executioner
only waited the word of command to
apply the torch. At this crisis, tidings
came of the queen’s death; the officers
were compelled to stay proceedings till
the pleasure of Elizabeth should be
known; and thus the life of the good
man was spared, to labor, with some of
his descendants, successfully in the
service of the Lord Jesus and his
church.
(It) THE SPANISH ARRIADA.-—
VVhen the Spaniards, on the defeat of
their Invincible Armada, stung with
disappointment, and wishing to detract
from the honor which our brave de-
fenders had acquired, exclaimed, that
the English had little reason to boast,
for if the elements had not fought against
them, they would certainly have con-
quered us ; the enlarged and vivid mind
of Queen Elizabeth improved the hint.
She commanded a medal to be struck,
representing the Armada scattered and
667
$42
PROVIDENCE.
sinking in the background ; and in the
front, the British fleet riding triumphant,
with the following passage as a motto
round the medal: “Thou didst blow
with thy wind, and the sea covered
them.” It becomes us to say in refer-
ence to this, as well as many other
national deliverances, “Blessed be the
Lord, who hath not given us as a prey
to their teeth.”
34%. Preserving from Porsooutors and other
Enonnos.
(a) JOACHIM AND THE WAL-
DENSES.—Maximilian, the emperor
of Germany, conversing one day in his
coach with Johannes Crate, who was
his principal physician, and a learned
Protestant, was lamenting the divisions
of Christians, and asked Crato which
party, in his opinion, approached the
nearest to apostolic simp icity. Crate
replied, that he thought that honor be-
longed to the brethren called Picards,
(these were also called Waldenses and
Albigenses.) The emperor said, “I
think so, too.” This being reported to
them, afforded them much encourage-
ment, and induced them to dedicate to
him a book of their devotions; for, du-
ring the preceding year, God had mar-
velously preserved him from the guilt
of their blood. Joachim, a Novo Dome,
chancellor of Bohemia, went to Vienna,
and would give the emperor no rest un-
til he proflured for him a mandate for
the revival of a former persecuting or-
dinance anainst them. Having obtained
his commission. as he was leaving Vi-
enna, and passing a bridge over the Da-
nube, the bridge gave way and fell; 1
when Joachim and all his retinue were
plunged into that great river; and all
were drowned except six horsemen and
one young nobleman, who perceiving
his lord in the water, caught hold of his
gold chain, andt held him up till some
fishermen came tp their assistance ; but
they found Joachim dead, and his box
containing the persecuting mandate had
sunk beyond recovery. The young no-
bleman was so affected by the hand of
God in this affair,‘ that he joined the
brethren in their religion, and the per-
secution dropned.

_ __._-g
(12) THE MERCHANT AND TI-I1E
CRIMINAL.--A gentleman in an er.
tensive line of business, in a distant part
of the country, left his house with an
intention of going to Bristol fair; but,
when he had proceeded about half way,
he was taken ill, and detained several
days. As the fair by this time was in
a considerable degree over, he returned
home. Some years after, the same gen-
tleman, happening te be at the place
where the assizes for the county were
held, was induced to be present at the
execution of a criminal. While he was
mixed with the crowd, the criminal per.
ceived him, and expressed a desire to
speak with him. On the gentleman
approaching him, he asked, “Do you
recollect at such a time intending to be I
at Bristol fair '2” “ Yes, perfectly well.”
“ It is well that you did not go, for I and
several others, who knew that you had
a considerable sum of money about you,
had resolved to waylay and rob, and
then murder you, to prevent detection.”
(0) GILPIN’S FALL.—When this
zealous minister was on his way to Lon-
don, to be tried before the popish party,
he broke his leg by a fall, which put a
stop for so1ne time to his journey. The
person in whose custody he was, took
occasion from this circumstance to retort
upon him an observation he used fre-
quently to make, “That nothing hap-
pens to the people of God but what is
intended for their good;” asking him,
“ whether he thought his broken leg was
so.” He answered 1neekly, “I make
no question but it is.” And so it proved ;
for before he was able to travel, Queen
Mary died. Being thus providentially
preserved from probable death, he re-
turned to Houghton through crowds of
people, who expressed the utmost joy,
and blessed God for his deliverance.
(d) THE CHILD AND THE Ll-
ON .—-The Rev. John Campbell relates
a singular escape of a Bushman child
from being devoured by a lion. The
child was only four years of age, and
was sleeping beside its parents in a half
open hut. About midnight the child
awoke, and sat by a dull fire. The fa-
ther happening to awake about the same
time, looked at his child, and while
looking, a lion came to the opposite side
668
IN BES TOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
3 12, 343

of the fire. Tue child, ignorant of its
danger, was not afraid, but spoke to it,
and sportingly threw live cinders at it,
on which the lion snarled, and approach-
ed nearer, when the child seized a burn-
ing stick, and playfully thrust it into
its mouth, when the lion scampered off
as fast as it could run. The father wit-
nessed all this, but was afraid to inter-
fere, lest he, as well as his child, should
have been torn to pieces by the fero-
cious animal.
(6) THE CZAR AND THE NO-
BLEMAN’S DINNER.-Alexander
Menzikoff, who rose to the highest oth-
ces of state in Russia, during the reign
of Peter the Great, was born of parents
so excessively poor, that they could not
afford to have him taught to read and
write. After their death, he went to
Moscow to seek for employment, where
he found an asylum with a pastry-cook.
He had a very fine voice, and soon be-
came known in that great city, from the
musical tone of his cry when vending
his master’s pastry in the street. His
voice also gained him admission into the
houses of many noblemen ; and he was
fortunate enough one day to be in the
kitchen of a great lord with whom the
emperor was to dine. IVhile Menzikoif
was there, the nobleman came into the
kitchen, and gave directions about a
particular dish, to which he said the
emperor was very partial ; into this dish
he dropped (as he thought unperceived)
a powder. Menzikoff observed it, but
taking no notice, immediately left the
house; and when he saw the emperor’s
carriage coming, he began to sing very
loud. Peter, attracted by his voice,
called him, and bought all the pies he
had in his basket. He asked some
questions of Menzikoff, and was so much
pleased with his answers, that he com-
manded him to follow him to the noble-
man ’s house, and wait behind his chair.
The servants were surprised at this or-
der, but it proved of the greatest im-
portance to Peter; for when the noble-
man pressed his royal guest to take of
this favorite dish, his new servant gently
pulled him by the sleeve, and begged he
would not touch it till he had spoken to
him. The emperor immediately with-
drew with Menzikofi’, who informed his

__—_
imperial master of his suspicions. The
czar returned to the company, and sud-
denly turning to his host, pressed him
to partake of the favorite dish. Terri-
fied at this command, he said, “ It did
not become the servant to eat before his
master.” The emperor then offered it
to a dog, who greedily devoured its con-
tents, and shortly afterwards expired in
the gregtest torments I
843. Preserving from Animals or by means
of them.
(a) DU MOULIN AND THE SP1
DER.-—During the awful massacre at
Paris, by which so many Christians
were removed from the present world,
the celebrated Moulin crept into an oven,
over the mouth of which a spider in-
stantly wove its web; so that when the
enemies of the Christians inspected the
premises, they passed by the oven, with
the remark, that no one could have been
there for some days. So easily can the
blessed God devise means for the safety
of his servants!
The memoirs of the late Rev. E.
V‘/hite, of Chester, by the Rev. Dr.
Fletcher, of Stepney, relate a very sim.
ilar anecdote of one of the ancestors of
that pious and useful minister.
(Z2) A HEN SUPPORTING A
CHAPLAIN.—In the melancholy Bar
tholomew massacre, in France, for three
days every Protestant who could be
found was put to death. By order of
the king, Admiral de Coligny was mur-
dered in his own house, but Merlin, his
chaplain, concealed himself in a hay-
loft. It is recorded in the acts of the
next synod, of which he was a modera-
tor, that though many in similar circum-
stances died of hunger, he was sup-
ported by a hen regularly laying an
egg near his place of refuge.
(0) GRESHAM AND THE GRASS-
HOPPER.—-Sir Thomas Gresham, who
built the Royal Exchange in London,
was the son of a poor woman, who, while
he was an infant, abandoned him in a
field. By the providence of God, how-
ever, the chirping of a grasshopper at-
tracted a boy to the spot where the child
lay; and his life was, by this means,
preserved. After Sir Thomas had, by
669
343
PROVIDENCE.
_ f .

his unparalleled success as a merchant,
risen to the pinnacle of commercial
wealth and greatness, he chose a grass-
hopper for his crest; and becoming, un-
der Queen Elizabeth, the founder of the
Royal Exchange, his crest was placed
on the walls of the building in several
parts, and a vane, or weathercock, in
the figure of a grasshopper, was fixed
on the summit of the tower.
((1) THE EAGLE’S NES‘/*1‘ AND
THE CHlLD.—-Sir Robert Sibbald re-
lates, that a woman in the Orkney Isl-
ands, having left her child of about one
year old, in a field, while she went to
some distance, an eagle passing by took
up the infant by its clothes, and carried
it to her nest on a neighboring rock;
which being observed by some fisher-
men, they instantly pursued the eagle,
attacked her nest, and brought back the
child unhu_rt.
(e) THE HOTTENTOT AND
THE LION.-—In the year 1829, a
Hottentot, in South Africa, went out on
a hunting excursion, accompanied by
several other natives. Arriving on an
extensive plain, where there was abun-
dance of game, they discovered a num-
ber of lions, also, which appeared to be
disturbed by their approach. A pre-
digiously large male immediately se-
parated himself from the troop, and be-
gan slowly to advance towards the
party, the majority of whom were
young, and altogether unaccustomed to
rencontres of so formidable a nature;
the very appearance of the lion
made them tremble. While the ani-
mal was yet at a distance, they all dis-
mounted to prepare for firing ; and, ac-
cording to the custom on such occasions,
began tying their horses together by
means of the bridles, with the view of
keeping the latter between them and
the lion, to attract his attention, until
they were able to take deliberate aim.
His movements, however, were too
swift for them. Before the horses were
properly fastened to each other, the
monster made a tremendous bound or
two, and suddenly pounced upon the hind
parts of one of them ; which, in its fright,
plunged forward, and knocked down the
poor man who was holding the reins in
his hat 1d. His comrades instantly took

flight, and ran off with all their speed ;
and he, of course, rose as quickly as
possible, in order to follow them. But
no sooner had he regained his feet, than
the lion, with a seeming consciousness
of his superior might, stretched forth his
paw, and striking him just behi“d the
neck, immediately brought him to the
ground again. He then rolled on his
back, when the lion set his foot upon his
breast, and lay down upon him. Phe poor
man now became almost breathless, part-
ly from fear, but principally from the in-
tolerable pressure of his ‘errific load.
He endeavored to move a little to one
side, in order to breathe; but feeling
this, the lion seized his left arm, close
to the elbow, and continued to amuse
himself with the limb for some time,
biting it in different places down to the
hand, the thick part of which seemed to
have been pierced entirely through.
All this time the lion did not appear to
be angry, but merely caught at his
prey, like a cat sporting with a mouse
that is not quite dead; so that there
was not a single bone fractured, as
would in all probability have been the
case had the creature been hungry
or irritated. Whilst writhing in agony,
gasping for breath, and ex ecting every
moment to be torn limb from limb, the
sufferer cried to his companions for as-
sistance, but cried in vain. On raising
his head a little, the beast opened his
dreadful jaws to receive it, but provi-
dentially the hat slipped off, so that the
points of the teeth only just grazed the
surface of the skull. The lion now set
his foot upon the arm from which the
blood was freely flowing; his fearful
paw was soon covered with it, and he
again and again licked it clean! But
this was not the Worst ; for the animal
then steadily fixed his flaming eyes
upon those of the man; smelt on one
side, and then on the other, of his face ;
and, having tasted the blood, he appear-
ed half inclined to devour his helpless
victim. “ At this critical moment,”
said the poor man, “I recollected hav-
ing heard that there was a God in the
heavens, who was able to deliver at the
very last extremity, and I began to pray
that he would save me, and not allow
the lion to eat my flesh and drink mv
67')
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS
343
blood.” Whilst thus engaged in call-
mg upon God, the beast turned himself
completely round. On perceiving this,
the Hottentot made an effort to get from
under him 5 but no sooner did the crea-
ture observe his movement than he
took fast hold of his right thigh. This
wound was dreadfully deep, and occa-
sioned the sufferer most excruciating
pain. He again sent up his cry to God
for help 5 nor were his prayers in vain.
The huge animal soon afterwards quiet-
ly relinquished his prey, though he had
not been in the least interrupted. Hav-
ing risen from his seat, he walked
majestically off, to the distance of thirty
or forty paces, and then lay down in
the grass, as if for the purpose of watch-
ing the man. The latter being happily
relieved of his load, ventured to sit up,
which circumstance immediately at-
tracted the lion’s attention; neverthe-
less it did not induce another attack, as
the poor fellow naturally expected 5 but
as if bereft of power, and unable to do any
thing more, the lion again rose, took his
departure, and was seen no more. The
man seeing this, took up his gun, and
hastened away to his terrified com-
panions, who had given him up for
dead Being in a state of extreme ex-
haustion, from loss of blood, he was im-
mediately set upon his horse, carried
away, and by the use of suitable means,
soon recovered.
) THE SAILOR AND THE
CROCODILE.-Campbell, the sailor,
being at sea, felt, one evening when
near the shore, a disposition to bathe. His
companions would have dissuaded him
from it, as they had recently seen se-
veral sharks 5 but- being partly intoxi-
cated, he would not listen to their per-
suasions. Nearly as soon as he was
in the water, his companions saw an
alligator directing his course towards
him, and considered his escape from
death totally impossible. They fired
at the alligator, but in vain. Campbell
became aware of his danger, and im-
mediately made for the shore. On ap
preaching within a short distance of
some canes and shrubs that covered the
bank, and while closely pursued by the
alligator, a ferocious tiger sprung to-
wards him, at the rery instant he was

about being devoured by his first enemy.
At this awful moment he was preserv-
ed. The eager tiger overleaped him,
fell into the grasp of the alligator, and,
after a long struggle, was killed by
him. Campbell was conveyed to his
vessel, gratefully returned thanks to
Providence which had preserved him
and from that period a marked change
was observed in his character.
(g) RUGGLES AND THE IN-
DIANS.—-This worthy man, who was
an American minister, had a remark-
able preservation from death. VVhile
he was once preaching, a party of In-
dians came suddenly upon the congre-
gation, scattered them, and carried him
away into the forest. At night, he was
left under the charge of two women,
while the men went to rest; but his
female keepers, as well as the dogs,
falling asleep, he took the opportunity
to make his escape. He had not gone
far before he heard the alarm cry, and
the crashing of the bushes behind warn-
ed him that the enemy were already in
close pursuit of him. In his distress he
crept, with little hope of safety, into a
hollow tree, at whose foot there happen-
ed to be an opening, through which he
could squeeze his body, and stand up-
right within. The Indians soon rushed
by in full chase, without stopping to
search his retreat 5 and, what is more
extraordinary, their dogs had previous-
ly smelled about the root of the tree,
and ran forward without barking, as
though they had discovered nothing.
(h) THE TRAVELER AND THE
STRANGE DOG.—A gentleman, says
the London Methodist Magazine, travel-
ing in Cornwall, observed a strange dog
following him on the road, which, not-
withstanding every effort he used to
drive him back, claimed acquaintance
with him.
Being benighted in a lonely place, he
called at the first inn he met with, and
desired to be accommodated with a
room. After supper the gentleman re-
tired to rest. N o sooner had he opened
the door, than the before mentioned dog
rushed in. After some fruitless ef-
forts to drive the dog away, the gentle-
man permitted him to stay in the room;
thinking he could do .k.im no harm.
671
343
PROVIDENCE.
- .-._'---_ -u-_- _ _'I—
When the gentleman began to prepare
fbr bed, the dog ran to a closet door, and
then ran back to him, looking very
wistfully at him. This the dog did se-
veral times, which so far excited the
curiosity of the gentleman, that he open-
ed the closet door; and to his great
terror, saw a person laid with his throat
cut. Struck with horror, he began to
think of his own state. To attempt to
run away he supposed would be unsafe.
He therefore began to barricade the
door with the furniture of the room, and
laid himself on the bed with his clothes
on. About midnight two men came to
the door and requested admittance,
stating that the gentleman that slept
there the preceding night, had forgotten
something and was returned for it.
He replied, the room was his, and no
one should enter his room until morn-
ing. They went away, but soon return-
ed with two or three other men, and de-
manded entrance; but the gentleman,
with an austere voice, threatened if
they did not desist, he would defend
himself. Awed apparently by this bold
reply, they left him and disturbed him
no more.
In the morning he inquired for a
barber; one was immediately sent for,
when the gentleman took the opppor-
tunity of inquiring into the character of
his host. The barber replied, he was a
neighbor, and did not wish to say any
thing to his disadvantage. The gentle-
man still urged his inquiry, assuring
him he had nothing to fear, till the bar-
ber said, “Sir, if I must tell the truth,
they bear a very bad character, for it
has been reported, that persons have
called here, who have never been heard
of afterwards.” Can you, said the gen-
tleman keep a secret? On his answer-
ing in the affirmative, the gentleman
opened the closet door, and showed him
the person with his throat out; he then
directed the barber to procure a con-
stable, and proper assistance with all
speed, which was done immediately,
and the host and hostess were both
taken into custody, to take their trial at
the next assize. They took their trial
and were found guilty of the murder,
condemned and executed. The dog was
never seen by the gentleman afterwards.

ESCAPE FROM BUFFALOES
AND A PANTHER.-—Mr. Hunter. in
the narrative of his life among the
western Indians, says, “ In one of my
excursions, while seated in the shade of
a large tree, situated on a gentle de-
clivity, with a view to procure some
mitigation from the oppressive heat of
the noonday sun, I was surprised by a
tremendous rushing noise. I spran
up, and discovered a herd I believe of a
thousand buffaloes, running at full speed
directly towards me; as I supposed
to beat off the flies, which at this season,
inconceivably trouble some of those
animals.
“I placed myself behind the tree, so
as not to be seen, not apprehending any
danger, because they ran with too great
rapidity and too closely together, to
afford any one of them any opportunity
of injuring me while protected in this
manner. “The buffaloes passer‘ so
near me on both sides that I could have
touched several merely by extending my
arm. In the rear of the herd, was one
on which a huge panther had fixed, and
was voraciously engaged in cutting off
the muscles of its neck. I did not dis-
cover this circumstancetill it had nearly
passed beyond rifle shot distance, when
I discharged my piece and wounded the
panther. It instantly left its hold on the
buffalo, and bounded with great rapidity
towards me. On witnessing the result
of my shot, the apprehensions I suffered
can hardly be imagined. I had, however,
sufficient presence of mind to retreat,
and secrete myself behind the trunk
of the tree, opposite to its approaching di-
rection. I-Iere, solicitous for what possi-
bly might be the result of my unfortu-
nate shot, I prepared both my knife
and tomahawk, for whatl supposed a
dreadful conflict with this terrible
animal. In a few moments, however,I
had the satisfaction to hear it in the
branches of the tree over my head.
My rifle had just been discharged, and
I entertained fears that I could not re-
load it, without discovery, and yet ex-
posing myself to the fury of its destr uc-
tive rage. Ilooked into the tree with
the utmost caution, but could not ner-
ceive it, though its groans and vein-
geance-breathing growls, told me ttia
672
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
343
__‘.¢~—
it was not far off, and also what I had
to expect, in case it should discover me.
m this situation, with my eyes almost
constantly upwards to observe its mo-
tions, I silently loaded my rifle, and then
creeping softly round the tree, saw my
formidable enemy resting on a consider-
able branch ahout thirty feet from the
ground, with his side fairly exposed. I
was unobserved, took deliberate aim, and
shot it through the heart. It made a
single bound from the tree to the earth
and died in a moment afterwards.
(j) CHILD CARRIED AWAY B'
AN EAGLE.--A peasant with his wire
and three children, had taken up his
summer quarters in a chalet, and was
pasturing his flock on one of the rich
Alps which overhang the Durance.
The oldest boy was an idiot, about eight
years of age; the second was five years
old, and dumb; and the youngest was
an infant. It so happened, that the in-
fant was left one morning in charge of
his brothers, and the three had rambled
to some distance from the chalet before
they were missed. ‘When the mother
went in search of the little wanderers,
she found the two elder, but could dis-
cover no traces of the babe. The idiot
boy seemed to be in a transport of joy,
while the dumb child displayed every
symptom of alarm and terror. In vain
did the terrified parent endeavor to col-
lect what had become of the lost infant.
The antics of the one and the fright of
the other explained nothing. The dumb
boy was almost bereft of his senses,
while the idiot appeared to have acquir-
ed an unusual degree of mirth and ex-
pression. He danced about, laughed,
and made gesticulations as if he were
imitating the action of one who had
caught up something of which he was
fond, and hugged to his heart. This,
however, was some slight comfort to the
poor woman; for she imagined that
some acquaintance had fallen in with
the children, and had taken away the
infant. But the day and night wore
away and no tidings came of the lost
child On the morrow, when the pa-
rents were pursuing their search, an
eagle flew over their heads, at the sight
of which the idiot renewed his antics,
and the dumb boy clung to his father,

N
wi/th shrieks of anguish and affright.
The horrible truth then burst upon their
minds, that the miserable infant had
been carried off in the talons of a bird
of prey, and that the half-witted elder
brother was delighted at his riddance of
an object of whom he wasjealous.
On the morning on which the accident
happened, an Alpine yager,
“ Vihmejov was in the wilderness-—to breathe
The d1flicult air of the med mountam’s top,”
had been watching near an eagle’s seat,
under the hope of shooting the bird upon
her return to her nest. The yager,
waiting in all the anxious perseverance
of a true sportsman, beheld the eagle
slowly winging her way toward the
rock, behind which he was concealed.
Imagine his horror, when, upcr her
nearer approach, he heard the cries and
distinguished the figure of an infant in
her fatal grasp. In an instam his re-
solution Was formed—to fire at the bird
at all hazards, the moment she should
alight upon her nest, and rather to kill
the child, than leave it to be turn to
pieces by the horrid devourer. V\'ith a
silent prayer, and a steady aim, the
mountainer poised his rifle. '] ‘he ball
went directly through the head or h art
of the eagle, and in a minute aflerward,
the gallant hunter of the Alps had the
unutterable delight of snatching the child
from the nest, and bearing it away ll]
triumph. It was dreadfully vtounded
by the eagle in one of its arms and sides,
but not mortally; and, within twenty
four hours after it was first mis;ed, he
had the satisfaction of restoring it to its
mother’s arms.
(Ir) THE IMPORTUNATE IN-
TRUDER.—Sir Harry Lee, in Ditch-
long, in Oxfordshire, ancestor of the late
earl of Litchfield, had a mastifi~ which
guarded the house and yard, but had
never met with the least particular at-
tention from his master, and was retain-
ed for his utility only, and not from
any particular regard. One night as
his master was retiring to his chamber,
attended by his faithful valet, an Italian,
the mastitf silently followed him up
stairs, which he had never been known
to do before, and to his master’s aston_
ishment, presented himself in his bed-
43
673
343,344
PROVIDENCE.
room. Being deemed an intruder, he
was instantly ordered to be turned out;
which being complied with, the poor
animal began scratching violently at
the door, and howling loudly for admis-
sion. The servant was sent to drive
him away. Discouragement could not
check his labor of love, or rather provi-
dential impulse ; he returned again, and
was more importunate than before to be
let in. Sir Harry, weary of opposition,
bade the servant open the door, that they
might see what he would do. This
done, the mastiff, with a wag of his tail,
and a look of affection at his lord, delib-
erately walked up, and crawling under
the bed, laid himself down as if desirous
of taking up his night’s lodging there.
To save farther trouble, but not from
any partiality for his company, the in-
dulgence was allowed. About the hour
of midnight the chamber door opened,
and a person was heard stepping across
the room. Sir Harry started from his
sleep; the dog sprung from his covert,
and, seizing the unwelcome disturber,
fixed him to the spot I All was dark,
and Sir Harry rung his bell in great
trepidation, in order to procure a light.
The person who was pinned to the floor
by the courageous mastiff roared for
assistance. It was found to be the va-
let, who little expected such a reception.
He endeavored to apologize for his in-
trusion, and to make the reasons which
induced him to take the step appear
plausible; but the importunity of the
dog, the time, the place, and the man-
ner of the valet, all raised suspicion in
Sir Harry’s mind, and be determined to
refer the investigation of the business to
a magistrate. The perfidious Italian,
alternately terrified by the dread of
punishment, and soothed with the hope
of pardon, at length confessed that it
was his intention to murder his master,
and then rob the house. This diaboli-
cal design was frustrated only by the
dog, who had perhaps providentially
overheard some expressions in soliloquy
or conversation, from the valet, respect-
ing his contemplated crime.
(Z) KICHERER AND THE AS-
SASSIN.-—This name will remind the
reader of the first Missionary to the Af-
rican Hottentots. During his early

__~‘\ \

residence among them, he was ViS1l8d
by a man who had been sentenced at
the Cape of Good Hope to death, but
had effected his escape ; and who,
making great pretensions to religion,
imposed on Mr. K. and induced him to
receive him into his house. He slept
in a room immediately adjoining that of
the Missionary, and rose during the
night with the design of murdering him,
and of making his escape, with the
property on the premises, to a distant
place. At the moment he w as proceed.
ing to the bedside of this good man, Mr.
K. was suddenly awoke in a fit of ter-
ror, and unconsciously cried out, as
though aware of the design of this wick-
ed man, who, in consequence, became
alarmed, and fled.
(m) DREAM OF THE SERVANT.
-—-Mr. Williams, an eminently pious
man, who lived at Kidderminster in the
last century, records in his diary a re-
markable interposition of the providence
of God, in preserving his family and
property from devouring flames. One
of his servants dreamed that a neigh-
bor’s house was on fire, and through
the agitation which the dream occasion-
ed, she made a little noise, which awoke
Mrs. W1 who was sleeping in a room
below. On awaking, she found her
room filled with smoke; and when Mr.
Williams arose and examined the house,
he found part of one of the lower rooms
on fire ; which, but for the singular
manner in which they had been disturb-
ed, would have speedily placed the
whole family in danger; and, as the
house was not that year insured, have
deprived the good man of nearly all he
possessed.
BY THE CONTROL OF MIND.
$44. In Ovmuling Involuntary Affer-
tions and Dreams.
(a) THE SOLDIER AND THE
J EWELER.——During the late French
war, the French and Prussian troops
met in Lubec. The inhabitants could
not anticipate any thing but plunder and
murder.
Among others, a very pious jeweler
determined to fly to God for refuge. All
his gold and silver articles being placm
674
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
34%
upon a table, he requested all the mem-
bers of his family to unite with him in
prayer. While on their knees, a French
soldier burst open the door of the h-2-use,
and stood still, until the jeweler closed
the solemn exercise. He then invited
the soldier to the table, saying, “ Sir,
take of these articles whatever you
please.” “ No I” said the soldier, I
will take nothing; but shall continue
with you as a guard, until we march
_away. At night, a bed was offered to
the soldier, but he declined accepting it,
preferring to remain in the room below,
in order to be ready at any moment for
defending the jeweler against plunder-
ers. The French after some days
withdrew. The soldier of course joined
his troops. Stationed in another city,
he was quartered at the house of an in-
timate friend of the jeweler, to whom
be related the occurrence, adding, I
never knew what fear was, until I un-
expectedly saw the jeweler and his
family upon their knees praying. Such
was the degree of terror with which I
was struck, that I could not move from
the sill of the door until the jeweler
came to me! God protects his chil-
dren.
(b) THE MISSIONARIES AND
THE MURDERERS.——Soon after the
Moravian brethren had commenced
their zealous and disinterested labors in
Greenland, a number of murderers, ex-
cited by the angekoks, or sorcerers,
threatened to kill the Missionaries, and
entered their house for that purpose, at
a time when all were absent, excepting
one, named Matthew Stach. When
they arrived, they found him engaged
in the work of translation, in which he
went on, without showing any marks
of fear, though uncertain as to their in-
tention. After they had sat awhile,
their leader said, “ We are come to hear
good.” “I am glad of it,” replied the
Missionary, and silence being obtained,
he sang, prayed, and then proceeded:
“I will not say much to you of the
Creator of all things-—you know there
is a Creator ;”——to this they all assent-
ed except one. “ You also know that
you are a wicked people.” “ Yes I”
was the unanimous reply. “ N ow,
then,” resumed the Missionary, “I will

tell you what is most necessary to
know.” He then proceeded to declare
the incarnation and death of Jesus;
spoke of his resurrection from the dead ;
and assured them, that he would be the
final Judge of all men. He then sol-
emnly appealed to the leader of the
banditti, as to the account he would
render of his murders and other crimes
at the last day, and entreated him im-
mediately to accept the mercy off-ced
him by the Lord Jesus. After he had
done, a woman, whose brother they had
murdered, spoke of the efficacy of the
Savior’s atonement, told them she felt
it, and exhorted them no longer to resist
the truth. They heard all this with
attention, walked for some time before
the house with their hands folded, and
towards evening retired, without offer-
ing either violence or insult.
(c) HILL AND HIS GARDEN-
ER.—-The Rev. Rowland Hill had
great reason to rejoice in the consistent
lives, and zealous devotion to God, of
many of his people at lVotton. There
was amongst them a person of the name
of Rugg, of a piety so deep, and of a
life so useful and unblemished, that
even his enemies admired and were
awed by his character. Mr. Hill’s
gardener at VVotton, who had always
passed for an honest, quiet sort of man.
was at length discovered to have been
the perpetrator of several burglaries,
and other daring robberies in the neigh-
borhood, though he had, till caught in
the fact, never been even suspected.
He was tried at Gloucester, condemned,
and executed. It need scarcely be said
that his master visited him in gaol.
During his interview with him there, he
confessed the many crimes of which he
had been guilty. “How was it, VVil-
liam,” he inquired, “that you never
robbed me, when you had such abun-
dant opportunity ’?” “ Sir,” replied he,
“ do you recollect the juniper bush on
the border against the dining room 2 I
have many times hid under it at night,
intending, which I could easily have
done, to get into the house and plunder
it; but, sir, I was afraid: something
said to me, He is a man of God: it is a
house of prayer; if I break in Ishall
surely be found out: so Irevei could
675
3-I4
PROVIDENCE.
\in the middle of the night.
pluck up courage to attempt it.” In
another conversation, he told him, “ Sir,
I well knew that old Mr. Rugg was in
the habit of carrying a deal of money in
his pocket: times and times have I hid
behind the hedge of the lane leading to
his house : he has passed within a yard
of me, when going home from the pray-
er-meeting, again and again ; I could
not stir; I durst not touch so holy a
man. I was afraid. I always began
to tremble as soon as he came near me,
and gave up the thought altogether, for
I knew he was a hol man.”
(d) RUFF IANS FRIGHTENED
BY PRAYER.--A lady in one of our
large cities had been in the habit of at-
tending religious meetings in the even-
ing. When she had no one to accom-
pany her, she would go alone, although
frequently admonished of her danger.
On her return one evening from the
place of worship, in crossing a public
walk which lay in her way home, she
was met by two ruflians, who stopped
before her, and presenting a pistol to her
breast, demanded her watch and money.
Although alone as they supposed, there
Was one present in whom she trusted,
that the wretches did not see, and at
whose approach others like them once
“ went backward and fell to the ground.’ ’
As she had no arm of flesh to protect
her, she instantly fell upon her knees
before them, and with uplifted hands
cried out, “Now, Loan Jesus, help I”
The affrighted assassins fled.
(e) BUNYAN AND THE JAIL-
ER.—The respectability of Bunyan’s
character and the propriety of his con-
duct, while in prison at Bedford, appear
to have operated very powerfully on the
mind of the jailer, who showed him
much kindness, in permitting him to go
out and visit his friends occasionally,
and once to take a journey to London.
The following anecdote is told respect-
ing the jailer and Mr. Bunyan :—-It be-
mg known to some of his persecutors,
in London, that he was often out of
prison, they sent an officer to talk with
the jailer on the subject ; and, in order
to discover the fact, he was to get there
Bunyan
was at home with his family, but so rest-
less that he could not sleep ; he there-

_
fore acquainted his wife that, though the
jailer had given him liberty to stay till
the morning, yet, from his uneasiness,
he must immediately return. He did
so, and the jailer blamed him for coming
in at such an unseasonable hour. Early
in the morning the messenger came,
and interrogating the jailer, said, “ Are
all the prisoners safe .3” “Yes.” “ Is
John Bunyan safe '2” “Yes.” “Let
me see him.” He was called, and ap-
peared, and all was well. After the
messenger was gone, the jailer, address-
ing Mr. Bunyan, said, “ Well, you may
go in and out again just when you think
proper, for you know when to return
better than I can tell you.
THE DROWNING LADY.—-
—-A gay lady in New England once
had occasion to go to a neighboring town,
where she had often been before. In
the immediate vicinity was a stream
which she had to go near, and which at
this period was high. With a view of
showing her courage to a young person
whom she had taken with her as a com-
panion, she went into the stream with
her horse, and in a very little time was
thrown into the water,-—-had already
sunk once or twice to the bottom, and
felt that she was within a few moments
of an eternal world, without being pre-
pared for so great a change.
It so happened, that a young man in
another neighboring town had felt a
powerful impression on his mind that
morning, that he would visit the same
place. He had no business to transact ;
but, being forcibly impressed with the
importance of going thither, he invited
a young man to accompany him. Ar-
riving at the side of the stream just as
the young ladies were about to cross it,
they saw it was improbable that they
could ford it; yet, as the ladies went,
they determined to follow.
By the time the young lady was
thrown from her horse, the others had
nearly reached the opposite shore ; but,
perceiving her danger, one of them im-
mediately followed her on his horse, and
in the last moment of life, as it then ap-
peared, she caught hold of the horse’s
leg ; he thus secured her, and snatching
hold of the other drowning young lady,
she was saved also. After the use of
67$
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAE BLESSINGS.
3-141
Q-~
proper remedies they recovered; and
ne young gentlemen, believing that
the design of their coming from home
was now answered, returned back.
The ing ressions made on the mind
of this yo ng lady were permanent, and
she was led to reflect on the sins she
had committed against God, to pray for
the pardon of her guilt, and to devote
herself to the Divine service. She em-
braced the mercy of the Lord, believing
in the Redeei ier, who alone saves from
the wrath to come.
In the same town with herself lived
a young gentleman, who had often spent
his hours in vain conversation with her.
On her return home, he went to congra-
tulate her on her escape, and to his sur-
prise, found she attributed her deliver-
ance to the power of God, and urged
nim to seek that grace which they had
ooth neglected. Her serious conversa-
iron was blest to his conversion, and he
became a faithful minister of Jesus
Christ.
(g) WISHART AND THE FOR-
GERY.——The name of this eminent
man is well known in Scotland, where
he acted a distinguished part in the re-
formation of religion, which rendered
nim a constant object of the hatred of
the popish party. Cardinal Benson fre-
quently formed plans to take away his
life. At one time, he procured a letter
to be sent to him as from an intimate
friend, the laird of Kinnier, in which he
was requested to come to him without
delay, as he had been seized with sud-
den illness. In the meantime, the car-
dinal had provided sixty men to waylay
him, and deprive him of life.
The letter having been delivered by
a boy who also brought a horse to con-
vey him on his journey, Wishart set
out, but suddenly stopping by the way,
avowed to the friends who had accom-
partied him, his strong conviction that
God did not will that he should proceed ;
for that there was treachery in this bu-
siness. They went forward without him,
and discovered thc whole plot, by which
means his life was preserved.
(h) KNOX AND THE ASSAS-
S1 N.-—This celebrated Scotch reformer
had many surprising escapes from the
malicious designs oi iis enemies. He I

was accustomed to sit at the head of the
table in his own house, with his back
to the window ; on one particular even-
ing, however, he would neither himself
sit in his chair, nor allow any one else
to do so. That very mght a bullet was
shot in at the window ourposely to kill
him ; it grazed the char; in which he
usually sat, and mace a hole in the foot
of the candlestick.
(2') DOD’S SINGULAR VISIT.-—
It is recorded of Mr. Dod, one of the
Puritan ministers, that being me even-
ing late in his study, his n. ind was
strongly inclined, though he could as-
sign no reason for it, to visit a gentle-
man of his acquaintance, at a very un-
seasonable hour. Not knowing the
design of Providence, he obeyed and
went. When he came to the house,
after knocking a few times at the door,
the gentleman himself came, and in-
quired if he wanted him upon any par-
ticular business. Mr. Dod having an-
swered in the negative, and signified
that he could not rest till he had seen
him, the gentleman replied, “ O, sir,
you are sent of God at this very hour,
for I was just now going to destroy my-
self !” and immediately pulled the halter
out of his pocket, by which he had in-
tended to commit the horrid deed, which
was thus prevented.
THE LOST VVOMAN.-A poor
woman residing in a village in Bedford-
shire, had occasion to go to another vil-
lage, about three miles distant; and as
she could not return before evening, it
was agreed that her husband, who was
a laboring man, should meet her as she
returned home.
The night being extremely dark, she
unfortunately missed her way, and her
endeavors to find the path only led her
so much the farther from it. Bewilder-
ed and alarmed, she wandered she knew
not whither. In this distressing situa-
tion she walked about for some time,
until completely fatigued and exhaustcll.
At this moment it was strongly im-
pressed upon her mind to sit down, and
wait the return of morning, which she
accordingly did ; and on extending her
feet in order to obtain as much relief as
possible for her weary limbs, they
splashed in some water.
677
345
PROVIDENCE.
Ignorant of her real situation, and
without one ray of light to direct her,
her feelings may be more easily con-
ceived than described ; with the utmost
anxiety she awaited the dawn of day,
which discovered her perilous situation,
on the bank of a deep river, the Ouse,
into which another step would inevita-
bly have plunged her.
Being a pious woman, she first ac-
knowledged, with unfeigned gratitude,
the hand of her gracious P'reserver, and
then made the best of her way home.
346. In Ovorruling Voluntary Acts and
Aifeotions.
(a) THE SOLDIER’S SHIELD.—
Samuel Proctor was trained up in the
use of religious ordinances, and in early
life felt some religious impressions. He
afterwards enlisted as a soldier in the
first regiment of foot guards, and was
made a grenadier. Notwithstanding
this, the impressions made upon his
mind continued; and the fear of the
Lord, as a guardian angel, attended him
through the changing scenes of life.
There were a few in the regiment who
met for pious and devotional exercises;
he cast in his lot among them, and al-
ways carried a small pocket Bible in
one pocket, and his hymn-book in the
other. He took part in the struggle on
the plains of Waterloo in 1815. In the
evening of June 16th, in the tremendous
conflict on that day, his regiment was
ordered to dislodge the French from a
wood, of which they had taken posses-
sion, and from which they annoyed the
allied army. Vi/hile thus engaged, he
was thrown a distance of four or five
yards by a force on his hip, for which
he could not account at the time; but,
when he came to examine his Bible, he
saw, with overwhelming gratitude to the
Preserver of his life, what it was that
had thus driven him. A musket-ball
had struck his hip where his Bible
rested in his pocket, and penetrated
nearly half through that sacred book.
All who saw the ball, said that it would
undoubtedly have killed him, had it not
been for the Bible, which served as a
shield. The Bible was kept as a sacred
treasure, and laid up in his house, like

the sword of Goliath in the tabe rnatle.
“ That Bible,” said Proctor, “has
twice saved me instrumentally——-first,
from death in battle, and second from
death eternal.”
(6) POWELL SAVED BY FIDE.
LITY.-—This good man was one of
those devoted ministers, Who, in the
seventeenth century, were grievously
persecuted. In an account of the trials
and mercies he experienced, he tells us,
that two of the enemies of religion on
one occasion severely beat him, one of
whom, with a cudgel, greatly wounded
him; but his life was preserved. At
another time, four armed men waylaid
him, intending to kill him, but were
unexpectedly discovered by two stran-
gers, who dispersed them. One of these
persecutors that very day became, un
der Mr. Powell’s preaching, convinced
of his sin, and refrained ever after from
persecution. At another period, a poor
man took an oath to kill him ; but, after
several ineffectual attempts to accom-
plish his purpose he went to hear Mr.
P. deliver a sermon, in which the mercy
of Christ as the Savior of sinners was
so powerfully exhibited, that his heart
was melted; he entreated Mr. P. to
pray for him and become his friend.
On another occasion Mr. P. was appre-
hended while preaching; and on his
way to the justice of peace, he so
preached as to be the instrument of
causing one of his greatest enemies to
weep. When he arrived at the house
of the magistrate, who was not at home,
he preached even there, and the impres-
sion on the minds of his two daughters
was such, that they became his inter-
cessors, and he was released.
(0) ESCAPE OF GEN. VVASH--
IN GTON.—Major Ferguson, who com-
manded a rifle corps in advance of the
hussars under Kniphausen, during some
skirmishing a day or two previous to
the battle of Brandywine, was the hero
of a very singular incident, which he
thus relates in a letter to a friend. It
illustrates, in a most forcible manner,
the overruling hand of Providence in
directing the operations of a man’s
mind, in moments when he is least of
all aware of it.
“ We had not lain long, when a I'Cb\A
678
IN BESTOWING TEMPORAL BLESSINGS.
345
officer, remarkable by a hussar dress,
pressed towards our army, within a
hundred yards of my right flank, not
perceiving us. He was followed by
another, dressed in dark green and
blue, mounted on a bay horse, with a
remarkably high cocked hat. I ordered
three good shots to steal near to them,
and fire at them ; but the idea disgust-
ing me, I recalled the order. The hus-
sar, in returning, made a circuit, but
the other passed within a hundred yards
of us, upon which I advanced from the
wood towards him. Upon my calling,
he stopped 5 but after looking at me, he
proceeded. I again drew his attention,
and made signs to him to stop, leveling
my piece at him; but he slowly can-
tered away. As I was within that dis-
tance at which, in the quickest firing,
I could have lodged half a dozen balls
in or about him, before he was out of
my reach, I had only to determine;
but it was not pleasant to fire at the
back of an uuoffending individual, who
was acquitting himself very coolly of
his duty ; -so I let him alone.
“The day after, I had been telling
this story to some wounded officers who
lay in the same room with me, when
one .of the surgeons, who had been
dressing the wounded rebel officers,
came in, and told us, that they had
been informing him that General I/Vasln
ington was all the morning with the
light troops, and only attended by a
French officer in a hussar dress, he
himself dressed and mounted in every
point as above described. I am not
sorry that I did not know at the time
who it was.”
(<1) TEMPTED CHRISTIAN
SAVED.-—-About the year 1808, a
young lady, walking out late on a win-
ter s evening, on the Kentish coast, was
alarmed by overhearing a conversation
of some Irish laborers, which proved
she was in danger of being robbed, if
not murdered. She resolved to return
to the village she had just left, which
she accomplished, though pursued by
one of the men, from whom she was
mercifully delivered.
Agitated and distressed, she deter-
mined to stay at the village for the night,
and went to the house of a baronet in

pursuit of a pious woman, who, in the
absence of the family, always slept in
it. She was surprised that, for a ion,-5
time, her rap at the door was not an-
swered ; and still more to find, when
entrance was permitted, all the doors
she had to pass with her friend fasten-
ed ; nor was her astonishment lessened,
when she learned that the good woman
was entirely without food, or firing.
However, she stayed for the night, and,
in the morning, went home.
Ten years rolled along, during which
time the old woman treated her young
friend with much kindness; the former
had buried several of her family, and
was about to leave the neighborhood.
Previous to this, she called on her friend,
reminded her of the circumstances,
which, indeed, she had never forgotten ;
and then, under a promise of secrecy
during her life, divulged the following
facts ;—-
For some time before the events first
alluded to occurred, the poor old lady,
though a pious woman, had been the
subject of many temptations. Melan-
choly and doubting, Satan at last pre-
vailed on her to attempt to take away
her life. And so nearly was this pur-
pose accomplished, that, at the time this
young lady sought admission to the
house, she had locked up all its doors,
and was passing down the yard to throw
herself into the sea! She recognised
the hand of God in this interposition to
save her life, lived to his praise for
twelve or fourteen years after this event,
and at length died in the full hope of
immortality, through the mediation of
the Lord Jesus.
(6) AUGUSTINE’S MISTAKE.—-
Posidonius, in his life of Augustine, re-
lates, that the good man, going on one
occasion to preach at a distant town,
took with him a guide to direct him in
the way. This man, by some unac-
countable means, mistook the usual
road, and fell into a bye-path. It after-
wards proved, that in this way the
preacher’s life had been saved, as his
enemies, aware of his journey, had
placed themselves in the proper road
with a design to kill him.
) THE SADDLE BAG IN THE
VVRONG BOAT. -- The Rev. T.
679
345
PROVIDENCE.
’
Charles, who was well known as a holy
and useful minister in Wales, had once
a remarkable escape from death. In
one of his jcurneys to Liverpool, his
saddle-bag was, by mistake, put into a
boat diflferent from that in which he in-
tended to go, which made it necessary
to change his boat, even after he had
taken his seat. By this change, so con-
trary to his intentions, he was gracious-
ly preserved ; for the boat in which he
meant to sail was lost, and all its pas-
sengers were drowned.
(g) DR. COLE’S COMMISION.—-
It1s related, in the papers of Richard
earl of Cork, that towards the conclu-
sion of Queen Mary’s reign, a commis-
sion was signed for the persecution of
the Irish Protestants; and, to give
greater weight to this important affair,
Dr. Cole was nominated one of the com-
mission. The doctor in his way to
Dublin, stopped at Chester, where he
was waited upon by the mayor; to whom,
in the course of conversation, he im-
parted the object of his mission, and ex-
hibited the leather box which contained
his credentials. The mistress of the
inn, where this interview took place,
being a Protestant, and having ever-
heard the conversation, seized the op-
portunity, while the doctor was attend-
ing the mayor to the bottom of the
stairs, of exchanging the commission
for a dirty pack of cards, on the top of
which she facetiously turned up the
knave of clubs. The doctor, little sus-
pecting the trick, secured his box, pur-
sued his journey, and arrived in Dublin
on the 7th of October, 1558. He then
lost no time in presenting himself before
lord F itzwalter and the privy council ;
to whom, after an explanatory speech,
the box was presented, which to the as-
tonishment of all present, was fbund to
contain only a pack of cards! The
doctor, greatly chagrined, returned in-
stantly to London, to have his commis-
sion renewed : but while waiting a se-
cond time on the coast for a favorable
wind, the news reached him of the queen’ s
decease, which prevented the persecu-
tion, that would have otherwise proved
so awful a calamity. Queen Elizabeth
was so much gratified with these facts,
which were related to her by Lord Fitz- ,
walter on his return to England, that
she sent for the woman, whose name
was Elizabeth Edwards, and gave her
a pension of forty pounds a year during
her life.
(It) HOWARD AND THE HIGH.
WAYMAN. — John Howard, Esq.,
the eminent philanthropist, always set
a very high value on the Sabbaths he
spent in England; and, during his ab-
sence on the continent, be deeply oeplored
the want of Chfistian privileges. That he
might not increase the labor of his ser-
vants, nor prevent their attendance on
Divine worship, he usually walked to
the chapel, where he attended, at Bed-
ford, though at a distance of nearly
three miles from his residence. So re-
gularly did he pursue this practice, that
an idle and dissolute man, whom he had
reproved for his sins, determined to
avail himself of this opportunity to
waylay and murder him. But Divine
Providence remarkably interposed to
preserve so valuable a life, by inclin-
ing him that morning to go on horse-
back a different road, by which means
his valuable life was prolonged.
GREENLAND MISSION-
ARIES FED.——VVhen the Moravian
missionaries first went, in the last cen-
tury, to labor in Greenland, they were
called to endure the most painful and
distressing trials, both in reference to
the indifference of the heathen, and the
want of food. Famine, of the most
afflictive kind, almost constantly threat.-
ened them. But in the darkest hours,
God always appeared in some way or
other, for their help. On one occasion,
He disposed a Greenlander, a perfect
stranger to them, to travel forty leagues
to sell them some seals, the flesh of
which, with oatmeal and train oil, was a
delicacy to them compared with the‘old
tallow candles on which they some-
times lived. At another time, when
they had just returned from a toilsome
excursion, in which they could obtain
no food, a Greenlander brought them
word that a Dutch ship was lying at
some distance to the south, the captain
of which had letters for them. On
sending to the ship, they found a cask
of provisions sent them by a kind friend
at Amsterdam, with the proposal to semi
680
IN BESTOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS.
345, 346

-n;-—--__
more if they needed. At another pe-
riod, they were returning home empty in
their frail boat, when a contrary wind
forced them on a desolate island, where
they were compelled to remain all
night. Here they shot an eagle, and
thus obtained food, and also quills for
writing.
(j) MRS. ERSKINE’S RELEASE.
—-There is a remarkable circumstance
connected with the history of Ralph
Erskine—a fact well authenticated in
the part of Scotland where his family
lived. His mother “ died and was bu-
ried,” some years before he was born.
She wore on her finger at the time of
her death a rich gold ring, which, from
some domestic cause or other, was
much valued by the family. After the
body was laid in the coffin, an attempt
was made to remove the ring, but the
hand and the finger were so much
swollen that it was found impossible.
It was proposed to cut off the finger,
but the husband’s feelings revolted at
the idea. She was therefore buried
with the ring on her finger. The sex-
ton, who was aware of the fact, formed a
resolution to possess himself of the ring.
Accordingly on the same night he open-
ed the grave and ooffin.—-Having no
scruples about cutting off the finger of
a dead woman, he provided himself
with a sharp knife for the purpose. He
lifted the stiff arm, and made an incision
by the joint of the finger. The blood
flowed—-and the woman arose and sat
up in her cofiin! The grave digger
fled with affright, while the lady made
her way from her narrow tenement and
walked back to the door of her dwell-
ing, where she stood without and
knocked for admittance. Her hus-
band, who was a minister, sat con-
versing with a friend. ‘When the
knock was repeated he observed, “ were
it not that my wife is in her grave, I
should say that was her knock.” He
arose hastily and opened the door.
There stood his dear companion, wrap-
ped in her grave clothes, and her
uplifted finger dropping blood. “My
Margaret!” he exclaimed. “ The
same,” said she--“ Your dear wife, in
her own proper person, do not be
alarmed.”

The lady in question, lived seven or
eight years after this occurrence, and
became the mother of several children.
among whom was the person above
spoken of.
( WISHART AND THE
PSALM.-—The Covenanters, in the time
of the civil wars were exceedingly fond
of singing psalms. VVhen the great
Montrose was taken prisoner, his chap-
lain, Wishart, the elegant historian of
his deeds, shared the same fate with his
patron, and was condemned to the same
punishment. Being desired on the scaf-
fold to name what psalm he wished to
have sung, he selected the 119th, consist-
ing of twenty-four parts. In this he was
guided by God ; for before two thirds
of the psalm was sung a pardon
arrived.
IN BESTOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS.
846. In Overruling Benevolence.
(a) “THERE ‘IS THAT SCA.1‘_
TERETH,” &c.-—During the siege of
the Protestant city of Rochelle, under
Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu, the
inhabitants endured great miseries be-
fore they yielded to an honorable capi-
tulation, the terms of which were, how-
ever, far from being kept by their ene-
mies. One of the many touching inci-
dents of the siege is recorded by Heri-
vault. “ He gives the names of the
parties chiefly concerned,” says Smed-
ley ; “ and the narrative is marked by
an air of truth, which renders its au-
thenticity undoubted. During the height
of calamity among the Rochellois, some
charitable individuals, who had previ-
ously formed secret magazines, relieved
their starving brethren without blazon-
ing their good deed. The relict of a
merchant, named Prdsni, who was left
in charge of four orphan children, had
literally distributed her stores, vshile
any thing remained, among her less
fortunate neighbors; and whenever she
was reproached with profusion and want
of foresight by a rich sister-in-law of
less benevolent temper, she was in the
habit of replying, ‘ The Lord will pro-
vide for us.’ At length, when her stock
of food was utterly exhausted, and she
was spurned with taunts from the door
681
34
PROVIDENCE.
of her relative, she returned home des-
titute, broken-hearted, and prepared to
die, together with her children. But it
seemed as if the mercies once displayed
at Zarephath were again to be mani-
fested ; and that there was still a barrel
and a cruse in reserve for the widow,
who, humbly confident in the bounty of
Heaven, had shared her last morsel with
the supplicant in affliction. Her little
ones met her at the threshold with cries
of joy. During her short absence, a
stranger, visiting the house, had deposit-
ed in it a sack of flour; and the single
bushel which it contained was so hus-
banded as to preserve their lives till the
close of the siege. Their unknown
benefactor was never revealed ; but the
pious mother was able to reply to her
unbelieving kinswoman, ‘ The Lord hath
provided for us.’ ”
(b) ANDERSON AND THE MER-
CHAN T.——This worthy man, formerly
minister at Walton-upon-Thames, being
the subject of persecution in England,
in the year 1662, and apprehensive of
the ascendency of Popery, removed to
Middleburgh, in Zealand. The little
money he took with him was soon ex-
pended, and he was reduced with his
family to very great want, which his
modesty would not allow him to make
known. In this perplexity, after he had
been at prayer one morning with his
family, his children asked for some
bread for their breakfast ; but he having
none, nor money to buy any, they all
ourst into tears. While they were thus
sorrowing together, the door bell was
rung ; Mrs. Anderson Went to the door,
where she was met by a man who pre-
sented a small parcel, saying it had
been sent by a gentleman, and that some
provision would be sent in shortly.
When they opened the paper, they found
it to contain forty pieces of gold. Soon
afterwards a countryman arrived, with
a horse-load of whatever could contri-
bute to their comfort. These supplies
were continued at intervals to his dying
day, without his knowing where they
came from. It afterwards appeared,
that these kindnesses were shown by a
pious merchant at Middleburgh ; whc
observing a grave English minister fre-
quently walk the streets with a dejecteu

I__'..-"'_ M
countenance, inquired privately into Js
circumstances, and sent him the gole oy
his apprentice, and the provision by his
country servant, saying, “God forbid
that any of Christ’s ambassadors should
be strangers, and we not visit them; or
in distress, and we not assist them ;” at
the same time expressly charging them
to conceal his name.
(0) THE MINISTER’S STARV.
IN G FAMILY.—A clergyman of the
state of N ew-York, (says the Religious
Museum,) through a misapprehension
of a leading member, was precipitately
deprived of his pulpit, which involved a
large family in necessity. At supper,
the good man had the pain of beholding
the last morsel of bread placed upon the
table, without the least means or pros-
pect of a supply for his children’ s break-
fast. His wife, full of grief, with her
children, retired to her bed. The min.
ister chose to sit up and employ his dark
hours in prayer, and reading the pro-
mises of God. Some secret hope of
supply pervaded his breast; but when,
whence, or by whom, he knew not. He
retired to rest, and in the morning ap-
peared with his family, and performed
the duty of prayer. It being the depth
of winter, and a little fire upon the
hearth, he desired his wife to hang on
the kettle, and spread the cloth upon the
table. The kettle boiled——the children
cried for bread—the afliicted father,
standing before the fire, felt those emo-
tions of heart unknown to those whose
tables are replenished with affluence.
While in this painful state, some one
knocked at the door, entered, and de-
livered a letter into the minister’s hand.
When the gentleman was gone, the let-
ter was opened, and to the minister’s as-
tonishment, it contained a few bank bills
with a desire of acceptance. So mani-
fest an interposition of Divine goodness
could not but be received with gratitude
and joy; and should be a lesson to oth-
ers to trust in that Savior who hath said,
“ Verily thou shalt be fed ;” Psalm 37 :
3. “I never will leave thee nor forsake
thee ;” Heb. 13: 5.
This remarkable occurrence being
communicated to the editor, who hav-
ing an intimacy with the gentleman
said to be the hand that offered the sea
689. .
IN BESTOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS.
346
_——w——
sonable relief, was determined the next
time he made him a visit to introduce
the subject, and if possible, to know the
reason that induced the generous action.
The story being told, the gentleman
discovered a modest blush, which evinc-
ed the tenderness of his heart. On in-
terrogation, he said, “he had frequent-
y heard that minister; on a certain
morning he was disposed for a walk;
thought in the severity of the winter
season a trifle might be of service as
fuel was high ; felt a kind of necessity
to enclose the money in a letter, went
to the house, found the family adjusted
as was described; delivered the paper
and retired ; but knew not the extreme
necessity of the minister and his family
.mtil this moment.
(d) KNOLLYS’ DELIVERANCE.
--The Rev. Hanserd Knollys suffered
much persecution for his conscientious
attachment to the truth. In the early
part of his ministry, he emigrated from
England to America, the common asy-
lum at that time, for all who wished to
enjoy liberty of conscience. There he
sojourned four years, but returned in
1641, at the earnest request of an aged
father. On his arrival in England he
was reduced to great straits, but expe-
rienced the goodness of Providence in a
peculiar manner. The following par-
ticulars are extracted from his own ac-
count. “I was still poor and sojourned
in a lodging till 1 had but sixpence left,
and knew not how to provide for my
wife and child. Having prayed to God
and encouraged my wife to trust in him,
and to remember former experiences,
and especially that word of promise, ‘ I
will never leave thee nor forsake thee,’
I paid for my iodging and went out, not
knowing whither God’s good hand would
lead me to receive something towards my
presentsubsistence. About seven or eight
doors from my lodgings, a woman met me
in the street, and told me she came to
seek me, and her husband had sent her
to tell me that there was a lodging pro-
vided and prepared in his house by some
Christian friends for me and my wife.
I told her my present condition and went
along with her to the house. There
she gave me twenty shillings which Dr.
Bastock, a late sufl'erer, had given her
' for me,‘and some linen for my wife,
' which I received, and told her husband
gl would fetch my wife and child and
‘ lodge there. I returned with great joy,
and my wife was greatly affected with
this seasonable and suitable supply.
After we had returned praises to God,
we went to our new lodgings, where we
found all things necessary provided for
us, and all charges paid for fifteen
weeks.” When the time was expired,
he undertook a school, and by the bless-
ing of God was succ’ssful in bringing
up a large family creditably, and though
several times imprisoned for religion,
continued the laborious and esteemed
pastor of a poor church, for fifty years,
till he went to his reward, Sept. 19th,
1691, aged ninety-two years.
(6) ERSKlNE’S DELIVERANOES.
—-Rev. Henry Erskine was often in
great straits and difliculties. Once
when he and his family had supped at
night, there remained neither bread,
meal, flesh, nor money, in the house.
In the morning the young children cried
for their breakfast, and their father en-
deavored to divert them, and did what
he could at the same time to encourage
himself and wife to depend upon that
Providence that hears the young ravens
when they cry. While thus engaged,
a countryman knocked hard at the door,
and called for some one to help him off
with his load. Being asked whence he
came, and what he would have, he tolu
them he came from Lady Reburn with
some provisions for Mr. Erskine. They
told him he must be mistaken, and that
it was more likely to be for another Mr.
Erskine in the same town. He replied,
no, he knew what he said, he was sent
to Mr. Henry Erskine, and cried,
“Come, help me off with my load, or
else I will throw it down at the door.”
I/Vhereupon they took the sack from
him, and on opening it, found it well
stored with fish and meat.
At another time, being at Edinburgh,
he was so reduced that he had but three
half pence in his pocket. When he was
walking about the streets, not knowing
what course to steer, one came to him
in a countryman’s habit, presented him
with a letter in which were enclosed
several Scotch ducatuons, with these

683
347
PROVIDENCE.
--'-_
words written,. “Sir, receive Ihis from
a sympathizing friend. Farewell.” Mr.
Erskine never could find out whence
the money came.
At another time, being on a journey
on foot, his money fell short and he was
in danger of being reduced to distress.
Having occasion to fix his walking stick
in some marshy ground, among the
rushes, he heard something tinkle at
the end of it; it proved to be two half
crowns, which greatly assisted in hear-
ing his charges home. In days of per-
secution and poverty God wonderfully
interposes for his people.
347. In Orarruling Various Acts and Affec-
tions.
(a) THE BUTCHER AND THE
REDEMPTIONER.——A person in
Holland, who had made a considerable
fortune in Philadelphia, as a butcher,
went on board a ship from Amsterdam,
which carried a number of German
Redemptioners,* for the purpose of pur-
chasing one to assist him in his business.
After examining the countenances
of several of the passengers, without
being able to please himself, his atten-
tion was arrested by the tranquil and
composed countenance of a man ad-
vanced in years, but with much appear-
ance of strength and activity.
N ot less pleased with the tenor of the
conversation of his fellow countryman,
than with his exterior, he described the
purpose for which he wanted a servant,
and obtained the man’s consent to pur-
chase his indentures, providing he
would also purchase those of his wife,
who had accompanied him.
The parties then went ashore to com-
plete the business, attended by the cap-
tain ; and upon the names of the persons
being mentioned, to insert them in the
writings, they were found to be the
name of the purchaser’s father and
mother: and, upon further inquiries,
* A redemptioner is a person who engages
to article himself, by indenture, for an agreed
number of years, to some one who may want
him, on his arrival in America: and the captain
receives the sum paid for the services of the
individual so articled, as passage and subsis-
tence money.

he ascertained them to he, in fact, his
father and mother, the latter declaring,
that if he was their son, he had a re-
markable mole upon his left arm, which
proved to be the case.
Nothing could surpass the joy of all
parties. The providence of God had
snatched the venerable pair from po-
verty and servitude, and conducted
them to plenty and independence, under
the protection of 0*‘ aflectionate son.
He, it appeared, had run away from
his parents when quite a boy, and,
from the continual wars in Europe,
neither party had heard of the other
since that period.
(b) MR. NEWTON’S HABIT.-
“Nothing was more remarkable,” says
the biographer of Mr. Newton, “than
his constant habit of regarding the hand
of God in every event, however trivial
it might appear to others. In walking
to his church, he would say, ‘ The way
of man is not in himself, nor can he
conceive what belongs to a single step.
When I go to St. Mary Woolnoth, it
seems the same whether I turn down
Lothbury, or go through the Old Jewry ;
but the going through one street, and
not another, may produce an effect of
lasting consequence. A man out down
my hammock in sport, but had he cut it
down half an hour later, I had not been
here, as the exchange of crew was
then making. A man made a smoke
on the sea-shore, at the time a ship
passed, which was thereby brought to,
and afterwards brought me to Eng-
land.’ ”
(0) AN OLD PERSON.—The Rev.
Dr. Bedell relates, that while Bishop
Chase, of Ohio, was at the house of a
Mr. Beck, in Philadelphia, he received
a package from Dr. Ward, the Bishop
of Sodor and Man, making inquiries
relating to certain property in America,
of which some old person in his diocese
was the heir. The letter had gone to
Ohio, followed him to VVashington, then
to Philadelphia, and found him at Mr.
Beck’s: when he read it to Mr. B., the
latter was in amazement, and said,
“ Bishop Chase, I am the only man in the
world who can give you information. I
have the deeds in my possession, and have
had them forty-three vears, not knowing
Q
684
IN BES TOWING VARIOUS BLESSINGS.
347
what to do with them, or where any
heirs were to be found.” How wonder-
ful, that the application should have
been made to Bishop Chase, and he not
in Ohio, but a guest in the house of the
only man who possessed any information
on the subject !
(cl) THE LORD WAS THEIR
BAN KER.——Mr. Philip Henry, one of
‘he non-comformist ministers, when
silenced from preaching, by the act of
uniformity, took comfort himself, and
administered comfort to others, from the
passage, “ Let mine outcasts dwell with
thee, Moab.” “ God’s people,” be ob-
served, “ may be an outcast people,
cast out of men’s love, their synagogues,
their country; but God will own his
people when men cast them out; they
are outcasts, but they are his, and some
way or other he will provide a dwelling
for them.” Shortly before his death,
the same pious man observed, that,
though many of the ejected ministers
were brought very low, had many chil-
dren, were greatly harassed by perse-
cution, and their friends generally poor
and unable to support them ; yet, in all
his acquaintance, he never knew, nor
could remember to have heard of, any
non-conformist minister in prison for
debt.
(e) HAPPY MEETING.—After the
battle of Talavera, among the prisoners
sent to France was an interesting child,
about seven years old, concerning whom
one of the English officers received an
account, that he was the son of a ser-
geant M’Cullum, who had served in the
42d Highland regiment, under Sir John
Moore, in the Peninsula, and was killed
in the battle of Corunna. The child’s
engaging manners had greatly won
upon several persons, one of whom, as
he passed through Toboso, immediately
took him under his protection, and ob-
tained leave to bring him to England,
having a recommendation to the Duke
of York. His royal highness, from
what he had heard, felt such an interest
in the boy, that, when brought into his
presence, he took him on his knee, con-
versed with him in the French and
German languages, which the child
knew, and made arrangements promptly
for his admission into the Military Asy-


lum, at Chelsea. It being necessary to
obtain the signature of Lord Huntly
before the boy could be admitted, the
officer and his little protegé were pro-
ceeding to Richmond House for that
purpose, when, on reaching Charing
Cross, he perceived a soldier, in the
Highland uniform, walking before him:
he quickened his pace, and seen ever-
took this man, who happened to belong
to the 42d regiment. On inquiring cf
him if he had been acquainted with
sergeant M’Cullum, who was killed the
year before at Corunna, he replied,
“Sir, I did not know any man of that
name who was killed; but will you be
so good, sir, as to tell me why you have
asked that question '2” “ Because,” said
the officer, pointing to the boy, “ that is
his child, whom I found in Spain.’ ’
“ O sir,” said he, rushing over to the
boy, “ he is my child! Jamie, don’t you
know me ?” The scene, as may be
supposed. was truly affecting. The
feelings depicted in the soldier’s coun-
tenance, on the sudden discovery of his
long-lost child, together with the rush
of thought upon the past scenes of the
boy abroad, so overcame the officer,
that he was obliged to retire into an
adjoining shop, to give vent to his emo-
t1ons.
THE CAPTIVE AND HER
FAVORITE HYII/IN.—In the year
1754, a dreadful war broke out in Can-
ada, between the French and the Eng-
lish. The Indians took part with the
French, and made excursions as far as
Pennsylvania, where they plundered
and burned all the houses they came to,
and murdered the people. In 1755,
they reached the dwelling of a poor
family from \/Virtemberg, while the wife
and one of the sons were gone to a mill,
four miles distant, to get some corn
ground. The husband, the eldest son,
and two little girls, named Barbara and
Regina, were at home. The father and
his son were instantly killed by the sav-
ages, but they carried the two little girls
away into captivity, with a great many
other children, who were taken in the
same manner. They were led many
miles through woods and thorny bushes,
that nobody might follow them. In this
condition they were brought to the hab
685
3-17
PROVIDENCE.
ttations of the Indians, who divided
among themselves all the children whom
they had taken captive.
Barbara was at this time ten years
old, and Regina nine. It was never
known what became of Barbara; but
Regina, With a little girl of two years
old, whom she had never seen before,
were given to an old widow, who was
to them very cruel. In this melancholy
state of slavery these children remained
nine long years, till Regina reached the
age of nineteen, and her little compan-
ion was eleven years old. While cap-
tives, their hearts seemed to have been
drawn towards what was good. Regina
continually repeated the verses from the
Bible, and the hymns which she had
learnt when at home, and she taught
them to the little girl. They often used
to cheer each other with one hymn
from the hymn book used at Halle, in
Germany :
“ Alone, yet not alone am 1,
Though in this solitude so drear.”
They constantly hoped that the Lord
Jesus would, some time, bring them back
to their Christian friends.
In 1764, the hope of these children
was realized. The merciful providence
of God brought the English Colonel
Bouquet to the place where they were
in captivity. He conquered the Indians,
and forced them to ask for peace. The
first condition he made was, that they
should restore all the prisoners they had
taken. Thus the two poor girls were
released. More than 400 captives were
brought to Colonel Bouquet. It was an
affecting sight to see so many young
people wretched and distressed. The
colonel and his soldiers gave them food
and clothes, brought them to the town
of Carlisle, and published in the Penn-
sylvania newspapers, that all parents
who had lost their children might come
to this place, and in case of their find-
ing them, they should be restored. Poor
Regina’s sorrowing mother came, among
many other bereaved parents, to Car-
lisle; but, alas! her child had become
a stranger to her; Regina had acquired
the appearance and manner, as well as
the language o.'the natives. The poor
mother went up and down amongst the
“ rescue.

young persons assembled, but by nu
efforts could she discover her daughters.
She wept in bitter grief and disappoint-
ment. Colonel Bouquet said, “ Do you
recollect nothing by which your chil-
dren might be discovered 13”‘ She an-
swered that she recollected nothing but
a hymn, which she used to sing with
them, and which was as follows:
“ Alone, yet not alone am I,
Though in this solitude so drear ;
I feel my Savior always nigh,
He comes the weary hours to cheer.
I am With him, and he with me,
Even here alone I cannot be.”
The colonel desired her to sing this
hymn. Scarcely had the mother sung
two lines of it, when Regina rushed
from the crowd, began to sing it also,
and threw herself into her mother’s
arms. They both wept for joy, and the
colonel restored the daughter to her
mother. But there were no parents or
friends in search of the other little girl :
it is supposed they were all murdered ;
and now the child clung to Regina, and
would not let her go; and Regina’s
mother, though very poor, took her home
with her. Regina repeatedly asked after
“ the book in which God speaks to us.”
But her mother did not possess a Bible ;
she had lost every thing when the na-
tives burnt her house.
(g) THE CAPTIVE’S RELEASE.
—-“ In the war called Braddock’s war,”
says a writer in the Christian’s Advo-
cate, “ my father was an officer in the
British Navy. One night as they were
running close to the coast of Barbary,
the officers on deck heard some person
singing. A moment convinced them
that he was singing the Old Hundred
psalm tune. They immediately con-
jectured that the singer was a Christian
captive, and determined to attempt his
Twenty stout sailors, armed
with pistols and cutlasses, manned the
ship’s boats and approached the shore.
Directed by the voice of singing and
prayer, they soon reached the abode of
the Christian captive. It was a little
hut at the bottom of his master's gar.
den on a small river. They burst open
the door, and took him from his knees.
and in a few moments he was on the
ship’s deck frantic with joy. The ac-
686
IN CONVERSION S.
347, 348


count he gave of himself was, that his
name was McDonald; that he was a
native of Scotland; and had been a
captive eighteen years , he had obtained
the confidence of his master, was his
chief gardener, and had the privilege of
living by himself. He said he was not at
all surprised when they burst open his
‘door, for the Turks had often done so,
‘and whipped him when on his knees.”
- (It) THE BROTHERS’ MEET-
lNG.——A gentleman residing near Marl-
borough, went to New-York to get a
hand to work for him on his farm. He
.chanced to have recommended to him, a
young man who had just emigrated from
Germany, and through hired persons
(as the German could not speak Eng-
lish,) he engaged to work for him, and
brought the young man over to his re-
sidence. At dusk the gentleman sent
to a neighbor for a German who had
been working there a long time, having
emigrated from Germany many years
since, and whose steady habits had, as
much as any thing, influenced him in
retaining the young man. to come and
talk with the new work-hand. The
German who was sent for, came and
seated himself by the fire, back of
the other, who was drinking his tea.
The family were waiting for the meal
to be finished, expecting to here some
regular Dutch talk ; nor did they wait
in vain, for the moment the young man
turned from the table, his eyes were
fixed on the other German. Both stood
a moment, regarding each other—and
then rushed into each other’s arms--
they were brothers, and had met for the
first time in many years. The kind
feeling, the unbounded joy, the repeat-
ed embrace, were worthy of lovers.
These two honest Dutchmen did talk
real Dutch that night, and will proba-
bly do so a long time, as they work on
farms that adjoin each other.
IN CONVERSIONS.
348. Overruling Misiortunes and Bereave-
meats.
(a) GAME OF FOOT-BALL.-
Vavasor Powell, an eminent minister of
the seventeenth century, being appoint-

_-q
ed to preach on a certain day, in a
meadow, near Treozaron, Cardigar
shire, a number of idle persons, enemies
to religion, agreed to meet at the same
time and place, to play at foot-ball, and
thereby create a disturbance. Among
them was a young man of respectable
family in that neighborhood, lately re-
turned home from school, who being
nimble-footed and dextrous at the game,
had obtained possession of the ball, in-
tending to kick it in the face of the
preacher. At this instant, another per-
son ran towards him, and tripped up
his heels. By the fall his leg was
broken; and after lying on the ground
in great agony, he expressed a wish to
see the minister, to whom, on his arri-
val, he confessed his wicked intention,
and acknowledged that the just judg-
ment of God had befallen him.
Mr. Powell, having represented to
him the evil and danger of sin, preach
ed the power and grace of the Savior;
and, at the request of the young man,
accompanied him to his father’s house.
So great was the change produced in
him by means of this afliiction, that on
his recovery he began to preach, and
was for many years the most laborious
and useful minister in those parts. His
name was Morgan Howell.
(b) THE INFIDEL CONVERT-
ED.——The conversion of Dr. Vander-
kemp was preceded by a very remark-
able interposition of the providence of
God, in the preservation of his life. He
was sailing on the river near Dort, in
company with his wife and daughter,
when a violent storm arose, and a water-
spout broke on the boat, by which it was
instantly overset. Mrs. and Miss Van-
derkemp were immediately drowned;
and the survivor, clinging to the boat,
was carried down the stream nearly a
mile; no one daring, in so dreadful a
storm, to venture from the shore to his
assistance. A vessel then lying in the
port of Dort, was by the violence _of the
storm driven from her moorings, and
floated towards the part of the river in
which he was, just ready to perish ; and
the sailors took him from the wreck.
Thus remarkably was a life preserved,
which was afterwards to be employed
for the advantage of mankind, and for
687
3&8
PROVIDENCE.
the propagation of that faith which he
had labored to destroy. The sudden
loss of his earthly comforts, and his
long struggle against a painful death,
softened his hard heart, shook the infi-
del principles he had hitherto cherished,
and ended in the consecration of his life
to the cause of God.
(0) THE WRECKED SAILOR’S
CONSECRATION.-—A ship, says
Rev. John Blain, was wrecked amongst
the rocks, near Cape Horn. While the
winds fiercely blowed, and the foaming
billows dashed the timbers in pieces,
one seaman reached a lonely, barren
rock. The day passed slowly away.
He stretched his eye to the east and
west, to the north and south, over the
deep, dark, and ever restless waters—
but no friendly sail appeared! The
sun disappeared, and he sat down to
pass in solitude the lonely night. His
shipmates were cold and silent in their
watery graves. The waves dashed
against the rock, the winds passed
swiftly onward, the lamps of night shed
their dismal light on the bosom of the
deep—but no human voice sounded in
his ear, no brother’s hand administered
to his wants. Hunger and thirst made
strong demands, but he had no means
to relieve them. The bread and the
water were entombed with his compa-
nions. Nor had he any consolation to
draw from a future world. The Bible
and the Redeemer had been neglected,
and he was strangely indifferent. An-
other day came and passed, and an-
other night. On the third night, as he
lay on his back, gazing into the starry
heavens, he began to think about God
and ezernity, his past life, and the in-
terests of his soul. But all was dark.
His skin was peeling from his face, his
teeth all loose, his thirst almost intoler-
able, and death seemed to stand by his
side. He had never prayed, nor did
he know how to pray. A single com-
mandment was all he remembered, and
that commandment his dear mother
taught him when a child. And how
should he meet that mother and his
God in a future world’! His sins
passed in review, and pressed on his
guilty conscience, while bitter tears
sf repentance began to roll down his

scalded cheeks. Without knowing wha
the Lord required of him, he rose, stood
on his kness, lifted his feeble hands to-
wards heaven, and there on that lonely
rock, far, far away from home and
friends, he submitted all to God, and
most solemnly promised, if his life was
spared, he would learn and do what-
ever God required. From that conse-
crated and blessed hour, peace fiowed
into his soul——Christ was his Savior,
and hope entered within the vail. The
next day the life-boat from a passing
ship took him from the Bethel rock. He
landed in Boston, found the sailor’s
friend, and the sailor’s home, and
listened to the gospel of peace. Father
Taylor gave him a Bible, which he
read with prayerful attention. He
came to New-York—-visited different
churches, searched for truth, remem-
bered his solcmn vow, and in February,
1843, while I was preaching in the
Baptist Tabernacle, he offered himself
to the church. On hearing his expe-
rience, every heart felt—cvery eye
wept. Bro. Wm. W. Everts baptized
him, welcomed him to the church, and
he went on his tray rejoicing.
(03) CURE FOR NERVOUS EX-
CITEMENT.—A friend once told me
that, amongst other symptoms of high
nervous excitement, he had been pain-
fully harassed by the want of sleep.
To such a degree had this proceeded,
that if in the course of the day any
occasion led him to his bed-chamber,
the sight of his bed made him shudder
at the idea of the restless hours he had
passed upon it. In this case it was re-
commended to him to endeavor, when
he lay down at night, to fix his thoughts
on something at the same time vast and
simple—-—such as the wide expanse of
ocean, or the cloudless vault of heaven ;
that the little hurried and disturbing
images that fiitted before his mind
might be charmed away, or hushed to
rest, by the calming influence of one
absorbing thought. Though not at all
a religious man at the time, the advice
suggested to his mind, that if an object
at once vast and simple was to be se-
lected, none could serve the purpose so
well as that of God. He resolved thtsn
to make the trial, and to think of Him.
688
IN CON VERSION S.
34.8
-— n--;—-

--,v_--_-__-
The result exceeded his most san-
guine hopes; in thinking of God he fell
asleep. Night after night he resorted
*0 the same expedient. The process
became delightful ; so much so, that he
used to long for the usual hour of re-
tiring, that he might fall asleep, as he
termed it, in God. ‘What began as a
mere physical operation, grew by im-
perceptible degrees into a gracious 1n-
fiuence. The same God who was his
epose at night, was in all his thoughts
by day. And at the same time this
person spoke to me, God, as revealed
in the gospel of his Son, was “ all his
salvation,” so inscrutable are the ways
by which God can “ fetch home again
his banished.”
(6) THE STUDENT AND HIS
MOTHER’S LETTERS.——-Among the
students in an Academy in Massachu-
setts in 1845, was one, who was the
son of a pious mother, but whose father
was a professed believer in the doctrme
of the final and universal restoration of
all men, and openly rejected and ridi-
culed true religion. Yet, notwithstand-
ing Mr. F .’s (the young man’s father)
hostility to religion, he had permitted
his son to be trained up in the Sabbath
school, where the true principles of the
gospel had been so instilled 1nto his
young mind that all the soplnstmal argu-
ments used by his father were unable to
move him. But at the period of which
we are speaking, the young man was a
stranger to God experimentally.
The second week after he entered
school, he received a letter from his
mother, in which she warned him of the
danger to which he exposed himself by
living in rebellion against God, and urged
him to repent. He thought but little
of the letter, and, being a close student,
applied himself to his books, entirely
regardless of the concerns of his soul.
Two weeks passed and another letter
came, containing the same warning and
expostulations as the first. And thus
she continued, for some months, to write
to her impenitent son, using every argu-
ment a mother’s love and concern for
ais soul could suggest to persuade him
to become a Christian. Still his mind
remained unaffected.
In the meantime a protracted meeting

was being held in the vil‘age where
the academy was located. The young
man had frequently been solicited to
lay aside his books and attend it. This
he refused to do, saying. he did not
feel at all interested in the meetings,
nor had he the least concern for his
soul ; besides, it was more profitable
for students to attend to their books,
than spend their time in that manner.
Two weeks had passed since he re-
ceived his mother’s last letter; he went
to the post-office for another, and found
one with the post-mark of his native
village upon it; but on ope. ing it, in-
stead of seeing the familiar hand of his
mother, his eye rested on characters
scarcely legible. YVhat could this
mean? He began to read, and soon
learned that his mother by accident had
been deprived of the use of her right
hand, and had written with her left,
still presenting to him the important
theme of his salvation. This touched
a chord in the young man’s heart, and
he said, “ If my sins are the cause of
so much grief to my mother, there
must be something wrong, and by the
grace of God I will forsake them, and
begin now to seek my soul’s salvation.”
That evening he went to the prayer-
meeting; and when “ the anxious”
were requested to come forward to the
altar that Christians might pray for
them, he was among the first there.
But as he afterward stated, he had no
conviction for sin, though he knew he
was a sinner, and without repentance
could not be saved. It was love for
his mother alone which prompted him
to take the step he had, and love for
her led him still further. For several
successive evenings he was seen upon
the anxious seat, yet there appeared to
be no change wrought in him» At
length, one evening he rose up, and
stated what his feelings had been, and-
added, that he now began to desire re-
ligion because he believed it to be the
“power of God unto salvation.”
Conviction from this time began to
roll in upon his mind, and he saw him.
self as he never had done before, a lost
and condemned creature, without God
and without hope. His distress of mind
was great, and his trials unusual.
44
689
849
PROVIDENCE.
Isevere. But he heard a voice saying,
" Behold the Lamb of God which taketh
away the sins of the world,” and like
Andrew he went to meet Him and
became his disciple, and one of the
brightest ornaments of religion among
the many who were hopefully con-
verted at that time. ‘
349. Overrnling Intended or Actual Per-
secution.
(a) INTENDED MURDERER
AND THE SERMON'—-Mr. Brad-
bury possessed an ardent zeal in the
cause of civil and religious liberty, and
had many admirers. This exposed
him to the hatred of the popish faction,
whose designs in respect of the Jacobi-
tish succession he had often exposed.
They once employed a person to take
away his life. To make himself fully
acquainted with Mr. Bradbury’s per-
son, the man frequently attended at
places of worship where he preached,
place himself in front of the gallery,
with his countenance steadfastly fixed
on the preacher. It was scarcely pos-
sible, in such circumstances, wholly to
avoid listening to what was said. Mr.
Bradbury’s forcible way of presenting
divine truth awakened the man’s atten-
tion ; the truth entered his understand-
ing, and became the means of changing
his heart. He came to the preacher
with trembling and confusion, teld his
affecting tale, gave evidence of his con-
version, became a member of Mr. Brad-
bury’s church, and was, to his death,
an ornament to the gospel which he
professed.
(b) WHI'I‘EFIELD’S PERSECU-
TORS.—-When this distinguished min-
ister was once at Plymouth, four gen-
tlemen came to the house of one of his
particular friends, kindly inquiring after
him, and desiring to know where he
lodged. Soon afterwards, Mr. White-
field received a letter, informing him
that the writer was a nephew of Mr.
S——, an attorney at N ew-York ; that he
had the pleasure of supping with Mr.
Whitefield at his uncle’s house, and de-
sired his company to sup with him and
a few friends at a tavern. Mr. White-
field sent him word, that it was not

customary for him to sup abroad at
taverns; but he should be glad of the
gentleman’s company to eat a morsel
with him at his lodging: he according-
ly came and supped, but was observed
frequently to look around him, and to
be very absent in mind: At last he
took his leave, and returned to his com-
panions in the tavern; and on being
asked by them what he had done, he
answered, that he had been used so
civilly, that he had not the heart to
touch him. Upon which another of
the company, a lieutenant of a man-
of-war, laid a wager of ten guineas that
he would do his business for him. His
companions, however, had the precau-
ticn to take away his sword. It was
now about midnight, and Mr. VVhite-
field, having that day preached to a
large congregation, and visited the
French prisons, had gone to bed, when
the landlady came and told him that a
well-dressed gentleman desired to speak
with him. Mr. Whitefield imagining
it was somebody under conviction, de-
sired him to be brought up. He came,
and sat down by the bed-side, congratu-
lated him upon the success of his min-
istry, and expressed much concern at
being detained from hearing him. Soon
after, he broke out into the most abusive
language, and in a cruel and cowardly
manner beat him in his bed. The
landlady and her daughter, hearing the
noise, rushed into the room and laid
hold of him; but he soon disengaged
himself from them and repeated his
blows upon Mr. Whitefield, who being
apprehensive that he intended to shoot
or stab him, underwent all the surprise
of a sudden and violent death. After-
wards a second came into the house, and
cried out, from the bottom of the stairs,
“Take courage,I am ready to help
you I” But, by the repeated cry of
“murder!” the alarm was now sq
great, that they both made off. “ The
next morning,” says Mr. Whitefield,
“I was to expound at a private house,
and then to set out for Bidcford. Some
urged me to stay and prosecute; but,
being better employed,I went on my
intended journey, was greatly blessed
in preaching the everlasting gospel,
and, upon my return, was well paid
690
IN CONVERSIONS.
319
for what I had suffered, curiosity hav-
ing led perhaps two thousand more
than ordinary to see and hear a man
that had like to have been murdered in
his bed. And I trust, in the five weeks
that I waited for the convoy, hundreds
were awakened and turned unto the
Lord.”
(c) THE POINTED SERMON.—-
in the year 1743, the Rev. George
Whitefield had resolved to come to this
country, and had engaged his passage
m a ship that was to sail from Ports-
mouth; but as the captain afterwards
refused to take him, “for fear of his
spoiling the sailors,” he was obliged to
go to Plymouth. While staying there,
ne frequently preached, and an attempt
having recently been made to murder
him in his bed, much attention was ex-
cited, and many thousands flocked to
hear him. While he was one day
preaching, Mr. Tanner, who was at
work as a ship-builder, at a distance,
heard his voice, and resolved, with five
or six of his companions, to go and
drive him from the place where he
stood; and for this purpose they filled
their pockets with stones. When, how-
ever, Mr. T. drew near, and heard Mr.
Whitefield earnestly inviting sinners to
Christ, he was filled with astonishment,
his resolution failed him, and he went
home with his mind deeply impressed.
On the following evening, he again at-
tended, and heard Mr. Whitefield on
the sin of those who crucified the Re-
deemer. After he had expatiated on
their guilt, he appeared to look intently
on Mr. Tanner, as he exclaimed with
energy, “ Thou art the man !” These
words powerfully affected Mr. T.; he
felt his iniquities to be awfully great,
and in the agony of his soul he cried,
“ God be merciful to me a sinner.”
The preacher then proceeded to pro-
claim the free and abundant grace of
Jesus, which He commanded to be
preached among the very people who
had murdered him 5 on hearing which,
Mr. T. was encouraged to hope for
mercy, and he surrendered himself to
Christ. This sermon was made emi-
nently useful to many other persons.
(d) THE “HELL-FIRE CLUB.”
—-The Rev. John Cooke, of Maiden-

head, (Eng.) was once called on to
preach at the opening of a chapel. Six
years afterwards, a man came to him
after preaching at Bristol, and told him
that, at the period first referred to, he
belonged to an awfully wicked society,
called, “ The hell-fire club,” the mem-
bers of which always endeavored to coin
a new oath for each evening on which
they met, the chairman decidirg who
had the preference. As this man was
walking towards his club, he was ask-
ing himself what sin he had not com-
mitted, resolving he would commit it
before he went to bed. His attention
was arrested by the lights of the chapel,
and the voice of the preacher. After
some hesitation, whether he should en-
ter the chapel for sport now, or as he
returned from the club, he determined
on the former. He entered as ‘-he
preacher was repeating his text, "' All
manner of sin and blasphemy shall be
forgiven unto men 5 and whosoever
speaketh a word against the Son of man,
it shall be forgiven him : but whosoever
speaketh against the Holy Ghost, it
shall not be forgiven him, neither in this
world, neither in the world to come.”
He described the nature of the sin; the
reason why it was unpardonable ; show-
ed who had not committed it, and proved
that their sins might be pardoned. The
man went home, locked himself in his
bedroom, fell on his knees, thanked God
he was out of hell, and prayed for the
pardon which he was delighted to know
he might yet receive, though he had
often wished to die, that he might know
the worst of hell. He read, prayed
heard the gospel, looked by faith t
Christ, and soon enjoyed a sense of
pardon, and the privilege of friendship
with God. In his case he considered,
“ Jehovah here resolved to show
VVhat his Almighty grace could do.”
(6) MR. WHITEFIELD AND THE
TRUMPETER.—-On one occasion,
during Whitefield’s residence in Amer-
ica, a black trumpeter, belonging to an
English regiment, resolved to interrupt
him during a discourse which he was
expected to deliver in the open air. At
the sour appointed for the sermon, be
691
3-19
PROVIDENCE.
- and at no great distance.
-Q-—_
in-I“
-_-~ _. --~

—\
repaired to the field where it was to be
preached, carrying his trumpet with him
on purpose to blow it with all his might
about the middle of the sermon. He
took his stand in front of the minister,
The con-
course that attended became very great,
and those who were towards the extrem-
ity of the crowd pressed forward, in or-
der to hear more distintly, which caused
such a pressure at the place where the
trumpeter stood, that he found it impos-
sible to raise up the arm which held
the trumpet at the time he intended to
blow it. He attempted to extricate
himself from the crowd, but found this
equally impossible, so that he was kept
tvithin hearing of the gospel as securely
as if he had been chained to the spot.
In a short time, his attention was ar-
rested, and he became so powerfully
affected by what the preacher presented
to his mind, that he was seized with an
agony of despair, and was carried to a
house in the neighborhood. When the
service was over, he was visited by Mr.
Whitefield, who tendered some season-
able counsels ; and the poor trumpeter
from that time became an altered man.
I/VHITEFIELD AND THE
FIDDLER.-—.Iohn Skinner, of Hounds-
croft, in Gloucestershire, (Eng.,) was a
strolling fiddler, going from fair to fair,
and supplying music to any party that
would hire him. Having determined to
interrupt that great and successful
minister of Christ, Mr. Vlfhitefield, he
obtained a standing on a ladder raised
to a window near the pulpit ; he re-
mained a quiet, if not an attentive hear-
er, till the text was named, when he
intended to begin his annoying exercise
on the violin. It pleased God, howev-
er, while he was putting his instrument
in tune, to convey the word spoken
with irresistible power to his soul ; his
attention was diverted from his original
purpose, he heard the Whole sermon,
and became altogether a new man.
(g) THE WIDOW AND HER
SON.—-A minister from England being
at Edinburgh, was accosted very civil-
ly by a young man in the street, with
an apology for the liberty he was tak-
ing: “I think, sir,” said he, “I have
heard you at Spafield’s chapel.” “ You

probably may, sir; for I have some
times ministered there.” “ Do you re-
member,” said he, “ a note put up by
an afliicted widow, begging the prayers
of the congregation for the conversion
of an ungodly son '2” “I do very well
remember such a circumstance.”
.“Sir,” said he, “I am the very per-
son ; and, wonderful to tell, the prayer
was effectual. Going On a frolic with
some other abandoned young men, one
Sunday, through the Spafields, and
passing by the chapel, I was struck
with its appearance, and hearing it was
a Methodist chapel, we agreed to min-
gle with the crowd, and stop for a few
minutes to laugh and mock at the
preacher and the people. We had on-
ly just entered the chapel, when you-
sir, read the note, requesting the pray-
ers of the congregation for an afliicted
widow’s son. I heard it with a sensa-
tion I cannot express. I was struck to
the heart; and, though I had no idea
that I was the very individual meant, I
felt that it expressed the bitterness of a
widow’s heart, who had achild as wick-
ed as I knew myself to be. My mind
was instantly solemnized. I could not
latgh ; my attention was riveted on the
preacher. I heard his prayer and ser-
mon with an impression very different
from that which had carried me into
the chapel. From that moment, the
truths of the gospel penetrated my
heart ; I joined the congregation ; cried
to God in Christ for mercy, found peace
in believing, and became my mother’s
comfort, as I had long been her heavy
cross.
(It) THE PERSECUTING FA.
THER AND HIS DAUGHTER.-—
During a series of religious meetings,
held in the school-house of a small vil-
lage, a very little girl became much in-
terested fer the salvation of her soul.
Her father, a hater of holiness, who
lived next door to the place of meeting
finding that his little daughter was none“
interested in the meetings, and had been
forward to be prayed for, strictly for-
bade her again entering the “ house of
prayer.” The poor little girl was much
oppressed, and knew not what to do, but
obeyed her father until the next meet-
ing was nearly ha f through, then slip.
692
IN CONVERSION S.
¥
ping out without his knowledge, and
getting through a hole in the back yard
ence, she hastily ran to the meeting
It was some time before her father missed
her, but when he found her gone, he
went immediately to the meeting, where
she was on her knees, with others whom
the people of God were praying for. So
enraged was he, that he went directly
forward, and took her in his arms, to
carry her from the place. As he raised
her from her knees, she looked up with
a heavenly smile, and said, “It is too
late now, pa ; I have given my heart to
the Savior.” This was too much for
the hardened sinner: he too sunk on
his knees, while he was prayed for;
and very soon he found that Savior he
had in vain attempted to shut out from
his daughter’s heart.
850. Uverruling various forms of Wicked-
ness.
(a) I/VORD OF GOD POI/VER_
FUL.--An eminently pious curate, in
England, was accustomed, on account
of the village in which he resided being
at a great distance from the church, to
preach on the sabbath evening in his
own house. On his return from his stated
parochial duties, one sabbath afternoon,
he was warned by one of his neighbors to
keep a strict look-out against two sus-
picious characters then lurking in the
village, as there was some reason to ap-
prehend that they intended that night
to rob his house. They contrived how-
ever, by some means, to get within his
premises while the people were assem-
bling in considerable numbers for wor-
ship, and concealed themselves in a re-
tired part of the house; but not being
far from the room where the worthy
man was preaching, they could distinct-
ly hear his voice. The sword of the
Spirit pierced their hearts; they were not
only convinced of the wickedness of their
meditated burglary, but of the awful
criminality of si~ as committed against
God, and left their dark retreat under
the most pungent sense of guilt. From
this time, an effectual change _was
wrought in their minds and conduct,
and the pious clergyman, after several
years, could bear testimony trat by their

350
unblamable lives, they adorned the gos-
pel of Christ.
(Z2) THE NEGRO’S SERMON.--
A worthy and excellent bishop of the
Episcopal church was in early life an
immoral and dissipated man. Dining
one evening with a party of gentlemen,
they sat late over their wine, and with
a view to promote merriment, this young
man sent for one of his slaves, who was
in the habit of preaching to his com-
panions in slavery, and ordered him to
preach a sermon to the company. The
good man hesitated for a time, but at
length began to address them. Instead
of the mirth, however, which they an-
ticipated from the ignorance and sim-
plicity of the poor man, the piety and
fervor of his discourse produced a con-
trary effect. The solemn truths he de-
livered sank deeply into the hearts of
some of the company, and, through the
Divine blessing, carried conviction to
the heart of his master, who now seri-
ously inquired after the way of salva-
tion; which having learned, he began
from a sense of duty to publish the
grace of Christ, and became an or-
nament to the Christian ministry.
(0) THE SCOFFER CONVERT-
ED.—-‘/Vhen the Rev. G. I/Vhitefield
and J. I/Vesley commenced their zeal-
ous and successful labors, there was a
very prevalent disposition to oppose and
misrepresent them. Many of the pub-
lic-houses became places where their
doctrines and zeal were talked of and
ridiculed. Mr. Thorpe, and several
other young men in Yorkshire, under-
took at one of these parties to mimic the
preaching of these good men. The pro-
position met with applause; one after
another stood on a table to perform his
part, and it devolved on Mr. T. to close
this very irreverent scene. Much elat-
ed, and confident of success, he exclaim-
ed, as he ascended the table, “I shall
beat you all.” VVho would have sup-
posed that the merey of God was now
about to be extended to this transgres-
sor of his law ! The Bible was handed
to him; and, by the guidance of un\-
erring Providence, it opened at Luke
13: 3. “Except ye repent, ye shall
all likewise perish.” The moment he
read the text his mind was impressed in
603
350
PROVIDENCE.
a most extraordinary manner; he saw
clearly the nature and importance of
the subject ; and as he afterwards said,
if he ever preached with the assistance
of the Holy Spirit, it was at that time.
His address produced a feeling of de-
pression in his ahditors ; and, wher. he
had finished, he instantly retired to
weep over his sins: he associated with
the people of God ; and became a use-
ful minister of the New Testament, and
died at Masborough, in 177 6.
(d) TAKING OFF THE ME-
I‘HODIST.—The Rev. Mr. Madan was
educated for the bar. His conversion
to God arose from the following circum-
stances. Some of his companions, when
assembled one evening at a coffee-house,
requested him to go and hear the Rev.
John Wesley, who, they were informed,
was to preach in the neighborhood, and
then to return and exhibit his manner
and discourse for their entertainment.
With that intention he went to the house
of God. Just as he entered the place,
Mr. Wesley read as his text, “ Prepare
to meet thy God,” Amos 4: 12, with
a solemnity of accent which excited his
attention, and produced a seriousness
which increased as the good man pro-
ceeded in exhorting his hearers to re-
pentance. Mr. Madan returned to the
coffee-room, and was asked by his com-
panions if he had taken off the old me-
thodist. He replied, “No, gentlemen,
but he has taken me off;” and from that
time forsook their company, associated
with true Christians, and became an
eminently good man.
(6) A SINGULAR MOTIVE FOR
ATTENDING CHURCH.-—A young
man of the city of Norwich, (Eng.,)
about eighteen years of age, was walk-
ing one morning with several compan-
ions, who had agreed on that day to
take their pleasure. The first object
that attracted attention was an old we-
man, who prctended to tell fortunes.
They immediately employed her to tell
theirs, and that they might qualify her
for the undertaking, first made her
thoroughly intoxicated. The young
man, of whom mention was first made,
was informed, among other things, that
he would live to a very old age, and see
his children, grandchildren, and great-

—-
vw
grandchildren growing up around him-
Though he had assisted in intoxicating
the old woman, he had eredulity enough
to be struck with those parts of the pre-
diction which related to himself. “ And
so,” said he, when alone, “I am to
see children, grandchildren, and great-
grandchildren I At this age, I must be
a burden to the young people. What
shall I do? There is no way for an
old man to render himself more agree-
able to youth, than by sittin, and tell-
ing them pleasant and profita le stories.
Iwill then,” thought he, “ during my
youth, endeavor to store my mind with
all kinds of knowledge. I will see and
hear, and note down every thing that is
rare and wonderful, that I may sit, when
incapable of other employments, and en-
tertain my descendants. Thus shall
my company be rendered pleasant, and
I shall be respected, rather than neg-
lected, in old age. Let me see, what
canl acquire first? Oh! here is the
famous methodist preacher, Whitefield ;
he is to preach, they say, to-night—I
will go and hear him.”
From these strange motives the young
man declared he went to hear Mr
Whitefield. He preached that evening
from Matthew, 3: 7. “But when he
saw many of the Pharisees and Sad-
ducees come to his baptism, he said unto
them, O generation of vipers, who hath
warned you to flee from the wrath to
come '2” “Mr. Whitefield,” said the
young man, “ described the Sadducees’
character; this did not touch me; I
thought myself as good a Christian as
any man in England. From this he
went to that of the Pharisees. He de-
scribed their exterior decency, but ob-
served, that the poison of the viper
rankled in their hearts. This rather
shock me. At length, in the course of
his sermon, he abruptly broke off ; paus-
ed for a few moments; then burst into
a flood of tears ; lifted up his hands anc
eyes, and exclaimed, ‘ Oh, my hearers!
the wrath’s to come! the wrath’s to
come!’ These words sunk into my
heart, like lead in the waters; I wept,
and, when the sermon was ended, re-
tired alone. For days and weeks
could think of little else. Those
awful Words would follow me wherever
694
IN CON VERSIONS.
350
Q
I went, ‘ The wrath’s to come! the
wrath’s to come I’ ” The issue was,
that the young man soon after made a
public profession of religion, in a little
time became an eminent preacher, and
he himself related these circumstances
to the late Rev. Andrew Fuller of Ket-
tering.
PLAYING BALL ON THE
SABBATH.-—-The following interest-
ing facts were related to the Rev. Dr.
Conder, of London, by an old gentle-
man, who remembered when a boy to
have heard them from the great-grand
father of that gentleman :—
I used, said he, when young, to ac-
company my father to Royston market,
which Mr. Conder also frequented. The
custom of the worthy men in those days
was, when they had done their market-
ing, to meet together, and take needful
refreshment in a private room, where,
without interruption, they might talk
freely about the things of God-—how
they had heard on the Sabbath day, and
how they had gone on the week past,
etc. I was admitted to sit in a corner
of the room. One day, when I was
there, the conversation turned upon the
question, “ By what means God first
visited their souls, and began a work of
grace upon them '2” It was your great-
grandfather’s turn to speak, and his ac-
count struck me so, that I never forgot
it. He told the company as follows :—-
“ When I was a young man, was I great-
ly addicted to foot-ball playing ; and,
as the custom was in our parish, and
in many others also, the young men,
as soon as church was ever, took a foot-
ball and went to play. Our minister
often remonstrated against our break-
ing the Sabbath, which, however, had
but little effect; only my conscience
checked me at times, and I would some-
times steal away and hide myself from
my companions. But being dextrous
at the game, they would find me out,
and get me among them. This would
bring on me more guilt and horror of
conscience. Thus I went on sinni g
and repenting a long time, but had no
resolution to break off from the practice,
till, one Sabbath morning, our minister
acquainted his hearers that he was very
sorry to tell them, that by order of the

king (James I.) and his council, he
must read them the following paper or
relinquish his living. This was the
Book of Sports, forbidding the ministers
or churchwardens, or any others, to me-
lest or discourage the youth, in what
were called their manly sports and re-
creations on the Lord’s day, etc. \Vhile
our minister was reading it, I was
seized with a chill and horror not to be
described. Now, thought I, iniquity is
established by a law, and sinners are
hardened in their sinful ways! VVhat
sore judgments are to be expected upon
so wicked and guilty a nation! iVhat
shall I do’.2 VVhither shall I flee’.Z
How shall I escape the wrath to come?
-—And thus God convinced me that it
was high time to be in earnest about sal-
vation. And from that time, I ne-
ver had the least inclination to take a
foot-ball in hand, or to join my vain
companions any more: so that I date
my conversion from that time, and adore
the grace of God in making that to be
an ordinance for my salvation, which
the devil and wicked governors laid as
a trap for my destruction.”
This, continued the narrator, I heard
him tell: and I hope with some serious
benefit to my own soul.
(g) THE ROBBER AND THE
STOLEN SERMONS.-—A minister,
had been preaching one evening, in a
village at some distance from his home ;
when, on his return, he was stopped by
a footpad, who presented a pistol, and
demanded his money. The minister
allowed him to take his watch and his
money; and the thief, feeling some
papers in his pocket, took them also
away with him, saying, that for
any thing he knew, there might be
bank notes amongthem. These papers
were, howeve‘, manuscript sermons,
written out at length in a fair and legi-
ble hand. Some months afterwards, a
respectable looking man called upon the
same minister, recalled to his recollec-
tion the robbery, stated that he had been
the robber, restored the watch and a sum
of money equivalent to that which he
had taken away, and stated the cause
of his making restitution was, that upon
looking over the papers, he found a
a sermon on the words,“ Thou shalt
695
350
PROVIDEN C1‘).

not steal.” The singularity of this
circumstance induced him to read it;
and the impression produced by its
warnings upon him was so powerful,
that he abandoned his profiigate
courses, became an altered man, devo-
ted himself to industrious labor, and
took the earliest opportunity of restor-
ing the property he had stolen.
(it) DRUNKARD SAVED FROM
SUICIDE.—An aged Christian in Ber-
wick upon the Tweed, England, gave a
visiter of the poor the following account
of his conversion. He said, that previous
to the Lord’s meeting with him, he
was a notoriously wicked character,
and, among many other vices, he was
much addicted to drinking to excess.
On a certain occasion, he had, what he
tertned, broke out, and had been in a
state of intoxication for, I think he said,
a fortnight. When the effects of the
liquor left him, and he began to come
to himself, his spirits sunk unusually
low, and guilt and remorse preyed on
his mind so much, that he was driven
to despair, and felt himself so misera-
ble, that he determined on the rash act
of putting an end to his existence; he
accordingly procured a rope to hang
himself. At that time, his wife, who
was a truly pious woman, was at Spa-
fields chapel. A thought came into his
mind, that he should like his wife to
know his fate soon after he was dead ;
this induced him to go round the back
of the chapel, to seek for a convenient
place to commit the fatal deed, expect-
ing that when the congregation came
out he should be found dead, and that
his wife would be informed. When
passing the back of the chapel, with the
rope in his pocket, the sound of the
minister’s voice caught his ear, and in-
duced him to go and look in at the door.
At the instant the minister was preach-
ing, in a very animated manner, on the
efficacy of the blood of Christ to cleanse
the guilty conscience, stated that the
Savior was able and willing to save the
vilest rebels, and then gave a most
nressing invitation to the chief of sin-
ners, saymg,
“Come and Welcome, come and welcome,
All that feel your need of h 711."
These and similar sentences so pene-
trated his heart, that they produced
feelings which are easier conceived than
described.
When the service was over, he went
home, fell on his knees, and cried for
mercy. His wife was, at first, aston-
ed at the wonderful change ; but, on
inquiry, she found the Lord had answer-
ed her prayer in behalf of her husband.
(2') THE THREE SCOFFERS.—-
In a sea-port town on the west coast of
England, notice was once g:ven of a
sermon to be preached there one Sunday
evening. The preacher was a man of
great celebrity; and that circumstance,
together with the object of the discourse
being to enforce the duty of strict ob-
servance of the Sabbath, attracted an
overflowing audience. After the usual
prayers and praises, the preacher read
his text, and was about to proceed with
his sermon, when he suddenly paused,
leaning his head on the pulpit, and re-
mained silent for a few moments. It
was imagined that he had become indis-
posed; but he soon recovered himself,
and, addressing the congregation, said
that before entering upon his discourse,
he begged to narrate to them a short
anecdote. “It is now exactly fifteen
years,” said he, “since I was last with-
in this place of worship ; and the occa-
sion was, as many here may probably
remember, the very same as that which
has now brought us together. Amongst
those who came hither that evening,
were three dissolute young men, who
came not only with the intention of in-
sulting and mocking the venerable pas-
tor, but even with stones in their pockets
to throw at him as he stood in the pul-
pit. Accordingly, they had not attend-
ed long to the discourse, when one of
them said impatiently, “ Why need we
listen any longer to the blockhead?-~
throw !’ ’ But the second stopped him, say
ing, “ Let us first see what he makes of
this point.” The curiosity of the latter
was no sooner satisfied, than he, too,
said. “Ay, confound him, it is only as
I expected—-throw now I” But here
the third interposed, and said, “It would
be better altogether to give up the de-
sign which has brought us here.” A
this remark his two associates took of
696
IN CON VERSIONS.
350

P‘ uv_
fence, and left the place, while he him-
self remained to the end. Now mark,
my b:ethren,” continued the preacher,
with much emotion, “ what were after-
wards the several fates of these young
men’.Z The first was hanged, many
years ago, at T yburn, for the crime of
forgery; the second is now lying
under the sentence of death, for mur-
der, in the jail of this city. The third,
my brethren ” -— and the speaker’s
agitation here became excessive, while
he paused, and wiped the large drops
from his brow--“ the third, my breth-
ren, is he who is now about to address
you !——listen to him.”
THE INFIDEL’S SERMON
TO THE PIRATES.-—A native of
Sweden, residing in the South of France,
had occasion to go from one port to
another in the Baltic Sea. When he
came ‘to the place whence he expected
to sail, the vessel was gone. On in-
quiring, he found a fishing boat going
the same way, in which he embarked.
After being for some time out to sea,
the men observed that he had several
trunks and chests on board, concluded
he must be very rich, and therefore
agreed among themselves to throw him
overboard. This he heard them ex-
press, which gave gave him great un-
easiness. However, he took occasion
to open one of hi3 trunks which
contained some books. Observing this,
they remarked among themselves that
it was not worth while to throw him
into the sea, as they did not want any
books, which they supposed was all the
trunks contained. They asked him if
he were a priest. Hardly knowing
what reply to make, he told them he
was; at which they seemed much
pleased, and said they would have a
sermon on the next day, as it was the
Sabbath.
This increased the anxiety and dis-
tress of his mind, for he knew himself
to be as incapable of such an undertak-
ing, as it was possible for any one to be,
as he knew very little of the Scriptures;
neither did he believe in the inspiration
of the Bible.
At length they came to a small
rocky island, perhaps a quarter of a
mile in circumference, where was a

company of pirates, who had chosen
this little sequestered spot to deposit their
treasures. He was taken to a cave, and
introduced to an old woman, to whom
they remarked that they were to have
a sermon preached, the next day. She
said she was very glad of it, for she had
not heard the word of God for a great
while. His was a trymg case, for
preach he must, still he knew nothing
about preaching. If he refused, or un-
dertook to preach and did not please,
he expected it would be his death.
With these thoughts he passed a sleep-
less night. In the morning his mind
was not settled upon any thing. To
call upon God, whom he believed to be
inaccessible, was altogether vain. He
could devise no way whereby he might
be saved. He walked to and fro, still
shut up in darkness, striving to collect
something to say to them, but could not
think of even a single sentence.
When the appointed time for ie
evening arrived, he entered the cave
where he found the men assembled.
There was a seat prepared for him, and
a table with a Bible on it. They sat
for the space of half an hour in pro-
found silence; and even then, the an-
guish of his soul was as great as human
nature was capable of enduring. At
length these words came to his mind,—-
“Verily, there is a reward for the
righteous: verily, there is a God that
judgeth in the earth.” He arose and
delivered them: then other words pre-
sented themselves, and so on till his un-
derstanding became opened—-his heart
enlarged in a manner astonishing to
l1imself. He spoke upon subjects
suited to their condition; the rewards
of the righteous-—the judgments of the
wicked—the necessity of repentance,
and the importance of a change of life.
The matchless love of God to the chil-
dren of men, had such a powerful effect
upon the minds of these wretched beings,
that they were melted into tears. Nor
was he less astonished at the unbounded
goodness of Almighty God, in thus in-
terposing to save his spiritual as well as
his natural life, and well might he
exclaim,--“ This is the Lord’s doings,
and marvelous in our eyes.” Under
a deep sense of God’s goodness, his
697
351
PROVIDENCE.
heart became filled with such thankful-
ness, that it was out of his power to
express. What marvellous change was
thus suddenly brought about by Divine
interposition! He who a little before
disbelieved in communion with God
and the soul, became as humble as a
little child. And they who were so
lately meditating on his death, now are
filled with love and good will towards
each other, particularly towards him;
manifesting affectionate kindness, and
willing to render him all the assistance
in their power!
The next morning they fitted out one
of their vessels, and conveyed him
where he desired. From that time he
became a changed man. From senti-
ments of infidelity he became a sincere
believer in the power and efficacy of
the truth as it is in Jesus.
351. Bverruling Dreams and Involuntary
Afieetions
(a) THE MOUNTAINEER’S
DREAM.——A man who has long lived
in an obscure place, on one of the
mountains in Berkshire county, Mass.,
(says the N ew-York Evangelist of
1831), who had been taught to read the
Bible in childhood, but had not been to
any religious meeting, or had a Bible
in his house for many years, began last
spring to dream every night whole
chapters of what he had read in early
life, and to think of what he had dream-
ed during the day. This he did several
nights and days in succession, till the
truth thus brought to mind, effected a
deep conviction of sin, which resulted
in his hopeful conversion.
(Z2) THE BACKSLIDER’S
DREAM.-—A young gentleman being
reproved by his mother for being re-
ligious, made her this answer: “I am
resolved by all means to save my soul.”
Some time after he fell into a lukewarm
state, during which time he was sick
and nigh unto death. One night he
dreamed that he saw himself summon-
ed before God’s angry throne, and from
thence hurried into a place of torments:
where, seeing his mother full of scorn,
she upbraided him with his former an-
swer ; why he did not save his soul by

=_ ‘q
all means. This was so much im-
pressed on his mind when he awoke,
that, under God, it became the means
of his turning again to him ; and when
any body asked him the reason why he
became again religious, he gave them
no other answer than this : “ If I could
not in my dream endure my mother’s
upbraiding my folly and lukewarmness,
how shall I be able to suffer that God
should call me to an account in the last
day, and the angels reproach my luke-
warmness, and the devil aggravate my
sins, and all the saints of God deride
my folly and hypocrisy ?”
(c) THE FATHER’S DREAM
O F J U D G ME N T.—“ In January
last,” said a pious father in writing to
his friends, “I dreamed that the day
of judgment was come. I saw the
Judge on his great white throne, and
all nations were gathered before him.
My wife and I were on the right hand ;
but I could not see my children. I
said, I cannot bear this ; I must go and
seek them. I went to the left hand of
the Judge, and there found them al
standing in the utmost despair. A.
soon as they saw me, they caught hold
of me and cried, ‘ O! father, we will
never part.’ I said, ‘my dear chil-
dren, I am come to try, if possible, to
get you out of this awful situation.’
So I took them all with me, but when
we came near the Judge I thought he
cast an angry look, and said, “vVha.
do thy children with thee now’! they
would not take thy warning when on
earth, and they shall not share with
thee the crown in heaven; depart, ye
cursed.’ At these words, I awoke
bathed in tears. A while after this,
as we were all sitting together on a
Sabbath evening, I related to them my
dream. No sooner didI begin that
first one, and then another, yea, all of
them, burst into tears, and God fastened
conviction on their hearts. Five of
them are rejoicing in God their Savior;
and I believe, the Lord is at work’ with
the other two, so thatI doubt not he
will give them also to my prayers.
(cl) HlLL’S REPLY TO THE
CONVERT.——A candidate for admis-
sion to church membership under the
Rev. Rowland Hil‘ being required to
698
N CON VERSIONS.
352
give some account of his first impres-
sions as to the evil of sin, and the need
of the gospel, related a dream by which
he had been affected and led to serious
inquiry, to the hearing of sermons, &c.
When he had ended, Mr. Hill said,
I/Ve do not wish to despise a good man’s
dreams by any means ; but we will
tell you what we think of the dream,
after we have seen how you go on when
you are awake.
8552. Overrnling various Feelings, Actions,
and Events.
(a) GUTHRIE AND THE PA-
PIST.—Mr. Guthrie, an eminent mi-
nister in Scotland, was one evening
traveling home very late. Having lost
his way on a moor, he laid the reins on
the neck of his horse, and committed
himself to the direction of Providence.
After long traveling over ditches and
fields, the horse brought him to a farm-
er’s house, into which he went, and
requested permission to sit by the fire
till morning, which was granted. A
popish priest was administering extreme
unction to the mistress of the house,
who was dying. Mr. Guthrie said no-
thing till the priest had retired: then
he went forward to the dying woman,
and asked her if she enjoyed peace in
the prospect of death, in consequence
of what the priest had said and done to
her. She answered, that she did not;
on which he spoke to her of salvation
through the atoning blood of the Re-
deemer. The Lord taught her to un-
derstand, and enabled her to believe
the message of mercy, and she died
triumphing in Jesus Christ her Savior.
After witnessing this astonishing scene,
Mr. Guthrie mounted his horse, and
rode home. On his arrival, he told
Mrs. Guthrie he had seen a great won-
der during the night. “ I came,” said
he, “to a farm-house, where I found
a woman in a state of nature; I saw
her in a state of grace ; and left her in
a state of glory.”
(b) THE DYING MlNISTER’S
DISSOLUTE SON.-—Mr. Nathan Da-
vies, the eldest son of a respectable
Christian minister in Wales, was a
youth of wild and dissolute conduct,

---—-—-
and thereby occasioned much grief’ to
his pious parents. Neitl.er the mild
nor the severe methods used to reclaim
him had the desired effect. At length,
a period arrived when the aged and
venerable father must die; and, like
Jacob, he desired that his children
should be called to his bedside, to re-
ceive his dying admonitions. Having
addressed them all, one by one, except
the profligate son, in a very affectionate
and solemn manner, he concluded by
warning them to shun the bad example
and wicked ways of their eldest brother,
and advised them to act towards him
with caution and forbearance, adding,
that he feared they would experience
from him nothing but sorrow and trou-
ble. He then dismissed them, and soon
after died.
The circumstance of the father’s
silence made a deeper impression on
the mind of Nathan than all the re-
proofs and exhortations he had before
received; and, to use his own expres-
sion, he thought at the time that his
heart would have burst. He was then
about twenty-seven years of age ; and,
through the Divine blessing, a great
change became visible in him; he
abandoned his former ways and com-
panions, became a serious hearer of the
word, and, in a short time, a member
of the church over which his late father
had been pastor. A few years after-
wards he was called to the mmistry,
succeeded his father in the pastoral
office, and was blessed in it with emi-
nent success until the day of his death,
which took place in the year 1726.
(c) HO'WE AND HIS ENEMY.
—When the melancholy state of the
times compelled this excellent man to
quit the public charge of his beloved
congregation at Torrington, in Devon-
shire, impressed with a sense of duty,
he embraced every opportunity of
preaching the word of life. He and
Mr. F lavel used frequently to conduct
their secret ministrations at midnight
in different houses in the north of De-
vonshire. One of the principal of these
was Hudscott, an ancient mansion be.
longing to the family of Rolle, between
Torrington and Southmolton. Yet, even
here, the observant eye of n alevolencc
699
$52
PROVIDENCE.
-—-

was upon them. Mr. Howe had been
officiating there, in a dark and tem-
ptstuous wintry night, when an alarm
was made that information had been
given, and a warrant granted to appre-
hend him. It was judged prudent for
nim to quit the house; but in riding
over a large common, he and his ser-
vant missed their way. After several
fruitless efforts to recover it, the at-
tendant went forward to seek for a ha-
b1tation, where they might either find
directions or a lodging. He soon dis-
covered a mansion, and received a
cheerful invitation to rest there for the
night. But how great was Mr. Howe’s
surprise, to find, on his arrival, that the
house belonged to his most inveterate
enemy, a country magistrate, who had
often breathed the most implacable
vengeance against him, and, as he had
reason to believe, was well acquainted
with the occasion of his traveling at
such an hour. However, he put the
best face he could upon it, and even
mentioned his name and residence to
the gentleman, trusting to Providence
for the result. His host ordered supper
to be provided, and entered into a
lengthened conversation with his guest;
and was so delighted with his company,
that it was a very late hour before he
could permit him to retire to his cham-
ber. In the morning, Mr. Howe ex-
pected to be accosted with a commit-
ment, and sent to Exeter; but, on the
contrary, he was received by the family
at breakfast with a very hospitable wel-
come. After mutual civilities, he de-
parted to his own abode, greatly won-
dering to himself at the kindness of a
man from whom he had before dreaded
so much.
Not long after, the gentleman sent
for Mr. Howe, who found him confined
to his bed by sickness, and still more
deeply wounded with the sense of sin.
He acknowledged that, when Mr. Howe
came first to his door, he inwardly re-
joiced that he had an opportunity of
exercising his malice upon him, but
that his conversation and his manner
insensibly awed him into respect. He
had long ruminatcd on the observations
which had fallen from the man of God,
and was become a penitent, earnestly

anxious for the blessings of eternal life.
From that sickness he recoyered, be-
came an eminent Christian, a friend to
the conscientious, and an intimate com-
panion of the man whom he had threat-
ened with his vengeance.
(at) THE DUMB SERMON EF.
FECTUAL.—The Rev. William Terr.-
nant once took much pains to prepare a
sermon, to convince a celebrated infidel
of the truth of Christianity. But, in
attempting to deliver this labored dis-
course, he was so confused, as to be
compelled to stop, and close the service
by prayer. This unexpected failure, in
one who had so often astonished the un-
believer with the force of his eloquence,
led the infidel to reflect that Mr. T. had
been, at other times, aided by a Divine
power. This reflection proved the
means of his conversion. Thus God
accomplished by silence what his serv-
ant wished to effect by persuasive
preaching. Mr. Tennant used after-
wards to say, his dumb sermon was one
of the most profitable sermons that he
had ever delivered.
(6) THE DRUNKARD’S CON-
VERSlON.—-In a regiment of soldiers
stationed at Edinburgh, there wasaser-
geant named Forbes, a very abandoned
man, who got in debt for liquor wher-
ever he could. His wife washed for
the regiment, and thus obtained a little
money. She was a pious woman, but
all her attempts to reclaim him were
long unsuccessful. During one of Mr.
Whitefield’s visits to that city, she ot-
fered her husband asum of money if he
would for once go and hear him. This
was a strong inducement, and he en-
gaged to go. The sermon was in a
field, as no building could have contain-
ed the audience. The sergeant was ra-
ther early, and placed himself in the
middle of the field, that he might file off
when Mr. Whitefield ascended the pul-
pit ; as he only wished to be able to say
that he had seen him. The crowd, how-
ever, increased ; and when Mr. White-
field appeared, they pressed forward, and
he found it impossible to get away. The
prayer produced some impression on his
mind, but the sermon most deeply con-
vinced him of his sinfulness and danger.
He became. an altered man, and proved
700
IN CONVERSIONS.
352
0-?
the reality of his conversion, by living for
many years with the strictest economy,
in order to liquidate the claims of every
one of his creditors.
THE MATHEMATICIAN
CONFOUNDED.—-A young man, who
had graduated at one of the first col-
leges in America, and was celebrated
for his literary attainments, particularly
his knowledge of mathematics, settled
in a village where a faithful minister
of the gospel was stationed. It was not
long before the clergyman met with
him in one of his evening walks, and
after some conversation, as they were
about to part, addressed him as follows:
“I have heard you are celebrated for
your mathematical skill 5 I have a prob-
lem which I wish you to solve.” “ What
is it ?” eagerly inquired the young
man. The clergyman answered, with
a solemn tone of voice, “ What shall it
profit a man, if he shall gain the whole
world, and lose l"is own soul '2” The
youth returned nome, and endeavored
to shake off the impression fastened on
him by the problem proposed to him,
but in vain. In the giddy round of
pleasure, in his business, and in his
studies, the question still forcibly re-
turned to him, “What shall it profit a
man, if he shall gain the Whole world,
and lose his own soul 2” It finally re-
sulted in his conversion, and he became
an able advocate and preacher of that
gospel which he once rejected.
(g) THE MERCHANT TURNED
PREACHER.--Peter Waldo was a citi-
zen and opulent merchant of Lyons, and
at one period a believer of the errors of
popery. Being in company, however,
with some friends, one of whom sudden-
ly fell dead to the ground, he was
aroused to the importance of religious
truth, and led to inquire seriously after
it. So deeply was he impressed with
the superior value of eternal things,
that he gave up his mercantile occupa-
tions, distributed his wealth to the poor,
exhorted his neighbors to seek the bread
of life, and became a most eminent min-
ister in the Waldensian churches, who
are thus designated from him.
(it) THE ACTRESS AND THE
C()TTAGER’S FAMILY.-—-An ac-
tress in one of the English provincial or

country theatres, was one day passing
through the streets of the town in which
she then resided, when her attention
was attracted by the sound of voices,
which she heard in a poor cottage te-
fore her. Curiosity prompted her to
look in at an open door, when she saw
a few poor people sitting together, one
of whom, at the moment of her observa-
tion, was giving out the following hymn,
which the others joined in singing ;——-
“ Depth of mercy ! can there be
Mercy still reserved for me 2”
The tune was sweet and simple, but
she heeded it not. The words had riv-
eted her attention, and she stood motion-
less, until she was invited to enter, by
the woman of the house, who had ob-
served her standing at the door. She
complied, and remained during a pray-
er which was otfered up by one of the
little company 5 and uncouth as the
expressions sounded, perhaps, to her
ears, they carried with them a convic-
tion of sincerity, on the part of the per-
son then employed. She quitted the
cottage, but the words of the hymn fol-
lowed her. She could not banish them
from her mind, and at last she resolved
to procure the book which contained it.
She did so, and the more she read it,
the more decided her serious impres-
sions became. She attended the minis-
try of the gospel, read her hitherto neg-
lected and despised Bible, and bowed
herself in humility and contrition of
heart, before him whose mercy she now
felt she needed, whose sacrifices are
those of a broken heart and a contrite
spirit, and who has declared, that with
such sacrifices he is well pleased.
Her professsion she determined at
once and for ever to renounce 5 and for
some little time excused herself from
appearing on the stage, without, howev-
er, disclosing her change of sentiments
or making known her resolution finally
to leave it.
The manager of the theatre called
upon her one morning, and requested
her to sustain the principal character in
a new play which was to be performed
the next week for his benefit. She had
frequently performed this character to
general admiration 5 but she now, how-
701
352
PROVIDENCE.
ever, told him her resolution never to
appear as an actress again, at the same
time giving her reasons. At first he
attempted to overcome her scruples by
ridicule, but this was unavailing; he
then represented the loss he should in-
cur by her refusal, and concluded his
arguments by promising, that if to oblige
him, she would act on this occasion, it
should be the last reques of the kind he
would ever make. Unable to resist his
solicitations, she promised to appear,
and on the appointed evening went to
the theatre. The character she as-
sumed required her, on her first entrance
to sing a song; and when the curtain
drew up, the orchestra immediately be-
gan the accompaniment. But she stood
as if lost in thought, and as one forget-
ting all around her, and her own situa-
tion. The music ceased, but she did
not sing ; and supposing her to be over-
come by embarrassment, the band
again commenced. A second time they
paused for her to begin, and still she
did not open her lips. A third time
the air was played, and then, with
clasped hands, and eyes suffused with
tears, she sang, not the words of the
song, but,
“ Depth of mercy ! can there be
Mercy still reserved for me 2'’
It is almost needless to add, that the
performance was suddenly ended ;
many ridiculed, though some were in-
duced from that memorable night to
“ consider their ways,” and to reflect on
the Wonderful power of that religion
which could so influence the heart, and
change the life of one hitherto so vain,
and so evidently pursuing the road
Which leadeth to destruction.
It would be satisfactory to the reader
to know, that the change in Miss
was as permanent as it was singular;
she walked consistently with her pro-
fession of religion for many years, and
at length became the wife of a minister
of the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.
(2') THE CHRISTIAN’S GLOOMY
DEATH»-A pious parent had three
sons, who, notwithstanding all his ad-
monitions and instructions, mingled with
many prayers and tears, grew up to
manhood in skepticism and profligacy.


_
The father lay dying; and, conceiving
that it might perhaps produce a good
impression on the minds of his aban-
doned children, to let them see how a
Christian dies, the friends of the family
introduced them to the bedside of their
expiring parent. But, to their unspeak-
able grief, the good man died without
any expressions of Christian confidence,
and appeared destitute of those strong
consolations which believers in Jesus
usually experience in the closing scene.
I t was now apprehended that the effect
of this melancholy circumstance on the
young men would be to confirm them in
their prejudice against religion, and af-
ford them, in their opinion, a sufficient
evidence that it is all a cunningly de-
vised fable. However, it was not so :
the ways of God are not as our ways,
neither are his thoughts as our thoughts.
A few days after the funeral, the youn-
ger brother entered the room in which
the other two were 5 and observing that
he had been weeping, they inquired the
cause of his grief, “ I have been think-
ing,” said he, “ of the death of our fath-
er.” “ Ah,” said they, "' a dismal death
it was 5 what truth or reality can there
be in religion, when such a man as he
died in such a state of mind ?” “It
has not affected me in this way,” re-
plied the younger brother ; “ We all
know what a holy life our father led,
and what a gloomy death he died ; now
I have been thinking, how dreadful our
death must be, who lead such a wicked
life I” The observation was like an
arrow to their consciences; and they
began to be alarmed. They repaired
to the ordinances of religion, which, in
their father’s life time they had neglect-
ed, and ultimately became as eminent
for piety as their exemplary parent had
been.
SAY YOUR PRAYERS IN
FAIR WEATHER.-—A sea captain
of a profligate character, who command-
ed a vessel trading between Liverpool
and America, during the last war, once
took on board a man as a common sailor,
to serve during the voyage, just as he
was leaving port. The new comer was
soon found to be of a most quarrelsome,
untractable disposition, a furious blas-
phemer, and, when an opportunity of-
702
IN CONVERSION S.
352
~---—

fered, a drunkard. Besides all these
disqualifications, he was wholly ignorant
of nautical affairs, or counterfieited
ignorance to escape duty. In short, he
was the bane and plague of the vessel,
and refused obstinately to give any ac-
count of himself, or his family, or past
life.
At length a violent storm arose, all
hands were piped upon deck, and all,
as the captain thought, were too few to
save the ship. When the men were
mustered to their quarters, the sturdy
blasphemer was missing, and my friend
went below to seek for him; great was
his surprise at finding him on his knees,
repeating the Lord’s prayer with won-
derful rapidity, over and over again, as
if he had bound himself to countless
reiterations. Vexed at what he deemed
hypocrisy or cowardice, he shook him
roughly by the collar, exclaiming, “say
your prayers in fair weather.” The
man rose up, observing in a low voice,
“ God grant I may ever see fair weather
to say them.”
In a few hours the storm happily
abated, a week more brought them to
harbor, and an incident so trivial passed
quickly away from the memory of the
captain; the more easily, as the man
in question was paid off the day after
landing, and appeared not again.
Four years more had elapsed, during
which, though the captain had twice
been shipwrecked, and was grievously
hurt by the falling of a spar, he pursued
without amendment a life of profligacy
and contempt of God. At the end of
this period, he arrived in the port of
New-York, after a very tedious and
dangerous voyage from England.
It was on a Sabbath morning, and the
atreets were thronged with persons pro-
ceeding to the several houses of worship,
ti ith which that city abounds-—but the
captain was bent on far other occupa-
tion, designing to drown the recollection
of perils and deliverances, in a cele-
brated tavern which he had too long,
and too often frequented-.
As he walked leisurely towards this
goal, he encountered a very dear friend,
a quondam associate of many a thought-
less hour. Salutations over, the captain
seized him by the arm, declaring that

|_——--‘-—--_ ‘I.

he should accompany him to the hotel.
“I will do so,” replied the other. with
great calmness, “ on condition that you
come with me first for a single hour into
this house, (a church,) and thank God
for his mercies to you on the deep. The
captain was ashamed to refuse, sc
the two friends entered the temple to-
gether. Already all the seats were
occupied, and a dense crowd filled the
aisle ; and by dint of personal exertion,
they succeeded in reaching a pcsition
right in front of the pulpit, at about five
yards distance. The preacher, one of
the most popular of the day, riveted the
attention of the entire congregation, in-
cluding the captain himself, to whom
his features and voice, though he could
not assign any time or place of previous
meeting, seemed not wholly unknown,
particularly when he spoke with anima-
tion. At length the preacher’s eye fell
upon the spot where the two friends
stood. He suddenly paused——still gaz-
ing upon the captain, as if to make him-
self sure that he labored under no optical
delusion—and after a silence of more
than a minute, pronounced with a voice
that shook the building, “ say your
prayers in fair weather.”
The audience were lost in amaze-
ment, nor was it until a considerable
time had elapsed, that the preacher re-
covered suflicient self-possession to re-
count the incident with which the reader
is already acquainted, adding, with deep
emotion, that the words which his cap-
tain uttered in the storm, had clung to
him by day and by night after his
landing, as if an angel had been charged
with the duty of repeating them in his
ears-—that he felt the holy call as com-
ing direct from above, to do the work
of his crucified Master-—that he had
studied at college for the ministry, and
was now, through grace, such as they
saw and heard.
At the conclusion of this afl‘ecting
address, he called on the audience to
join in prayer with himself, that the
same words might be blessed in turn to
him who first had used them. But God
had outrun their petitions—-the captain
was already His child, before his former
shipmate had ceased to tell his story.
The power of the Spirit had wrought
703
352, 353
PROVIDENCE.
——-~ --
cffectually upon him, and subdued every
lofty imagination. And so, when the
people dispersed, he exchanged the
notel for the house of the preacher, with
whom he tarried six weeks, and parted
from him to pursue his profession, with
a heart devoted to the service of his
Savior, and with holy and happy assur-
ances which advancing years hallowed,
strengthened, and sanctified.
(Ir) CONVERSION OF THE HAL-
DANES.-——The Rev. James Haldane
(pastor of one of the Baptist churches
in Edinburgh, Scotland), says Rev. Mr.
Turnbull, was a junior member of a
highly respectable and wealthy family.
In his youth, he became connected with
the British navy, and rose to the post
of captain, in one of his majesty’s war
ships. On one occasion, being engaged
in a warmly contested battle, he saw
the whole of his men on deck swept off
by a tremendous broadside from the
enemy. He ordered another company
to be “piped up” from below, to take
the place of their lost companions. On
coming up, they saw their mangled re-
mains strewn upon the deck, and were
seized with a sudden and irresistible
panic. On seeing this, the captain
jumped up, and swore a horrid oath,
imprecating the vengeance of Almighty
God upon the whole of them, and wish-
ing that they might all sink to hell. An
old marine, who was a pious man,
stepped up to him, and respectfully
touching his hat, said :-—“Captain, I
believe God hears prayer; and if God
had heard your prayer just now, what
would have become of us ?” Having
spoken this, he made a respectful bow,
and retired to his place. After the
engagement, the captain calmly reflect-
ed upon the words of the old marine,
and was so deeply affected by them,
that he devoted his attention to the
claims of religion, and was subsequently
converted to God.
Of course he informed his brother
Robert of his change of views, but in-
stead of being gratified by it, his brother
was greatly offended, and requested
him never to enter his house till he had
changed his views. “Very well, Ro-
bert,” said James, “ but I have one
comfort in the case, and that is, you

cannot prevent my praying for you ;"
and holding out his hand, he bade him
good-bye. His brother Robert was
much affected by this; he could not
get rid of the idea that his brother was
constantly praying for him. He saw
the error of his ways, and after much
investigation and reflection, became a
decided Christian.
Some years afterwards, Robert Hal-
dane made a journey to the Continent
and settled for some time in Geneva.
He was much affected with the low
spiritual condition of the Protestant
church there, which had become infect-
ed with the rationalistic and neological
views prevalent in Germany. Indeed,
the clergy themselves, had so far
departed from the faith of the Reforma-
tion, as to reject almost all the funda-
mental doctrines of the gospel, particu-
larly the divinity of Christ, and the
doctrine of atonement. Mr. Haldane
made himself acquainted with the
students attending the divinity school in
Geneva, and invited a number of them
to his house, and, by free conversation,
endeavored to teach them the gospel,
and the nature of spiritual religion.
This be frequently repeated, till at last,
God blessed his efforts to the conversion
of ten or twelve of them. Among them
were Felix Nef, subsequently pastor in
the high Alps, and one of the purest
and most devoted men that ever lived.
Henry Pyt, another well-known and
truly pious man, and Henry Merle
D’Anbz'gne, well known throughout the
literary and religious world, as the au-
thor of the History of the Reformation,
and President of the New Evangelical
School of Theology in Geneva.
853. Trust in Providence.
(a) THE WIDOW’S PRAYER
ANSWERED.——A correspondent of
THE TRACT MAGAZINE gives the follow-
ing account as she had it from the lips
of a pious widow of her acquain ance :
“One evening we were eating our
supper, we had nothing but bread, and
of that not sufficient to satisfy our hun-
ger. ‘Mother,’ said little John, when
he was finishing his last morsel, ‘ what
shall we do to-morrow morning? there
704
TRUST IN PROVIDENCE.
353
is no bread in the house; we shall have
no breakfast.’ I answered him, ‘ Do
not fear, John: God has not forsaken
us : let us pray to him, and be assured
he will remember us.’ I made him
kneel down by my side, and prayed to
God, that he would in his goodness have
pity upon us, and give us bread for the
morrow. I then put my child to bed,
telling him to go to sleep quietly, and to
depend upon his God, who never forget
those who put their trust in him. I
myself went to bed, firmly believing
that my God had heard my prayer, and,
commending myself to the protection of
our Lord Jesus Christ, I slept comfort-
ably till four in the morning, when John
woke me; ‘I/Iother,’ said he, ‘is the
bread come '2’ Poor little fellow! he
had but a scanty supper, and was very
hungry. ‘No,’ I answered, ‘it is not
yet come, but be quiet, and go to sleep
again; it will come.’ We both went
to sleep : I was awakened a little before
six in the morning by some one rapping
at my window. ‘Dame Bartlet,’ said a
woman, ‘you must get up immediately,
Mrs. Martin’s dairymaid is taken very
ill, and you must come and milk her
cowsz’ here then was bread for us. I
went to Mrs. Martin’s, and milked her
cows, and afterwards sat down in the
kitchen to breakfast; but I thought of
my child, and could not eat. Mrs.
Martin observing me, said, ‘ You do not
eat your breakfast, Dame Bartlet.’ I
thanked her, and told her I had left a
little boy at home in bed, very hungry;
if she would permit me, I should prefer
carrying my breakfast home to him.
‘ Eat your breakfast now,’ was the kind
answer of Mrs. Martin ; ‘you shall
carry some breakfast home to your
little boy besides.’ Mrs. Martin then
gave me a basket of provisions, sufficient
for myself and child for two or three
days. As I returned home, I could not
but thank my God, and feel grateful to
him, and my kind benefactress: I re-
joiced my little boy’s heart by a sight
of my breakfast. He got up directly,
eager to partake of Mrs. Martin’s kind-
ness: after a good breakfast, I made
him kneel down again by my side,
whilst I returned thanks to our gra‘cious
God, who and heard our prayers the

evening before, and who aad given us
a kind benefactress. When we rose, I
took him in my lap, and said to him,
‘Now, John, I hope what has happened
to us will be remembered by you
through your whole life. Last evening
we had eaten all our bread, we had
none left for this morning; but we
prayed to God that, through his mnrcy,
and for the sake of his Son Jesus Christ,
he would give us our uaily bread. God
has heard us, and has given us bread:
may this teach you through life to put
your trust and faith in your heavenly
Father. I most earnestly pray to God
that you may never forget this.’ ”
Dame Bartlet concluded her interest-
ing narrative by adding, “ And, madam,
I have never wanted bread since. I
am blessed in my son, who is now a
man ; he is dutiful and good to me, and
has never forgotten the pains his mother
took with him in his childhood; nor
the exhoration I then gave him, to trust
in God.”
(b) THE PERSECUTED WO-
MAN FED.——A pious woman in the
days of persecution, used to say, she
should never want, because her God
would supply her every need. She
was taken before an unjust judge for
attending the worship of God. The
judge, on seeing her, tauntingly saidI
“I have often wished to have you in
my power, and now I shall send you to
prison, and then how will you be fed 2"
She replied, “If it be my heavenly
Father’s pleasure,I shall be fed from
your table.” And that was literally
the case; for the judge’s wife being
present at her examination, was greatly
surprised with the good woman’s firm-
ness, and took care to send her victuals
from her table, so that she was com-
fortably supplied all the time she was
in confinement; and the other found
her reward, for the Lord was pleased
to convert her soul, and give her the
blessings of his salvation.
(c) “ BREAD SHALL BE GIVEN
THEE/’—-In a large and populous
village, in one of the hundreds, or
wapentakes of Yorkshire, England,
lived a poor, but honest and pious man,
whose name was Jonathan. He was
an afflicted man, and much paralyzed
45
705
353
PROVIDENCE.
ny disease. He had a wife, and two
or three children, whose chief depend-
ence in life was upon his small earn-
ings. Jonathan was patient, industrious,
and persevering in his efforts to provide
for himself and for his household, all
of whom were content with homely
fare. At the time the writer of this
account knew ‘him, he might be from
forty to fifty years of age. Amongst
other occurrences of his life, he says, I
distinctly recollect the following, which
he related to me :—
During the time of harvest, while
employed in gathering the fruits of the
earth, he accidentally slipped from the
top of a barley-mow, and sprained one
or both of his ankles; in consequence
of which he was confined to his room
and bed for some weeks. It is unne-
cessary to state, that in the meantime,
his family must have felt the loss of his
weekly labor and income. His wife,
on one occasion, went up stairs into his
room weeping. “ What is the matter '2”
said Jonathan, “ what is distressing
thee '2” “ Why, the children are cry-
ing for something to eat, and I have
nothing to give them,” was the affecting
repiy. “ Hast thou faith in God '2”
asked Jonathan. “ Dost thou believe in
his providence, and in his word’.2 Has
he not said, ‘ Bread shall be given thee,
and thy w-ater shall be sure '2’ Isa.
xxxiii. 16. Kneel down,” he contin-
ued, “at the bedside, and pray to God.
Tell him how thy children are circum-
stanced ; that they have no bread ; that
thou hast nothing wherewith to buy
them any ; and Iwill also pray. Who
can tell what God may do’.2 He hear-
eth prayer.”
Jonathan and his wife prayed ear-
nestly together ; they pleaded the prom-
ises of God, and waited the result. Soon
after, a person came to the door with a
loaf of bread. She came from a house
in the immediate neighborhood of Jona-
than, the occupier of which was one of
several branches of a family who were
proprietors of very extensive iron works,
carried on in the village where Jonathan
lived. No sooner did the good woman
receive the loaf of bread, than she ran
to Jonathan to tell him how God had
answered their prayer. “ Now,” said

Jonathan, “before any thing else be
done, kneel down at the bedside, and
return thanks to God for having heard
our prayer.” She did so: they praised
his name together: and then ate their
food with gladness and with singleness
of heart. Not many hours elapsed be-
fore another kind interposition of Provi-
dence presented itself. A second visitor
brought them a joint of meat. When
this was told Jonathan, he replied to his
wife, “ Aye! see! God is even better
than his word ! He promised bread,
and he sends flesh in addition. Kneel
down, and thank him again.”
(d) THE FARMER AND THE
SOLDIERS.--—Soon after the surrender
of Copenhagen to the English, in the
year 1807, detachments of soldiers were,
for a time, stationed in the surrounding
villages. It happened one day that
three soldiers, belonging to a Highland
regiment, were sent to forage among
the neighboring farm-houses. They
went to several, but found them stripped
and deserted. At length they came to
a large garden, or orchard, full of apple
trees, bending under the weight of fruit.
They entered by a gate, and followed a
path which brought them to a neat
farm-house. Every thing without be-
spoke quietness and security ; but as
they entered by the front door, the mis-
tress of the house and her children ran
screaming out by the back. The inte-
rior of the house presented an appear-
ance of order and comfort superior to
what might be expected from people in
that station, and from the habits of the
country. A watch hung by the side
of the fireplace, and a neat book-case,
well filled, attracted the attention of the
elder soldier. He took down a book:
it was written in a language unknown
to him, but the name of Jesus Christ
was legible on every page. At this
moment, the master of the house enter-
ed by the door through which his wife
and childen had just fled.
One of the soldiers, by threatening
signs, demanded provisions: the man
stood firm and undaunted, but shook his
head. The soldier Who held the book
approached him, and pointing to the
name of Jesus Christ, laid his hand up-
on his heart, and looked up to heaven
706
TRUST IN PROVIDENCE.
353
Instantly the farmer grasped l'11S hand,
shook it vehemently, and then ran out
of the room. He soon returned with
his wife and children laden with milk,
eggs, bacon, etc., which were freely
tendered ; and when money was offered
in return, it was at first refused. But
as two of the soldiers were pious men,
they, much to the chagrin of their com-
panion, insisted upon paying for all they
received. When taking leave, the pious
soldiers intimated to the farmer that it
would be well for him to secrete his
watch : but, by the most significant
signs, he gave them to understand that
he feared no evil, for his trust was in
God; and that though his neighbors, on
the right hand and on the left, had fled
from their hahitations, and by foraging
parties had lost what they could not re-
move, not a hair of his head had been
injured, nor had he even lost an apple
from his trees.
“The angel of the Lord encampeth
round about them that fear him, and de-
livereth them.”
(e) INCIDENTS IN STILLlNG’S
LIFE.—-In youth, Stilling was ex-
tremely poor, destitute of the common
comforts and necessaries of life. After
a long season of anxiety and prayer, he
felt satisfied that it was the will of God
that he should go to a university, and
prepare himself for the medical profes-
sion. He did not at first make choice
of a university, but waited for an inti-
mation from his heavenly Father; for
as he intended to study simply from
faith, he would not allow his own will
in any thing. Three weeks after he
had come to this determination, a friend
asked him whither he intended to go.
He replied he did not know. “ O,”
said she, “ our neighbor, Mr. T., is go-
ing to Strasburg, to spend the winter
thefe, go with him.”
This touched Stilling’s heart; he felt
that this was the intimation he had
waited for. Meanwhile, Mr. T. entered
the room, and was heartily pleased with
the proposition. The whole of his wel-
fa1e now depended on his becoming a
physician ; and for this, a thousand dol-
ars at least were requisite, of which he
could not tell in the whole world where

to raise a hundred. He nevertheless
fixed his confidence firmly on God, and
reasoned as follows :
“ God begins nothing without termi-
nating it gloriously. Now, it is most
certainly true, that he alone has order-
ed my present circumstances, entirely
without my co-operatio_n. Consequent-
ly, it is also most certainly true, that he
will accomplish every thing regarding
me in a manner worthy of himself.”
He smilingly said to his friends, who
were as poor as himself—" I wonder
from what quarter my heavenly Father
will provide me with money '2” \Vhen
they expressed anxiety, he said-—-“ Be-
lieve assuredly that he who was able to
feed a thousand people vith a little
bread lives still, and to him I commend
myself. He will certainly find out
means. Do not be anxious, the Lord
will provide.”
F orty-six dollars was all that he could
raise for his journey. He met una-
voidable delay on the way ; and while
at Frankfort, three days’ ride from
Strasburg, he had but a single dollar
left. He said nothing of it to any one,
but waited for the assistance of his
heavenly Father. As he was walking
the streets and praying inwardly to God,
he met Mr. L., a merchant from the
place of his residence, who says to him,
“ Stilling, what brought you here '2”
“I am going to Strasburg, to study
medicine.”
“Where do you get your money tc
study with '2”
“ I have a rich Father in heaven.”
Mr. L. looked steadily at him, and
inquired-—“ How much money have
you on hand ?”
“ One dollar,” said Stilling.
“ So,” said Mr. L. " Well, I’m one
of your Father’s stewards,” and handed
him thirty-three dollars.
Stilling felt warm tears in his eyes ;
says he—“I am now rich enough, I
want no more.”
This first trial made him so coura-
geous, that he no longer doubted that
God would help him through every
thing.
He had been but a short time in
Strasburg, when his thirty-three doll ara
707
353
PROVIDENCE.
.-
had again been reduced to one, on which
account he began again to pray very
earnestly. Just at this time, one morn-
ing, his room-mate, Mr. T., says to him,
“ Stilling,I believe you did not bring
much money with you,” and offered him
thirty dollars in gold, which he gladly
accepted, as an answer to his prayers.
In a few months after this, the time
arrived when he must pay the lecturer’s
fee, or have his name struck from the
list of students. The money was to be
paid by six o’clock on Thursday eve-
ning. Thursday morning came, and
he had no money, and no means of get-
ting any. The day was spent in pray-
er. Five o’clock in the evening came,
and yet there was no money. His
faith began almost to fail ; he broke out
into a perspiration; his face was wet
with tears. Some one knocked at the
door. “Come in,” said he. It was
Mr. R., the gentleman of whom he had
rented the room.
“ I called,” said Mr. R., “ to see how
you like your room 2”
“ Thank you,” said Stil-mg, “ I like
it very much.”
Says Mr. R.—“I thought I would
ask you one other question ; have you
brought any money with
Stilling says he now felt like Habak-
kuk when the angel took him by the
hair of the head to carry him to Baby-
lon. He answered “ No; I have no
money.”
Mr. R. looked at him with surprise,
and at length said, “I see how it is;
God has sent me to help you.”
He immediately left the room, and
soon returned with forty dollars in gold.
Stilling says he then felt like Daniel
in the lion’s den, when Habakkuk
brought him his food. He threw him-
self on the floor, and thanked God with
tears. He then went to the college,
and aid his fee as well as the best.
(f) THE WALKING BIBLE.-—
Of a good man who from his love to the
sacred volume, and his extensive know-
ledge of its contents, was called “the
walking Bible,” it is recorded, that
when he was very young, he was, with
his parents, oppressed with great pov-
erty. In the garden in which their
you Cl”

cottage, or rather horel stood, there
was a large pear-tree, more venerated
for its age than valued for its fruitful-
ness. The mother requested him to
cut it down for firewood. He heard the
request in silence ; she repeated it, and
he still hesitated. At length he said,
“Mother, I ought to obey you, butl
must first obey God. The tree is not
ours. It belongs to our landlord : and
you know that God says,‘ “ Thou shalt
not steal.’ I therefore hope you will
not make me cut it down.” She de-
sisted; for a day or two longer they
endured the cold, when she peremptorily
renewed her demand that the tree
should be cut down. He then said,
“ Mother, the good Being has often help-
ed us, and supplied our want when we
have been in trouble. Let us wait till
this time to-morrow. Then, if we do
not find some relief, though I am sure
it will be wrong, yet if you make me
do it, I will cut down the tree in obe-
dience to your command.” She yield-
ed, and he, in his simple manner,
retired, and in secret earnestly prayed
to God to interfere, and prevent them
from displeasing him by a transgression
of his holy law. He salhed forth the
next morning, and wandering about
found a man whose cart wheel had
broken under a heavy load of coal.
He told his distress to the man, who
was induced to leave the coals for him
to carry away, with the understanding
that whenever he called for the money,
if the family were able, they should
pay it. He never after, however, made
his appearance.
g REV. S. WELLES’ CONFI
DENCE IN GOD.—The Rev. Samuel
Welles, a Christian minister of the sev
enteenth century, constantly trusted the
good providence of God, and was once
told by a doctor of divinity that he lived
better on Providence than the doctor
himself with all his income. Though
this good man had ten or eleven children,
he declared that he had no anxiety
about their support, for God would
surely provide. On this principle he
acted in leaving a situation which
brought him 2001. a year for one the.
yielded only 1001. per annum, that his
708
DHSCELLANEOUS.
——--—
usefulness might be increased ; and
afterwards for the same reason refused
a living of SOUZ.
(it) THE SUFFERERS AT SIG-
ATEA.—During the 17th century,
while the Rev. John Cotton was minis-
ter of Boston, intelligence reached that
town of the distress of the poor Chris-
tians at Sigatea, where a small church
existed, the members of which were
reduced to great extremity of suffering
by persecution. Mr. Cotton imme-
diately began to collect for them, and
sent the sum of £700 for their relief.
It is remarkable, that this relief arrived
the very day after they had divided
their last portion of meal, without any
prospect than that of dying a lingering
death, and immediately after their pas-
tor, Mr. White, had preached to them
from Psalm xxiii. 1, “The Lord is my
Shepherd ; I shall not want.”
(2') THE DYING MINISTER’S
FAMILY.-—“I have known,” says an
English writer, “ wonderful proofs of the
faithfulness of the Lord in answering
the prayers of parents who left young
and helpless families behind. A friend
of mine in the west of England, (a
faithful laborious minister, but who, I
believe, never was master of five pounds
at a time,) was dying.
His friends advised him to make his
will; he replied, “I have nothing to
leave but my wife and children, and I
leave them to the care of my gracious
God.” Soon after this he died, happily.
But there appeared no prospect of sup-
port for his family at this time. The
Lord, however, stirred up a man, who
had always despised his preaching, to
feel for the deceased minister’s poor,
destitute family, and he so exerted him-
self, that he was the means of £1,600,
being raised by subscriptions for them ;
and the clergy of Exeter, who had
never countenanced his preaching, gave
his widow a house and garden for life,
so that she lived in far greater plenty
than in her husband’s lifetime. Why
was all this’.2 It was in answer to the
prayers of the good man, who commit-
ted his wife and family to that God who
could supply all their needs, and who
he knew was able to open the ‘core of
relief for them.

353, 354
M
364. Miscellaneous
(a) A BIRD’S FLIGHT DECIDING
THE SPREAD OF MOHAMME_
DANISM.——The great drama of a na-
tion’s politics, and the most mighty
changes in the history and character of
mankind, may hinge on circumstances
of the most trivial nature. One of the
most remarkable instances of this sort is
found in the history of Mohammed. When
his pursuers followed hard upon him to
take his life, they were turned away from
the mouth of the cave in which he had the
moment before taken shelter, by the
flight of a bird from one of the shrubs
that grew at its entry! For they infer-
red that if he had recently passed that
way, the bird must previously rave
been frightened away, and woulo not
now have made its appearance. It is a
striking remark of the historian, that
this bird, by its flight on this occasion.
changed the destiny of the world--in-
strumental as it was in perpetuating the
life of the false Prophet, and with him
the reign of that superstition which to
this day hath a wider ascendency over
ourspecies than Christianity itself. Such
are the links and concatenations of all
history. It is well that God has the
management, and that what to man is
chaos, in the hands of God is a sure and
unerring mechanism.
(1)) SKEPTICAL SAILOR CON.
VIN CED—-A careless sailor, on going
to sea, replied to his religious brother in
words like these: “ Tom, you talk a
great deal about religion and Provi-
dence; and if I should be wrecked, and
a ship was to heave in sight and take
me ofl',I SLIPPUSG you would call it a
merciful Providence. It's all very
well, but I believe no such thing ; these
things happen like other things, by mere
chance, and you call it Providence,
that’s all.’ ’ He went upon his voyage,
and the case he put hypothetically was
soon literally true; he was wrecked,
and remained upon the wreck three
days, when a ship appeared, and, seeing
their signal of distress, came to their
relief. He returned, and, in relating it,
said to his brother, “Oh! Tom, when
that ship hove in sight, my words to you
came in a moment into my mind; it
709
354,355
PUNCTUALITY.
was like a bolt of thunder. I have
never got rid of it, and now I think it
no more than an act of common grati-
tude to give myself up to Him who
pitied and saved me.”
(c) COMPLAINING AGAINST
PROVIDENCE.-——A person with not
very ample means of support, was bur-
thened with a large family. A neigh-
bor had just called to tell him of a
friend who had got a prize in a lottery,
when he was also informed of the birth of
his twelfth child. He exclaimed,
peevishly, “ God sends meat to others,

children to me.” It so happened, that
God, at whose government he had so im-
piously murmured, sent him those riches
he longed for. But as he sent him the
wished-for wealth, he deprived him of
the children he had complained of. He
saw them one by one go to the grave
before him; and in advanced life,
and great affluence, when he endured
the stroke of having his last beloved
daughter taken from his eyes, he bit-
terly remembered (it is hoped with salu-
ary bitterness) his former rebellious
murmurings against God.
355. PUN CT UALITY.
(a) WASTING OTHERS’ TIME.
——A committee of eight ladies, in the
neighborhood of London, was appointed
to meet on a certain day at twelve
o’clock. Seven of them were punc-
tual ; but the eighth came hurrying in,
with many apologies for being a quar-
ter of an hour behind time. The time
had passed away without her being
aware of it ; she had no idea of its -being
so late, etc. A Quaker lady present,
said, “ Friend, I am not so clear that
we should admit thine apology. It
were matter of regret that thou shouldst
have wasted thine own quarter of an
hour; but here are seven besides thy-
self, whose time thou hast also consum-
ed, amounting in the whole to two
hours, and seven-eighths of it was not
thine own property.”
(7)) MELANCTHON’S EXAM-
PLE.-—It is said of Melancthon, the cele-
brated reformer and colleague of Mar-
tin Luther, that when he made an ap-
pointment, he expected not only the
hour, but the minute to be fixed, that
the day might not run out in the idle-
ness of suspense.
(0) WILLIAM PENN’S EXAM-
PLE.——Few men have been more dis-
tinguished for vigorous exertions of
various kinds, than the worthy and well
known William Penn. If we consider
the number of books which he wrote
and published, the number and diflicult
active engagements in which he was

occupied, and the almost incessant trou-
bles and interruptions to which he was
subject, we shall wonder how it was
possible for him to accomplish what he
did. He who reads attentively the life of
this eminent man, written by Mr. Clark-
son, will find that the secret of his ex-
traordinary despatch in study, writing
and business, was his punctuality.
(cl) BLACKSTONE’S EXAM-
PLE.--Of Sir William Blackstone we
are informed, that in reading his lec-
tures, it could not be remembered that he
ever made his audience wait, even for
a few minutes, beyond the time appoint-
ed. Indeed punctuality, in his opinion,
was so much a virtue, that he could not
bring himself to think perfectly well of
any who was notoriously defective in
this practice.
(6) WAY TO PROMOTE PUNC-
TUALITY. —— The residence of the
Rev. David Brown in Calcutta, was at
a considerable distance from the Mission
Church, where he preached; but no
weather ever deterred him from meet-
ing the people at the stated periods of
Divine service. And when on any oc-
casion, and even in cases of indisposition
he was urged to postpone the service,
he would not consent; for, he would
observe, “If the hearers once find a
minister to be irregular in his attend-
ance on them, they will become irregu-
lar in attending him; but when my
congregation sees that no inconvenience
710
PUNCTUALITY.
355
~-
whatever makes me neglect them, they
will be ashamed to keep away on any
frivolous pretext.”
EXAMPLE OF WASHING-
TON.-—When General I/Vashington
assigned to meet congress at noon, he
never failed to be passing the door of
the hall while the clock was striking
twelve.-—-Whether his guests were
present or not, he always dined at four.
Not unfrequently new members of con-
gress, who were invited to dine with
him, delayed until dinner was half over,
and he would then remark, “ gentlemen,
we are punctual here.” When he
visited Boston in 1788, he appointed eight
A. M. as the hour when he should set
out for Salem, and while the Old South
church clock was striking eight, he was
mounting his horse. The company of
cavalry, which volunteered to escort
him, were parading in Tremont-street,
after his departure, and it was not until
the President reached Charles River
Bridge, that they overtook him. On
the arrival of the corps, the President,
with perfect good nature, said, “ Major,
I thought you had been too long in my
family, not to know when it was eight
o’clock.” Captain Pease, the father of
the stage establishment in the United
States, had a beautiful pair of horses
which he wished to dispose of to the
President, whom he knew to be an ex-
cellent judge of horses. The President
appointed five o’clock in the morning to
examine them. But the captain did
not arrive with the horses until a quar-
ter after five, when he was told by the
groom that the President was there at
five and was then fulfilling other engage-
ments. Pease, much mortified, was
obliged to wait a week for another op-
portunity, merely for delaying the first
quarter 0/‘ an hour.
(g) BREWER’S PUNCTUAL-
ITY. —- The Rev. S. Brewer was
distinguished for punctuality. When

a youth in college, he was never known
to be a minute behind time in attending
lectures of the tutors, or the family
prayers, at which the young men who
boarded in private families were expect-
ed to assemble. One morning the
students were collected; the clock
struck seven, and all rose up for pray-
er; but the tutor observing that Mr.
Brewer was not present, paused awhile.
Seeing nim enter the room, he thus ad-
dressed him 5 ‘Sir, the clock has
struck, and we are ready to begin 5 but
as vou were absent, we supposed the
clock was too fast, and therefore
waited.”—-The clock was actually too
fast by some minutes.
(it) CURING A CONGREGATION.
-—-A punctual minister once had the mis-
fortune to succeed a tardy man who had
had the congregation in charge for some
years. He despaired of reforming them
in great matters if he could not reform
them in small. He found them in the
habit of meeting at twelve o’clock though
the hour appointed and agreed upon was
eleven. The preacher knew his duty
and begun at the minute. The first day
after his settlement his sermon was well
nigh closed before most of his congrega-
tion arrived. Some actually arrived just
at the benediction. They were confound-
ed. He made no apology. He only asked
the seniors if they would prefer any other
time than eleven o’clock and he would
be sure to attend. A few weeks passed
and the house was regularly full
and waiting for the minute. The
preacher never failed in twenty years,
except in a few cases of indisposit1on,
to commence at the hour appointed.
His congregation became as punctual
and circumspect in other matters as in
their attendance at church 5 for it is
almost impossible to be habitually punc-
tual in one class of duties and to be re-
miss in all others.
711
356
PUNISHMENT OF THE _WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE.

PUNISHMENT 0F THE WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE.
3&6. Because their Remorse is not Commen-
surate with their Guilt.
(a) THE TWO GREEK PI-
RATES,——Two Greeks, notorious for
their piracies and other crimes, were,
in 1829, tried and condemned, and three
days after executed at Malta. In the
course of the trial, it appeared that the
beef and anchovies, on board one of the
English vessels which they pirated,
were left untouched, and the circum-
stances under which they were left ap-
peared to the court so peculiar, that the
culprits were asked the cause of it. They
promptly answered that it was at the time
of the great fast, when their church ate
neither me at nor fish. They appeared
to be most hardened and abandoned
wretches, enemies alike to their own and
every other nation, and yet rigidly
maintaning their religious character:
and while they were robbing, plunder-
ing, and murdering and stealing the
women and children of their country-
men, and selling them to the Turks,
and committing other atrocious deeds,
they would have us understand that
they were not so wicked as to taste
meat or fish, when prohibited by the
canons of their church I Had a single
drop of the blood of the murdered
been, by means of the blows inflicted,
spattered on their lips, and thus by
chance passed into their mouth, they
would probably have felt in continual
danger of the fire that shall never be
quenched, until they could have visited
some church, confessed and done penance
for having tasted something of an animal
nature in the season of a fast. I do not
know, indeed, says Mr. Goodell, that
they would have manifested such igno-
rance and superstition, but it would
have given me no surprise to hear that
they did; and moreover, that they de-
rived their principal hopes of success,
in their villainous and horrid traffic,
from a strict attention to the require-
ments of their religion.
(Z7) THE PIRATE GIBBS.-—This
rnan, whose name was for many years

a terror to commerce with the West
Indies and South America, was at last
taken captive, tried, condemned, and ex-
ecuted in the city of New-York. He
acknowledged before his death that
when he committed the first murder and
plundered the first ship, his compunctions
were severe, conscience was on the
rack, and made a hell within his bosom.
But after he had sailed for years under
the black flag, his conscience became so
hardened and blunted, that he could rob
a vessel and murder all its crew and
then lie down and sleep as sweetly at
night as an infant in its cradle. His
remorse diminished as his crimes in-
creased. So it is generally. If therefore
remorse in this life is God’s way of
punishing crimes, the more they sin the
less he punishes them! How absurd!
(0) THE SHEPHERD AND THE
PRIEST.—A Neapolitan shepherd came
in anguish to his priest, saying, “Fa-
ther have mercy on a miserable sinner.
It is the holy season of Lent 5 and while
I was busy at work, some whey spurt-
ing from the cheese-press flew into my
mouth, and, wretched man, I swallow-
ed it. Free my distressed conscience
from its agonies by absolving me from
my guilt I” “ Have you no other sins
to confess '2” said his spiritual guide.
“ No; I do not know that I have com-
mitted any other.” “ There are,” said
the priest, “many robberies and mur-
ders from time to time committed on
your mountains, and I have reason to
believe that you are one of the persons
concerned in them.” “ Yes,” he replied,
“I am, but these are never accounted
as a crime; it is a thing practised by
us all, and there needs no confession
on that account.” Was not this straining
at a gnat and swallowing a camel with
a witness ?
(cl) REV. HENRY WARD BEE-
CHER’S TESTIMONY.-—“I remem-
ber the time when I swore the first oath
It seemed as though every leaf on the
trees and ‘every blade of grass were
vocal in their condemnation of my sin.
The very sky seemed to luvs er upon
712
TENDER CONSCIENCES VIOLATED.
357

me, and all Nature raised the note of re-
proof. But in after days, under the de-
moralizing influence of bad company, I
became able to use profane language
without a blush—without the least re-
morse of conscience ; and finally with-
out being conscious of the languagel
employed.”
357. Because Tender Consoienoes are most
Troublesome when Violatod.
(a) KILPIN’S THEFT OF A
PEN NY.—The Rev. Samuel Kilpin, a
minister of Exeter, (Eng.,) says, in his
life :—When seven years old,I was left
in charge of my father’s shop. A man
passed, crying, “Little lambs, all white
and clean, at one penny each.” In my
eagerness to get one, 1 lost all self-com-
mand, and taking a penny from the
drawer, I made the purchase. My
keen-eyed mother inquired how I came
by the money. I evaded the question
with something like a lie. In God’s
sight it was a lie, as I kept back the
truth.
The lamb was placed on the chimney
shelf, and was much admired. To me
it was a source of inexpressible an-
guish ; continually there sounded in my
ears and heart, “ Thou shalt not steal ;
thou shalt not lie.” Guilt and dark-
ness overcame my mind; and in sore
agony of soul I went to a hay-loft, the
place is now perfectly in my recollection,
and there prayed and pleaded, with
groanings that could not be uttered, for
mercy and pardon. I entreated for
Jesus’ sake. With joy and transport I
left the left from a believing application
of the text, “Thy sins, which are many,
are forgiven.” Iwent to my mother,
told her what I had done, and sought
her forgiveness, and burned the lamb,
while she wept over her young penitent.
If such was young Kilpin’s misery
and remorse in stealing a penny, then,
in justice, he who steals a pound should
suffer more, provided remorse of con-
science in this life gives every sinner
his due punishment. But thieves and
robbers who have for years pursued
their path of crime, can and do steal
hundreds of pounds, and have no such

'1
sense of guilt and sorrow for it as young
Kilpin had for his theft of a penny.
(Z2) STEALING A LAMB AND
ASKING A BLESSING OVER IT.
—Thomas D. had a large family, and
lived in the parish of M , Time was when he loved his Bible, at-
tended his church, and endeavored to
instruct his children in the fear of God.
In the year 1826 work was very
slack, and Thomas struggled hard
against poverty and sickness. His tri-
als were very great; and, instead of
taking these trials to the Lord in pray-
er, he sunk into a low state, little short
of desperation. This was Satan’s op-
portunity. \Vhen Thomas was reduced
to this strait, and feared that his wife
and little ones would be famished, he
meditated and planned a step, at which
he would formerly have shuddered: be
resolved on stealing a lamb from the
flock of a neighboring farmer. This,
after many inward struggles, was ac-
complished, and that too without detec-
tion. The lamb was killed, and brought
home. To the inquiries of his wife,
Thomas gave an evasive answer, and
part of the stolen provision was cooked
for supper. The poor woman called
her husband from the loom when it was
ready, and he was about to follow his
usual custom of asking a blessing ; his
tongue faltered, and he could not do
it; but snatching up the dish from his
astonished family, he went with it to
the farmer’s house, and confessed his
guilt. “ My life,” said he, “ is yours,
or if you spare it, I will try to pay you
for the lamb.” The farmer was touched
at his tale of misery, and the voluntary
confession of the theft. He told the
poor fellow to take the dish and its con-
tents back to his cottage, and freely for-
gave him what he had done.
I/Vhat made the thief ’s conscience so
sensitive and his compunctions so se-
vere’! Because he so seldom violated
it, while those accustomed to such vio-
lations would have felt little conruunc
tion, if at all.
(0) THE YOUNG CONVERT
AND HIS BROTHER’S SLED.-—
It is often the case that some compara.
tively slight deviation from duty on the
part of the Christian causes him more

713
eas,ase
PUNISHMENT OF THE WICKED, NOT IN THIS LIFE.
remorse of conscience than he outbreak-
ing sins of the impenitent. Rev. Mr.
D., of Michigan, states that soon after
his conversion, when a boy some four-
teen years of age, he was standing at
the door, and in a playful mood, pull-
mg back and forth a sled belonging to
his younger brother. The child saw
him, and cried aloud as if some great
outrage was being done to his property.
Upon this Mr. D. was so much exasper-
ated, that he hastily snatched up the
sled and threw it over the fence. To
most impenitent persons who should do
such a deed, it would cause little after-
thought or regret. But not so with the
young convert. His conscience severe-
ly accused him ; his convictions before
his conversion were scarce more ab-
sorbing and severe. He felt he had
treated his little brother unkindly and
maliciously-—aeted inconsistently with
his profession—-above all, he had sinned,
as he felt, against God. His agony of
mind was distressing and awful; and
it was not till he had wept and prayed,
confessed his sins to God, to his brother
whom he had injured, and his mother
who had witnessed his conduct, that he
felt forgiven or found relief to his con-
science. Did that young convert suf-
fer more than he deserved ? Then he
suffered unjustly, and the present retri-
bution of conscience is evidently imper-
fect. Did he suffer no more than he
deserved? Thousands of hardened sin-
ners commit offences a hundred-fold
more flagrant and feel little or no com-
punetion. Justice, therefore, is not
done in this life, and it must be done in
another.
358. Beeause they take Delight in their
Wiekedness.
(a) THE BLASPHEMOUS
TI-IANKSGIVING.——One of the most
horrid circumstances attending the
dreadful massacres of the Protestants
under Charles IX of France, was, that
wnen the news of this event reached
Irtome, Pope Gregory XIII instituted
the most solemn rejoicing, giving thanks
.0 Almighty God for this glorious vic-
tory over the heretics!

(b) BONAPARTE’S DELIGHT
IN MASSACRE.—“Bonaparte,” says
Sir Robert Wilson, “ having carried the
town of Jaffa by assault, many of the
garrison were put to the sword, but the
greater part flying into the Mosques,
and imploring mercy from their pursu-
ers, were granted their lives. Three
days afterwards, Bonaparte, who had
expressed much resentment at the com-
passion manifested by his troops, and
determined to relieve himself from the
maintenance and care of 3800 prison-
ers, ordered them to be marched to a
rising ground near J affa, where a divi-
sion of French infantry formed against
them. When the Turks had entered
into their fatal alignment, and the
mournful preparations were completed,
the signal gun fired. Volleys of mus-
quetry and grape instantly played
against them, and Bonaparte, who had
been regarding the scene through a tel-
escope, when he saw the smoke ascend-
ing, could not contain his joy.
869. Beeause they often Die in the very
act of Sin.
(a) DEA. EATON AND THE
INF lDEL.——-Dea. Eaton, a missionary
on the Erie canal, once came in con-
tact with an infidel on a canal boat,
who urged him into a dispute about the
divinity of Jesus Christ. At first he
proposed to argue the question on the
ground of the Scriptures, but being con-
founded by Dea. Eaton’s reading 1
John, chapter v., he declared that the
Bible was nothing but man’s invention.
“I saw,” says Dea. E., “that he ap-
peared to be very angry, and left him;
but during the whole afternoon, when-
ever he had an opportunity, he would
vent some of his spite upon me. When
we came to Syracuse, where we changed
packets, I thought I should stop, and
was bidding the passengers farewell.
Among the rest I shook hands with the
infldel’s wife, and said to her, ‘I hope
you will alter your belief before I see
you again.’ He saw me talking to her,
and coming along, struck off my hand
with which I held hers, and said, ‘Let
the woman alone. If you wish to a»
714
PUNISHMENT, FUTURE.
360
‘_|c~--~ _- __-_

tack any one, try me, but don’t abuse
the woman.”
I asked his pardon, and told him I
mtended no abuse to any one. I finally
concluded to go in the packet, and as the
boat started many of the passengers went
on deck, and among the rest the infidel
and his wife. I was in the cabin when
a man came down in great haste, and
inquired for a bottle of camphor ; he said
a man had fainted on deck. Without
knowing who it was, it struck me imme-
diately that it was the infidel, and that
God had destroyed him. l went on deck,
and sure enough the infidel was dead.
A gentleman with whom he was con-
versing, said he was railing against me,
and saying 1 was spunging my living,
when he fell in a moment with a half-
uttered curse on his lips. They were
trying to bring him back to life, butl
saw that there were no hopes that he
would ever breathe again. He was
dead the moment he reached the deck,
and then presented the most awful ob-
'ect I had ever looked upon. His eyes
were open, and his countenance indi-
cated woful despair. It was a solemn
moment, as still as the house of death.
Dne of the boatmen said to me, “ It will
not do to fight against God.”
(6) DYING WHILE BLASPHE-
MIN G.—A minister in a small seaport
town in Scotland, once furnished an ac-
count of a man, who for many years
was masterof a coasting vessel, and an
inhabitant of that place. In his younger
days he made a profession of religion ;
and, among the small but respectable
body to which he belonged, he was
:leemed an eminent Christian. He af-
-erwards became a deist !—nay, a pro-
"essed atheist, and made the existence
of the Deity and a future state the sub-
ects of his ridicule and profane mock-
ery. For horrid swearing and lewd-
ness he had perhaps few equals in Scot-
land. One night, in a public house,
when swearing awfully, in a rage, he
was summoned into eternity in a mo-
ment, by the rupture of a blood-vessel.
Was he punished for his blasphemy
Sefore his death ? If not, then he was
unished afterwards.
(0) DYING DEAD DRUNK.-
George Davidson, aged about 36 years,


of Fryeburg village, Maine, had been
in the habit, ibr a long time, of drink-
ing to excess occasionally 5 and, though
he was provident when free from this
bane of society, he had, with his wife
and children, lived a wretched life. For
a week prior to his death, he was intoxi-
cated every day, and abused his family
unmercifully. That morning he said
to his wife, with a horrible oath, “ When
Idrink another glass of rum, 1 hope
God Almighty will strike me dead!”
He immediately visited the public house;
drank rum while there; filled his jug;
and, returning, beat his wife, and threw
her on the floor, though her peculiar
situation demanded the most kind and
affectionate treatment from her hus-
band. About two o’clock in the after-
noon, he took his “ jug,” and going to
another room, said, “I swear I will
drink till I die, let it be longer or short-
er.” His wife expostulated, when he
replied with a most awful oath that he
would do it. Before three o’clock his
spirit had fled, and where, ye drunk-
ards, do ye think it went '2 The Bible
says, that no drunkard shall enter the
kingdom of God, 1 Cor. vi. 10. Gal. v.
21. What will be the reward of those
who are summoned to the bar of eternal
justice with an oath on the tongue?
Will such a man at once be happy in
the presence of God’.Z \Vi1l he say to
such, “ Come, ye blessed ?”
860. Punishlnent, Future.
(a) FUTURE FEELINGS OF
THE RIGHTEOUS. ——The pious
mother of an unworthy son, whose
misconduct had brought upon her that
species of decline familiarly termed
a broken heart, sent for him before
her death, and addressed him in this
remarkable language: “ My dear
Charles, how tenderlyl have loved you,
is but too evident from the state to which
you now see me reduced; and so long
asI remain in this body, I shall not
cease to love you, and to pray for you,
with all a mother’s anxiety; but the
period is approaching when I shall hear
the sentence of even your eternal de-
struction with a majestic composure
715
360,361
QUARRELS.
_
and an entire complacency, arising
from a feeling identified only with per-
fect purity and infinite rectitude.” The
impression this appeal made, was never
effaced; it was the means of effecting
a permanent change of character.
(Z2) PRESIDENT N— AND THE
R ESTORATIONIST.-President
N— once preached a discourse near
Schenectady, in which he set forth the
intense and eternal torment of the finally
impenitent. One of our modern restora-
tionists heard the discourse, and having
“ an itching palm” to show his know-
ledge of futurity and divine disposi-
tions, he followed the President to the
house, Where he took tea after the exer-
cises of the day were closed, and intro-
duced himself by saying to Mr. N ,
“ Well, sir, have been to hear you
preach, and have come here to request
you to prove your doctrine.” “ I thought
I had proved it, for I took the Bible for
testimony,” was the reply. “Well, I
do not find any thing in my Bible to
prove that the sinner is eternally damn-
ed, and I do not believe any such
thing '2” “ What do you believe.”
“ Why I believe that mankind will be
iudged according to the deeds done in
the body, and Those that deserve punish
ment will be sent to hell, and remain
there until the debt is paid,” &c. Says
Mr. N-—, “I have but a word to say to
you ; and first—-For what~did Christ
die'2 And lastly—there is a straight
road to heaven; but if you are deter-
mined to go round through hell to get
there, I cannot help it.” The man took
his leave, but his mind was “ill at
ease.” There is a straight road to
heaven, still rang in his ears ; he went


home, read his Bible attentively, and
was soon convinced of and acknowledged
his error; and after a suitable time,
united with the followers of the Lamb.
(0) A CLOSE QUESTION.——A
pious minister of respectable talents,
now in the Methodist connexion, was
previously a preacher among the Univer-
salists. The incident which led him
seriously to examine the grounds of that
doctrine is striking and singular. He
was amusing his little son by telling
him the story of the “ Children in the
Wood.” The boy asked, “What be-
came of the little innocent children '2”
“They went to heaven,” replied the
father. “ VVhat became of the wicked
old uncle 2” “ He went to heaven
too.” “Won’t he kill them again,
father '2” said the boy.
(d) MR. HALLOCK’S REPLY TO
A FRIEND.-—A clerical brother of
like sentiments with Mr. Hallock, who
had just lost a dear son without the con-
solation of strong hope in his case, once
put this question, with rather peculiar
emphasis : “ Do you not sometimes
doubt, Mr. Hallock, whether a holy and
benevolent God will inflict eternal pun-
ishment upon a part of mankind '2” He
promptly replied, “ No, sir; if a man
should tell me that he had just seen
Canton meeting-house in flames, and I
should hasten to the spot and find it not
so, would he be able afterwards to look
me in the face’! So, if there is to be no
everlasting punishment for any of our
race, how could Christ, after his many
positive declarations to the contrary,
hold up his head before his people in the
future world '2”
361. QUARRELS.
(a) ARISTIPPUS AND i/ESCHL
N ES.--Aristippus and Eschines having
quarreled, Aristippus came to his op-
ponent and said :—“ fEschines, shall we
oe friends '2” “ Yes,” he replied, “ with
all my heart.” “ But remember,” said
Aristippus, “that I being older than
you, do make the first motion.”
“ Yes,” replied ZEschines, “ and there-
fore I conclude that you are the worth-

iest man ; for I began the strife, and
you began the peace.”
(72) THE WORTHIEST MAN.-
Rev. John Clark, of Frome (Eng.), was
a man of peace. He was asked one day,
by a friend, how he kept himself from
being involved in quarrels. He answered,
“ By letting the angry person always
have the quarrel to himself.” This
saying seems to have had some influence
716
QUARRELS.
361
on some of the inhabitants of that town ;
for, when a quarrel has been likely to
ensue, they have said, “Come, let us
remember old Mr. Clark, and leave the
angry man to quarrel by himself.” If
this maxim were followed, it would be
a vast saving of expense, of comfort,
and of honor to thousands of the human
race.
(0) PEACE PRESERVED BY
PRAYER.—-Mr. Johnston of West
Africa, in one of his journals, relates
the following very pleasing and instruc-
tive incident: “ In visiting a sick com-
municant, his wife, who was formerly
in our school, was present. I asked
se eral questions, viz. if they prayed
together, read a part of the Scriptures
(the woman can read), constantly at-
tended public worship, and lived in
peace with their neighbors. All these
questions were answered in the affirm-
ative. I then asked if they lived in
peace together. The man answered,
‘sometimes Isay a word my wife no
like or my wife talk or do what I no
].Ik\ but when we want to quarrel we
shake hands together, shut the door,
and go to prayer, and so we get peace
again.’ This method of keeping
eace quite delighted me.”
(cl) THOMAS, GERALD, AND
THE CANDY.—-These boys lived in
Rhode Island, and were brothers. One
cold day, when the ground was frozen,
they were out driving a hoop. Both
boys were following and driving the
same hoop. This is rather dangerous,
as the boys, running one behind the
other, and both driving the same hoop,
are liable to run on to each other, and
fall. As they were driving their hoop
down the street, running as fast as they
could, (1; rald, the younger, being he-
hind, Thomas hit his foot against a
stone, and fell headlong upon the frozen
ground—-coming down with violence
upon his bare hands and face. Gerald,
being close behind, and running fast,
could not stop, but came down with his
whole weight on Thomas.
Thomas still worse. He was angry at
Gerald for falling on him. They both
rose. Thomas, in his wrath, began to
scold and storm at his brother, and beat
him What did Gerald do’2 Did he
This hurt‘

cry out, and strike back’.2 He did no
such thing. He put his hand into his
pocket hurriedly, fumbled about, and
soon drew out a stick of candy, and
thrust it into his brother’s mouth, as he
was scolding and beating him. Thomas
instantly stopped, and looked confused
and ashamed. His brother urged him
to take the candy. He took it and be-
gan to eat—sorry enough that he had
struck his affectionate and generous
brother.
Thus his wrath was disarmed, and
his blows stayed, by the love and kind
ness of his gentle-hearted brother.
A stick of candy is a better weapon
to fight with, and more sure to gain a
victory, than a stick of wood, or a fist.
(e) THE YOUNG LAD AND HIS
BOAT. --A young, lad says Mr.
I/Vright, was once rowing me across the
Merrimack river in a boat. Some
boatmen, going down the river with
lumber, had drawn up their boat and
anchored it on the spot where the boy
wished to land me.
“There!” he exclaimed, “those
boatmen have left their boat right in my
way.”
“ Vl'hat did they do that for '2” I asked
“ On purpose to plague me,” said he ,
“ butI will cut it loose, and let it gc
down the river. I would have them
know I can be as ugly as they can.”
“ But, my lad,” said I, “ you should
not plague them because they plague
you. Because they are ugly to you, it
is no reason why -'ou should be to
them. Besides, how do you know they
did it to vex and trouble you '2”
“But they had no business to leave it
there——it is against the rules,” said he.
“True,” I replied, “and you have
no business to send their boat down the
river. Would it not be better to ask
them to remove it out of the way '2”
“ They will not comply, ifI do,”
said the angry boy, “ and thc y will do so
again.” ‘
“ Well, try it for once,” said I.
“Just run your boat alittle above, or a
little below theirs, and see if they will
not favor you, when they see you_dispos-
ed to give way to accommodate them.”
The boy complied; and when the
men in the boat saw the little fellow
717
‘see
REASON, INSUFFICIENCY OF.
quietly and pleasantly pulling at his
ears, to run his boat ashore above them,
they took hold and helped him, and
wheeled their boat around, and gave
him all the chance he wished.
Thus, by submitting pleasantly to
what he believed was done to vex him,
the boy prevented a quarrel. Had he

—~
cut the rope, at that time and place,
and let their boat loose, it would have
done the boatmen much damage.
There would have been a fight, and
many would have been drawn into it.
But the boy, who considered himself the“
injured party, prevented it all by a kind
and pleasant submission to the injury.
362. REASON, INSUFFICIENCY OF.
(a) “ I/VHAT IS GOD ’!”——Simo-
nides, a heathen poet, being asked by
Hiero, king of Syracuse, W hat is God?
desired a day to think upon it; and
when that was ended, he desired two;
and when these were past, he desired
four days; thus he continued to double
the number of days in which he de-
sired to think of God, before he would
give an answer. Upon which the king
expressed his surprise at his behavior,
and asked him, What he meant by this’.2
To which the poet answered, “ The
more I think of God, he is still the more
dark and unknown to me.”
(5) THE DEIST CONFOUNDED.
-——A deist, on a visit to his friends,
among other topics of conversation, en-
larged considerably on the sufficiency
of reason, separate from Divine assist-
ance, to guide us to happiness. To
whom the relative present, who was a
farmer, made the following reply :—
“Cousin, when you were about four-
teen years of age, you were bound ap-
prentice to your trade, and having
served the appointed time, you soon be-
came a master, and have now continued
in business about twelve years. I wish
to know whether you could not prose-
cute your trade at this time to greater
advantage than when you first embark-
ed in it as a master?” The tradesman
admitted that his experience in business
was of considerable value to him; but
asked, what relation that had to the pre-
sent topie of discourse. The farmer
answered, “You were come to the per-
fect use of your reason, and had been
for a long time taught how to manage
your trade ; and if, therefore, your rea-
son without experience was insufficient
to preserve you from many errors, in so

plain and easy a business as yours, how
can you imagine that it should be suf-
ficient, without Divine assistance, to
guide you to lieaven ?” The deist was
confounded.
(e) PAlNE’S REGRET.--When
Thomas Paine resided in Bordentown,
in the state of New Jersey, he was
one day passing the residence of Dr.
Staughton, when the latter was sitting
at the door. Paine stopped, and after
some remarks of a general character,
observed, “ Mr. Staughton, what a pity
it is that a man has not some compre-
hensive and perfect rule for the govern-
ment of his life.” The doctor replied,
“Mr. Paine, there is such a rule.”
“ What is that ?” Paine inquired. Dr.
S. repeated the passage, “ Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and thy neighbor as thyself.”
Abashed and confounded, Paine replied,
“Oh, that’s in your Bible,” and imme-
diately walked away.
(cl) ETHICS ASIDE FROM THE
BIBLE.--De Luc, speaking of the su-
perior efficacy of positive laws, com-
pared with the mere precepts of any
system of moral philosophy, gives us
the following narrative.—“ Some time
ago I was conversing upon this subject
with a very celebrated man, (the late
Sir Jolm Pringle,) who uad been pro-
fessor of moral philosophy in the uni-
versity of Edinburgh; he was advanced
in years, and had lived much in the
world. At that time I was still rather
a friend to teaching rational morality,
thinking it was useful to bring men ac-
quainted with their duty in every possi-
ble way. I had just read a work of
this nature, entitled ‘ Of an Universal
Lllloral, or Man’s Duties founded upon
718
RECONCILIATION TO GOD-—RELIGIO1\'.
!
see, 1264

Nature;’ and as he had not read it,I
offered to lend it to him. I cannot ex-
press the tone in which he refused this
offer, but you will have some idea of it
when you come to know the motives
upon which he did it. ‘I have been,’
said he, ‘for many years professor of
this pretended science; I have ransack-
ed the libraries and my own brain to
discover the foundation of it; but the
more I sought to persuade and convince
my pupils, the less confidence I began
to have myself in what I was teaching
them; so that at length I gave up my
profession and turned to medicine, which
had been the first object of my studies.
I have nevertheless continued from that

time to examine every thing that ap-
peared upon the subject, which, as I
have told you, I could never explain or
teach so as to produce conviction ; but
at length I have given up the point,
most thoroughly assured, that without
an express divine sanction attached to
the laws of morality, and without posi-
tive laws, accompanied with determi-
nate and urgent motives; men will ne-
ver be convinced that they ought to sub-
mit to any such code, nor agree among
themselves concerning it. From that
time I have never read any book upon
morality but the Bible, and I return to
that always with fresh delight.‘ ”
363. RECONCILIATION TO GOD.
(a) PROOF OF BEING A CHRIS-
TIAN. -—The simplicity of youthful
conversion was illustrated in the case
of a child thirteen years old, some time
ago, in New-York. “Mother,” said
this girl, “can you know whether or
not I am a Christian by my feelings?”
“ My dear,” replied her mother, “I
must first know what your feelings
are.” The daughter smiled, and said,
“ Well, then, you know, when you have
been angry with a person, and it is all
made up, how happy you feel. Now I
have been a long time angry with God,
and it is all made up, and I feel so hap-
py.” Thus she expressed a sense of
reconciliation to God through Christ
Jesus.
(Z2) PEACE VVITH GOD AND
CONSCIENCE.——“ When I used to
go,” said a man who formerly lived in
sin, “to all kinds of fairs, and revels, j
and horse-races. I was never happy.
As I was coming home through the.
woods at night, the rustling of a leaf
would frighten me ; terrified by I knew
not what, fleeing when no man pursued,
I galloped home as fast as my horse
could carry me. Now, if I go to visi
a poor dying man, or if I have been en-
joying the word of life, I come home in
a calm and peaceful frame of mind. I
find that the Lord is present with me ;
‘and as I walk my horse gently along, I
look up and see the bright stars above
my head, and am happy in the assur-
ance that the God who made them
all is mine in Christ. O, what a mer-
lcyl——the loneliness of the wood, the
rustling of the leaves, the stillness of
night, no longer alarm me. I am, I
trust, reconciled to my God, and at
peace with him and my own conscience,
through the death of his Son. He that
fills the heavens with his glory, and the
earth with his mercies, condescends to
dwell in, and to comfort my poor sinful
heart.”
364. RELIGION. REFORMING POWER OF.
(a) THE DISCHARGED SOL-
DIER.——Wherever religion has spread
its banners and enrolled its armies, or-
der, discipline, and efliciency have
characterized its followers. A dis-
charged soldier had been a notorious
Sabbath-breaker. He was often met on
that day, ragged and barefoot, accom-
panied with one or two of his children.
in a similar condition, strolling with a
719
'1
364
' RELIGION, REFORMING POWER OF.

gun or a fishing pole to his accustomed
employment of the day. His house was
the picture of wretchedness. After the
lapse of a few years, a gentleman in the
town where he lived, noticed, one Sab-
bath morning, a decent wagon proceed-
ing to church with a well-dressed fami-
ly. He thought he knew the driver,
who appeared to be the head of the
family, and accosted him. He was not
mistaken. It was the identical Sabbath-
breaker and idler. He had become a
religious man, which his appearance
evinced, while his tongue confessed it.
His house was found to exhibit econo-
my and industry. Its windows, which
were once stuffed with rags, were now
glazed. His children attended the Sun-
day school. He was himself respecta-
ble, clean, and thriving; at peace with
his own mind, and living peacably with
his neighbors. Such are some of the
trophies of religion, showing itself, as
indeed it is, profitable unto all things,
having promise of the life that now is,
and of that which is to come.
(Z2) METHODISTS ACCUSED
AND ACQUITTED.-—In an early
period of the ministry of the Rev. John
Wesley, he visited Epworth, in Lincoln-
shire, where his father had formerly
been minister, but found the people
greatly opposed to what they consider-
ed his new notions. He tells us, in his
journal, that many persons were con-
vinced of the importance of the truths
he delivered from the tombstone of his
father, some of whom were conveyed in
a wagon to a neighboring justice of the
peace, to answer for the heresy with
which they were charged. Mr. Wes-
ley rode over also: when the magis-
trate asked what these persons had
done, there was a deep silence ; for that
was a point their conductors had forgot-
ten. At length, one of them said,
“ I/Vhy, they pretend to be better than
other people ; and, besides, they pray
from morning to night.” He asked,
“But have they done any thing be-
sides?” “ Yes, sir,” said an old man,
“ An’ t please your worship, they have
cc/nvariccl my wife. Till she went
among them, she had such a tongue:
and now she is as quiet as a lamb.”
“ Carry them back, carry them back,”

-¢- -
replied the justice, “ and let them con
vert all the scolds in the town.”
(0) SAVAGE WARRIOR CON-
VERTED.—It is related, in Abbott’s
American Religious Magazine, that as
Dr. Cornelius was riding through the
wilderness of the west, he met a party
of Indian warriors, just returning from
one of their excursions of fire and blood.
One of these warriors, of fierce and
fiend-like aspect, led a child of five years
of age, whom they had taken captive.
“ Where are the parents of this
child?” said Dr. Cornelius.
“ Here they are,” replied the savage
warrior, as with one hand he exhibited
the bloody scalps of a man and a we-
man, and with the other brandished his
tomahawk in all the exultation of grati-
fied revenge.
That same warrior became a disciple
of Jesus Christ, a humble man of piety
and of prayer. His tomahawk was
laid aside, and was never again crim-
soned with the blood of his fellow men.
His wife became a member of the same
church with himself, and their united
prayers ascended, morning and evening,
from the family altar. Their daughters
were amiable and humble, and devoted
followers of the blessed Redeemer,
trained up under the influence of a
father’s and a mother’s prayers, for the
society of angels and saints.
(d) LION CHANGED TO A
LAMB.—-—“ Do you remember,” said
an Indian convert to a Missionary,
“that a few years ago, a party of war-
riors came to the vicinity of the tribe to
whom you preach, and pretending
friendship, invited the chief of the tribe
to hold a talk with them T’
“Yes,” replied the Missionary, “ I
remember it very well.”
“ Do you remember,” continued the
Indian, “that the chief, fearing treach-
ery, instead of going himself, sent one
of his warriors to hold the talk '2”
“ Yes,” was the reply.
“ And do you remember,” proceeded
the Indian, “ that warrior never return-
ed, but that he was murdered by those
who, with promises of friendship, had
led him into their snare '2”
“I remember it all very well,” re-
plied the Missionary.
720
RELIGION, REFORMING POWER OF.
364
“ Well,” the Indian continued, weep- ' a gift in prayer, as to be engaged, on
ing with emotion, “I was one of that
band of warriors. As soon as our vic-
tim was in the midst of us, we fell upon
him with our tomahawks, and cut him
to pieces.”
This man became one of the most in-
fluential members of the Christian
church, and reflected with horror upon
those scenes in which he formerly ex-
ulted. He gave his influence and his
prayers, that there might be glory to
God in the highest, peace on earth, and
good will among men.
(e) “ IS JACK BETTER FOR
THE PREACHING ?”—--A person who
had expressed doubts, whether the ne-
groes received any real advantage by
hearing the gospel, was asked, whether
he did not think one named Jack was
better for the preaching’.2 He replied,
“ Why,I must confess that he was a
drunkard, a liar, and a thief, but, cer-
tainly, he is now a sober boy, andl can
trust him with any thing 5 and since he
has talked about religion, I have tried
to make him drunk, but failed in the
attempt.”
DISPLAY OF DIVINE
GRACE.—-“ It is now fifteen years,”
says the Rev. Risdon Darracott, in a
letter, “ since I was settled in this place,
(Wellington,) and though I found reli-
gion at a very low ebb, it pleased God,
by my poor ministration, to revive it
soon on my first coming, and to con-
tinue it, more or less, in a flourishing
state to this day. Every year there
have been additions, and, in some years,
very large, to the Church, of such as I
hope will be saved. Upwards of two
hundred have been taken into commun-
ion, upon a credible profession, since
my settlement 5 many of them the most
profligate in the places round us, whose
change has been so remarkable, that the
world at once bears their testimony to,
and expresses their astonishment of it.
Many of them so very ignorant, as not
to know the plainest and most common
principles of religion; yea, were not
able to read a letter, who are now mak-
ing the word of God their daily study
and delight; many who never prayed
in all their lives, and lived without God
in the world, who have attained to such

particular occasions, in public, to the
pleasure and edification of all present,
and whose houses, which were once
dens of thieves, are now become Beth-
els, in which family worship is constant-
iy and seriously performed. O, my
dear sir, rejoice with me, and let us ex-
alt his name together 1”
(g) RELIGION ON SHIP-BOARD.
——-“I have lately had the honor,” said
Captain Parry, at a public meeting in
1826, “ and I may truly say the happi-
ness, of commanding British seamen
under circumstances requiring the ut-
most activity, implicit and immediate
obedience, and the most rigid attention
to discipline and good order 5 and I am
sure, that the maintenance of all these
was, in a great measure, owing to the
blessing of God upon our humble en-
deavors to improve the religious and
moral character of our men. In the
schools established on board our ships
in the winter, religion was made the
primary object, and the result was every
way gratifying and satisfactory. It
has convinced me, that true religion is
so far from being a hinderanee to the ar-
duous duties of that station in which it
has pleased Providence to cast the sea-
man’s lot, that, on the contrary, it will
always inqite him to their performance,
from the highest and most powerful of
motives 5 and I will venture to predict,
that in proportion as this spring of ac-
tion is more and more introduced among
our seamen, they would become such as
every Englishman would wish to see
them. To this fact at least, I can, on a
small scale, bear the most decided testi-
mony 5 and the friends of religion will
feel a pleasure in having the fact an-
nounced, that the very best seamen on
board the Hecla-—such, I mean, as were
always called upon in any case of ex-
traordinary emergency——were, without
exception, those who had thought the
most seriously on religious subjects;
and if a still more scrupulous selection
were to be made out of that number,
the choice would fall, without hesifazfion,
on two or three individuals possessing
dispositions and sentiments eminentlgt
Chrz'stzIan. ”
46
721
$65
REIVIORSE.
365. REMORSE.
(a) JUDGED AND CONDEMN-
ED.--The venerable Bede tells us of a
certain great man, who was exhorted to
repent of his sins, during a season of
illness: he answered that he would not
repent yet ; for, should he recover, his
companions would laugh at him on ac-
count of his religion. Getting worse,
the subject was again pressed on his at-
tention, when he replied, “ It is too late
now, for I am judged and condemned.”
(b) A PRESENT HELL.—-An
avowed infidel, who had been accus-
tomed to scoff at the Holy Scriptures, to
exercise his profane wit in ridiculing
the justice of God, and the future pun-
ishment of the wicked, and had strenu-
ously denied that there was a hell, with
his last quivering breath exclaimed,
“ Now I know that there is a hell, for I
feel it.”
(0) SABAT’S VVRETCHEDNESS.
—-After poor Sabat, an Arabian, who
had professed faith in Christ by means
of the labors of the Rev. Henry Mar-
tyn, had apostatized from Christianity,
and written a book in favor of Moham-
medanism, he was met at Malacca, by
the Rev. Dr. Milne, who proposed
to him some very pointed questions 5 in
reply to which he said, “I am unhap-
py ! I have a mountain of burning
sand on my head ! When Igo about,
I know not what I am doing.” It is
indeed “ an evil thing and bitter to for-
sake the Lord our God.”
((1) A MODERN JUDAS.—.Iohn
Diazius, a native of Spain, having em-
braced the Protestant faith, came after-
wards to Germany, where he visited
Malvinda, the Pope’s agent there. Hav-
ing attempted in vain to bring him back
to the church of Rome, Malvinda sent
to Rome for his brother Alphonsus Di-
azius, who, hearing that his brother was
become a Protestant, came into Germa-
ny with an assassin, resolving either to
draw him back to Popery, or to destroy
him. Alphonsus finding his brother so
steadfast in his belief of the truths of
the gospel, that neither the promises nor
threats of the Pope’s agent, nor his own

pretensions of brotherly love, could pre-
vail on him to return to Popery, feigned
to take a most friendly and affection
farewell, and then departed. Having
soon returned, he sent in the ruflians
who accompanied him, with letters to
his brother, himself following behind,
and while his brother was reading them,
the assassin cleft his head with a hatch-
et which they purchased on the way
from a carpenter; and, taking horse,
they both rode off. Alphonsus, though
highly applauded by the Papists, be-
came the prey of a guilty conscience.
His horror and dread of mind were so
insupportable, that, being at Trent dur-
ing the general council, like another
Judas, he put an end to his life by hang-
ing himself.
(e) A MARTYR’S CROWN
LOST.——.Iames Le F evre, of Etables,
did not outwardly depart from the
church of Rome, yet at the bottom of
his heart he was a Protestant. He was
protected by the Queen of Navarre, sis-
ter to Francis I; and, dining with her
in company with some other learned
men, whose conversation pleased the
queen, he began to weep: and when
the queen asked him the reason of it, he
answered, “the enormity of his sins
threw him into that grief ! It was not
the remembrance of any lewdness he
had been guilty of, and with regard to
other vices, he felt his conscience easy
enough ; but he was pricked in his eon-
science, that having known the truth
and taught it to several persons who
had sealed it with their blood, he had
the weakness to keep himself in an asy-
lum far from the places where crowns
of martyrdom were distributed.” He
went to bed, where he was found dead
a few hours after.
DEATH OF JOHN RAN-
DOLPH.—.Iohn Randolph of Roanoke,
was near his end. Dr. was sitting
by the table, and his man John sitting
by the bed, in perfect silence, when he
closed his eyes, and for a few moments
seemed, by his hard breathing, to be
asleep. But as the sequel proved, it

722
REPENTANCE.
366
-- ~ _ -—-
was the intense working of his mind.
Opening his keen eyes upon the doctor,
he said, sharply, “remorse”——-soon af-
terward more emphatically, “ REMORSE”
-—presently at the top of his strength,
he cried out, “ REMORSE.” He then
added, “Let me see the word.” The
doctor not cornprehending his desire,
made no reply. Randolph then said to
him with great energy, “ Let me see
the word. Show me it in a Diction-
cry.” The Dr. looked round and told
him he believed there was none in the
room. “ Write it then,” said Randolph.
The Dr. perceiving one of Randolph’s
engraved cards lying on the table, wrote
the word in pencil under the printed
name, and handed it to Randolph. He

-—-
seized it, and holding it up to his eyes
with great earnestness, seemed much
agitated. After a few seconds, he
handed back the card, saying, “ Write
it on the other side.” The Dr. did so,
in larger letters. He took it again,
and after gazing earnestly upon it a
few seconds, returned it, and said,
“ Lend John your pencil, and let him
put a stroke under it.” The black
man took the pencil and did so, leav-
ing it on the table. “ Ah!” said the
dying man, “ Remorse, you don’t know
what it means! you don’t know what
it means.” But added presently, “I
cast myself on the Lord Jesus Christ
for mercy.”
366. REPENTANCE.
(a) LITTLE BOY’S FALSE.
HOOD.—-“ A man,” says the Rev. J.
Todd, “ who is now a minister of the
Gospel, gave me the following account.
I tell it to you in order to show you
what repentance is. ‘I had one of the
kindest and best of fathers; and when
I was a little white-headed boy about
six years old, he used to carry me to
school before him on his horse, to help
me in my little plans, and always
seemed trying to make me happy ; and
he never seemed so happy himself, as
when making me happy. When I
was six years old, he came home one
day, very sick. My mother, too, was
sick, and thus nobody but my two sis-
ters could take care of my father. In
a few days he was worse, very sick,
and all the physicians in the region
were called in to see him. The next
Sabbath morning early, he was evident-
ly much worse. As I went into his
room he stretched out his hand to me
and said, “My little boy,I am very
sick. I wish you to take that paper on
the stand, and rumto Mr. C.’s, and get
me the medicine written on that paper.”
I took the paper and went to the apoth-
ecary’s shop, as Ihad often done be-
fore. It was about half a mile off ;
but When I got there, I found it shut,
and as Mr. C. lived a quarter of a mile

further off, I concluded not to go to
find him. I then set out for home.
On my way back I contrived what to
say. I knew how wicked it was to tell
a lie, but one sin always leads to anoth-
er. On going in to my father, I saw
that he was in great pain ; and though
pale and weak, I could see great drops
of sweat standing on his forehead, forced
out by the pain. O then I was sor-
ry I had not gone and found the apoth-
ecary. At length he said to me, “My
son has got the medicine, I hope, for I
am in great pain.” I hung my head
and muttered, for my conscience smote
me, “ No, sir, Mr. Carter says he has
got none!” “Has got none! Is this
possible '2” He then cast a keen eye
upon me, and seeing my head hang,
and probably suspecting my falsehood,
said, in the mildest, kindest tone, “ My
little boy will see his father safer great
pain for the wan of that medicine I”
I went out of the room. and alone, and
cried. I was soon called back. My
brothers had come, and were standing
-—-all the children were standing round
his bed. and he was committing my
poor mother to their care, and giving
them his last advice. I was the young-
est, and when he laid his hand on my
head and told me “that in a few hours
I should have no father ; that he would
723
366
REPENTANCE.

‘--|-_-_‘.__
m a day or two be buried up ;——that I
must now make God my father, love
him, obey him, and always do right and
speak the truth, because the eye of God
is always upon me”—-it seemed as if I
should sink; and when he laid his hand
upon my head again and prayed for the
blessing of God the Redeemer to rest
upon me, “ soon to be a fatherless
orphan,” I dared not look at him I felt
so guilty. Sobbing,I rushed from his
bed-side, and thought I wished I could
die. They soon told me he could not
speak. 0 how much would I have
given to go in and tell him that I had
told a lie, and ask him once more to lay
his hand on my head and forgive me!
Icrept in once more and heard the
minister pray for “ the dying man.”
O how my heart ached. I snatched
my hat and ran to the apothecary’s
house and got the medicine. I ran
home with all my might, and ran in,
and ran up to my father’s bed-side to
confess my sin, crying out, “ O here
father,’ ’--but I was hushed: andl then
saw that he was pale, and that all in the
room were weeping. M y dear father was
dead ! And the last thing I ever spake
to him was to tell a Zie .' I sobbed as if
my heart would break; for his kind-
nesses, his tender looks, and my own
sin, all rushed upon my own mind. And
as I gazed upon his cold, pale face, and
saw his eyes shut, and his lips closed,
could I help thinking of his last words ;
“ My little boy will see his father suffer
great pain for the want of that medicine ;”
I could not know but he died for the
want of it.
“ ‘ In a day or two he was put into
the ground and buried up. There
were several ministers at the funeral,
and each spoke kindly to me, but could
not comfort me. Alas! they knew not
what a load of sorrow lay on my
heart. They could not comfort me. M
father was buried, and the children
all scattered abroad, for my mother was
too feeble to take care of them.
“‘It was twelve years after this,
while in college, that I went alone to
the grave of my fatner. It took me a
good while to find it ; but there it was,
with its humble tomb-stone, and as I
itood over it, I seemed to be back at his

-.-a-_o
bed-side, to see his pale face, and heat
his voice. Oh ! the thought of that sin
and wickedness cut me to the heart.
It seemed as if worlds would not be
too much to give, could I then only
have called loud enough to have him
hear me ask his forgiveness. But it
was too late. He had been in the grave
twelve years, and I must live and die,
weeping over the ungrateful falsehood.
May God forgive me.’”
(1)) KILPIN’S PENITEN1 SON.
-—-Rev. Samuel Kilpin gives the
following account of his son :——On
one occasion, when he ‘had offended
me, I deemed it right to manifest
displeasure, and when he asked a ques-
tion about the business of the day, I
was short and reserved in my answers
to him. An hour or more elapsed.
The time was nearly arrived when he
was to repeat his lessons. He came
into my study, and said, “ Papa, I can-
not learn my lessons except you are re-
conciled. Iam very sorry I have of-
fended you, I hope you will forgive me:
I think I shall never offend again.”
Ireplied, “All I want is to make
you sensible of your fault; when you
acknowledge it, you know all is easily
reconciled with me.”
“ Then, papa,” said he “ give me the
token of reconciliation, and seal it with
a kiss.” The hand was given, and the
seal most heartily exchanged on each
side.
“Now,” exclaimed the dear boy, “ I
will learn Greek and Latin with any
body ;” and was hastening to his study.
“Stop, stop,” I called after him,
“ have you not a heavenly Father ? If
what you have done has been evil, he
is displeased, and you must apply to
him for forgiveness.”
With tears starting in his eyes, he
said, “Papa, I went to him first: I
knew that except he was reconciled, I
could do nothing ;” and with tears fast
rolling down his cheeks, he added, “I
hope, I hope he hasy2 forgiven me, ano
now I am happy!” I never had again
occasion to look at him with a shade of
disapprobation.
(0) MOST DELIGHTFUL EMO.
TION.-—“ Which is the most delight-
ful emotion ?” said an instructor of the
724
REPENT AN CE ON DEATH-BEDS.

366, 367

_
deaf and dumb to his pupils, after teach-
ing them the names of our various feel-
ings. The pupils turned instinctively
to their slates, to write an answer ; and
one with a smiling countenance wrote
Joy. It would seem as if none could
write any thing else ; but another with a
look of more thoughtfulness, put down
Hope. A third with beaming counten-
ance wrote Gratitude. A fourth wrote
Love, and other feelings still, claimed the
superiority on other minds. One turn-
ed back with a countenance full of
peace, and yet a tearful eye, and the
teacher was surprised to find on her
slate, “ Repentance is the most delight-
ful emotion.” He returned to her with
marks of wonder, inwhich her compan-
ions doubtless participated, and asked,
“ Why ?” “ Oh,” said she, in the ex-
pressive language of looks and gestures,
which marks these mutes—“ It is so
delightful to be humbled before God I”
(cl) A GREAT SINNER AND NO
SINNER.—-A woman professing to be
under deep conviction, went to a minis-
ter, crying aloud that she was a sinner;
but when he came to examine her in
what point, though he went over and ex-
plained all the ten commandments, she
would not own that she had broken one
of them.
367. Repentance en Death-beds.
(a) DEATH WILL NOT WAIT
FOR EXPLANATION.-—Mr. Wilcox
in his sermon mentions the following in-
cident. A young man in the vigor of
health, with the fairest prospect of a
long and prosperous life, was thrown
from a vehicle, and conveyed to the
nearest house, in a state that excited in-
stant and universal alarm for his safety.
A physician was called. The first
question of the wounded youth was,
“ S11, must I die ? must I die ? deceive
me not in this thing.” His firm tone
and penetrating look demanded an hon-
est reply. He was told he could not
live more than an hour. He waked
1p, as it were, at once, to a full sense
)f thedreadful reality. “ Must I then go
into Eternity in an hour’.2 Must lap-
pear before my God and Judge in an
nour? God knows that I have made no
preparations for this event. I knew

T
that impenitent youth were sometimes
cut off thus suddenly, but it never €11T.61-
ed my mind that I was to be one of the
number. And now what shall I do to
be saved '2” He was told that he must
repent and believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ. “ But how shall I repent and
believe’.Z There is no time to explain
the manner Death will not wait for
explanation. The work must be done.
The whole business of an immortal be-
ing in this probationary life is new
crowded into one short hour——and that
I s an hour of mental agony and distrac-
tion.” Friends were weeping around,
and running to and fro in the frenzy of
grief. The poor sufi°erer, with a bosom
heaving with emotion, and an eye
gleaming with desperation, continued
his cry of “ What shall I do to be
saved ?” till, in less than an hour, his
voice was hushed in the stillness of
death.
(b) MR. 3OOTH’S TESTIMO-
N Y.—“I pay more attention,” says
Mr. ,,Booth, “ to people’s lives than to
their deaths. In all the visits I have
paid to the sick during the course of a
long ministry, I never met with one,
who was not previously serious, that
ever recovered from\ what he supposed
the brink of death, who afterwards per-
formed his vows, and became religious,
notwithstanding the very great appear-
ance there was in their favor when they
thought they could not recover.”
(0) TESTIMONY OF AN AME-
RICAN PHYSICIAN. -- A certain
American physician, whose piety led
him to attend not only to people’s bod-
ies, but to their souls, stated that he had
known a hundred or more instances in
his practice, of persons who, in prospect
of death, had been hopefully converted,
but had subsequently been restored to
health. Out of them all he did not
know of more than three who devoted
themselves to the service of Christ after
their recovery, or gave any evidence of
genuine conversion. If therefore they
had died as they expected, their hopes
of heaven would have proved terrible
delusions.
(cl) TESTIMONY OF AN ENG.
LISH PHYSICIAN.-—A pious English
physician once stated that he had known
725
368
REPROOF OF SIN.
-_‘
M
some three hundred sick persons who, he knew, gave any evidence of being
seen expecting to die, had been led, as really regenerated.
Soon after their
they supposed, to repentance of their recovery, they plunged, as a general
sins, and saving faith in Christ, but had thing, into the follies and vices of the
eventually been restored to health again. world.
Who would trust, then, in such
Onlv ten of all this number, so far as a conversion?
REPROOF OF SIN.
368. Faithfulness and Firmness in Re-
proving.
(a) LATIMER’S REPROOF.-
Latimer was obliged to attend the par-
liament and the convocation, but he
always avoided meddling in state aifairs,
and never stayed in London longer than
he could help. Once he was in town
on new-year’s day, at which season it
was customary for the bishops and no-
bility, then at court, to make presents
to the king: some of the former gave
considerable sums of money, in propor-
tion to their expectations; but Lati-
mer’s gift was more simple, and highly
characteristic of himself. It was a New
Testament, with a leaf doubled down at
Hebrews xiii. 4: “\/Vhoremongers
and adulterers God will judge 1” Henry
the Eighth, forcibly as he must have
felt this rebuke of his sins, did not ap-
pear offended, but manifested decided
kindness to his reprover. Bad men
seldom despise those whose holy and
consistent character condemns their
wicked conduct.
(Z2) POINTED REPLY TO A
YOUTH.—-An eminent man is said to
have been so remarkable for his rever-
ence of the Divine name, that even the
bold blasphemer was awed before him,
and could not swear. A youth, who
was his nephew, one day said to him,
“ Sir, I believe some parts of the Bible.”
The uncle replied, “ Great condescen-
sion in you, no doubt, to believe any
thing your Maker has said. Vain boy!
whether you believe it or not, that word
with which you trifle, shall judge you
in the last day.”
(0) “SIR, I FEAR GOD.”-On
one occasion, the Rev. A. Fuller,
when traveling in the Portsmouth mail,
Was much annoyed by the profane con-

versation of two young men who sat
opposite to him. After a time, one of
them, observing his gravity, accosted
him with an air of impertinence, inqui-
ring, in rude and indelicate language,
whether, on his arrival at Portsmouth,
he should not indulge himself in a man-
ner corresponding with their own
vicious intentions. Mr. Fuller, lower-
ing his ample brows, and looking the
inquirer full in the face, replied in a
measured and solemn tone, “Sir, I fear
God.” Scarcely a word was uttered
during the remainder of the journey.
(cl) IRRELIGION REPROVED.-—
A man was tried at Cambridge, for a
robbery committed on an aged lady, in
her own house. The judge was Baron
Smith, who maintained a consistent
profession of religion. He asked the
lady if the prisoner at the bar was the
person who robbed her'2 “ Truly, my
lord,” said she, “I cannot positively
say it was he, for it was rather dark
when I was robbed; so dark that I
could hardly discern the features of his
face.” “Where were you when he
robbed you '2” “ I was in a closet that
joins to my bed-chamber, and he had
got into my house while my servant had
gone out on an errand.” “ What day
of the week was it '2” “ It was the
Lord's day evening, my lord.” “ I-Iow
had you been employed when he robbed
you '2” “ My lord, I am a Protestant
dissenter ; I had been at the meeting
that day, and had retired into my closet
in the evening for prayer, and medita-
tion on what I had been hearing through
the day.” VV hen she uttered these
words, the court, which was crowded
with some hundreds of persons, includ-
ing many young men, rung with a peal
of loud laughter. The judge looked
round the court as one astonished, and
726
FAITHFULNESS AND F IRMNESS IN REPROVING.
365
T
with a decent solemnity laid his hands
upon the bench, as if going to rise, and,
with great emotion, spoke to the follow-
ing effect: “ Where am I’? Am I in
the place of one of the universities of
this kingdom, where it is to be supposed
that young gentlemen are educated in
the principles of religion, as well as in
all useful learning? and can such per-
sons laugh in so improper a manner on
hearing an aged Christian relate that
she retired into her closet on a Lord’s
day evening, for prayer and meditation!
Blush, and be ashamed, all of you, if
you are capable of it, as well you may.”
And then turning to the lady, he said,
“ Do not be discouraged, madam, by
this piece of rude and unmannerly, as
well as irreligious conduct; you have
no reason to be ashamed of what you
have on this occasion, and in this pub-
lic manner, said. It adds dignity to
your character, and shame belongs to
those who would expose it to ridicule.”
(6) THE SERVANT AND THE
SABBATH-BREAKER:-When Rev.
John Fletcher was residing, as a tutor,
in the family of Thomas Hill, Esq., of
Tern Hall, in Shropshire, (Eng.,) though
he felt the importance of religion, he
Was far from being an open and decided
servant of Christ. On one Sabbath
evening, a servant coming into his room
to make up his fire, observed he was
writing music, and looking at him with
serious concern, said, “ Sir, I am sorry
to see you so employed on the Lord’s
day.” At first his pride was offended,
and his resentment excited, at being re-
proved by a servant ; but, upon reflec-
tion, he felt that the reproof was just.
He immediately put away his music,
and from that hour became a strict ob-
server of the Lord’s day.
THE SABBATH SCHOOL
GIRL AND HER PROFA NE FATH-
ER.—In the town of W—, Cohnectieut,
there was a pious little girl belonging to
the Sabbath School, whose father was
an opposer of religion. One day he had
several men to assist him in haying.
They indulged in profanity and seoffing
at religion; and their employer rather
encouraged them in it. The little girl
overheard them, and was so shocked
and grieved at their conduct, that she

fi
went into the meadow and asked them
if they did not know it was wicked to
use such profane language '2 This
drew forth their ridicule, and so exas.
perated her father that he gave her a
severe rebuke, and sent her back into
the house. She returned as command-
ed; but retired to her closet and prayed
for those who had abused her. In the
course of the uay she overheard their
profanity again, and resolved again to
reprove them whatever might be the
results.
As she addressed them the second
time in her artless manner, her father
became so angry he told her: “My
daughter, we don’ t want any of your re-
ligion here ; if you say any th. g more
upon that subject, you must quit my
house. Now return and attend to your
business.” The little girl returned;
but resolved rather to quit the paternal
roof than to do violence to her con-
science. She went back to her cham-
ber, and having prayed to God, pro-
ceeded to tie up her clothes, and then
put on her bonnet and went out, scarce
knowing whither she went.
She went first to the field to bid her
father farewell, and fell at his feet, say-
ing, “Pa, I must leave you. I am go-~
ing away, but I shall pray for you."
She immediately left the field, and pass-
ing over the hill was soon out of sight-
The unfeeling father now began to re.
fleet on what he had done ; and his tor-
pid conscience began to awake. He
could not work; and after some time
he threw down his scythe and started in
pursuit of his daughter. As he was
hurrying on to overtake her, he
came near to a grove, and as he listen-
ed he heard a voice in the adjacent
field He crept softly along to the stone
wall and listened again: the woods
were still, he heard it again. It was
the voice of prayer—-the voice of his
little daughter praying for her father’s
salvation! The stubborn heart of the
father was melted; he hastened over
the Wall to his daughter ; and vlasping
her in his arms asked her to pray for
him, “ for,” said he,“ I am a great sin-
ner.” O! it was an affecting scene,
one that must have awakened the joy ot
angels! He carried his little daughter
727
369, 370
REPROOF OF SIN.

home in his arms, and ere long obtain-
ed folgivcness of his sins, and father
and child were soon rejoicing together
in the blessings of the Christian’s hope.
369. Proper Spirit in Reproving.
(a) THE PIOUS SAlLOR’S RE-
BUKE.—A merchant and a ship own-
er, of the city of New York, stood at
the entrance of his store, conversing
with a gentleman on business. A pi
ous sailor belonging to one of his vessels
approached the store with the design of
entering it, but observing the door was
occupied, modestly stepped aside, not
willing to interrupt the conversation.
As he stood waiting patiently an op-
portunity to pass into the store, he
overheard profane allusions made to
Christ, and turning to look he perceived
it was his employer that was speaking.
Instantly he changed his position, and
stood in front of the gentleman with his
head uncovered, and his hat under his
arm, and addressed his employer in the
following language. “Sir, will you for-
give me if Ispeak a word to you ?”
The gentleman recognizing in the sail-
or one of the crew of the vessel recent-
ly arrived, and supposing he might have
something to communicate affecting his
interests, kindly encouraged him to
speak on. Without further hesitation,
the sailor proceeded: “You won’t be
offended then, sir, with a poor ignorant
sailor, if he tells you his feelings.”
The gentleman again assured him he
had nothing to fear. “ Well then, sir,”
said the honest-hearted sailor with emo-
tion, “will you be so kind as not to
take the name of my blessed Jesus in
vain; he is a good Savior——he took
my feet from the pit and the miry clay,
and established my going. 0 sir!
don’t, if you please, take the name of
my Jesus in vain, he never did any one
any harm, but is always doing good.”
The rebuke was not lost upon him for
whom it was intended ; a tear suffused
his eye, and he replied to his urgent
request, “ My good fellow, God helping
me, I never will again take the name
of your Savior in vain.” “ Thank
you, sir,” said this faithful witness of

W
Christ, and putting on his hat he walk
ed away.
(Z2) THE YOUNG MAN NEAR
PHILADELPHIA.—A young man in
the vicinity of Philadelphia, was one
evening stopped in a grove, with the
demand, “your money or_your life.”
The robber then presented a pistol to
his breast. The young man, having a
large sum of money, proceeded leisurely
and calmly to hand it over to his ene-
my, at the same time setting before him
the wickedness and peril of his career.
The rebukes of the young man cut the
robber to the heart. He became en-
raged, cocked his pistol, held it to the
young man’s head, and with an oath,
said, “Stop that preaching, or I will
blow out your brains.” The young
man calmly replied,--“ Friend, to save
my money, I would not risk my life ;
but to save you from your evil course,
I am willing to die. I shall not cease
to plead with you.” He then poured
in the truth still more earnestly am‘
kindly. Soon the pistol fell to the
ground ; the tears began to fiow; and
the robber was overcome. He handed
the money all back with the remark_
“Icannot rob a man of such princi
ples.”
(c) DR. JOHNSON AND PRO-
FANITY.—Dr. Johnson never suffered
an oath to pass unrebuked in his pres-
ence. When a libertine, but a man of
some note, was once talking before
him, and interlarding his stories with
oaths, Johnson said, “Sir, all this
swearing will do nothing for our story ;
l beg you will not swear.” The nar-
rator went on swearing: Johnson said,
“I must again entreat you not to
swear.” He swore again, and Johnson
indignantly quitted the room.
870. Skill and Prudence in Rcproving.
(a) THE OPPOSING MILLER
REPROVED.——An active and skillful
young minister in the village of J-,
was told of a miller, who, with more
than usual profaneness, had repelled
every attempt to approach him on the
subject of religion, and had discouraged
the hopes and efforts of the few serious
persons in his vicinity. Among other
728
SKILL AND PRUDENCE IN REPROVING.
370
-—-
practices of sinful daring, he uniformly
kept his windmill, the most striking ob-
ject in the hamlet, going on the Sabbath.
In a little time, the minister determined
to make an effort for the benefit of the
hopeless man. He undertook the oflice
of going for his flour the next time him-
self. “A fine mill,” said he, as the
miller adjusted his sack to receive the
flour; “ a fine mill indeed; one of the
completest I have ever seen.” This
was nothing more than just—-the miller
had heard it a thousand times before;
and would firmly have thought it, though
he had never heard it once; but his
skill and judgment were still gratified
by this new testimony, and his feelings
conciliated, even towards the minister.
“But, oh I” continued his customer, af-
ter a little pause, “there is one defect
in it!” “What is that ?” carelessly
asked the miller. “ A very serious de-
fect too.” “ Eh I” replied the miller,
turning up his face. “ A defect that is
likely to counterbalance all its advanta-
ges.” “ \Vell, what is it ?” said the
miller, standing straight up, and looking
the minister in the face. He went on :
“A defect which is likely to ruin the
mill.” “ What is it ?” rejoined the
miller. “And will one day no doubt
destroy the owner.” “ And can’t you
say it out ?” exclaimed the impatient
miller. “ It goes on the Sabbath I” pro-
nounced the minister, in a firm, and
solemn, and monitory tone. The as-
tonished man stood blank and thun-
derstruck; and remained meek and
submissive under a remonstrance and
exhortation of a quarter of an hour’s
length, in which the danger of his state
and practices, and the call to repentance
towards God, and faith in our Lord
Jesus Christ, were fully proposed to
him.
(Z2) DR. GIFFORD’S REPROOF
OF PROFANITY.—-As the Rev. Dr.
Gifford was one day showing the Brit-
ish Museum to some strangers, he was
much shocked by the profane lan-
guage of a young gentleman belong-
ing to the party. Taking down an an-
cient copy of the Septuagint, he showed
it to the youth ; on which he exclaimed,
“ Oh I I can read this.” “ Then,” said
the doctor, “ read that passage,” point-
‘ing to the third commandment.

The
reproof went home to his conscience,
and he immediately refrained from
swearing.
(0) THE SURGEON AND HIS
PATIENT.--Mr. Meikle, a gentleman
of eminent piety, was a surgeon at
Carnwath, in Scotland. He was once
called to attend a gentleman who had
been stung in the face by a wasp or
bee, and found him very impatient, and
swearing, on account of his pain, in
great wrath. “ O doctor,” said he, “I
am in great torment ; can you any way
help '2” “ Do not fear, replied Mr. M.,
“all will be over in a little while.”
Still, however, the gentleman continue;
to swear, and at length his attendant de-
termined to reprove him. “I see no-
thing the matter,” said he, “only it
might have been in a better place.”
“Where might it have been?” asked
the sufferer. “ Why, on the tip of your
tongue.”
(d) POINTED REBUKE OF PRO-
FANITY.—-A minister traveling in a
stage coach, had the mortification of be-
ing shut up for the night with a naval
oflicer, who was much addicted to swear-
ing. At length the conversation turned
on the topic of the day, the Boulogne
flotilla; when the officer observed, “If
one of our ships meet with them, “ she
will send them all to the devil.” “ There
is a great deal of propriety, sir,” said
the minister, “ in your observation; for
as it is probable there are many profane
swearers on board the French ships,
should these men die in their sins, they
will certainly go to the devil.”
(e) VVESLEY, AND A YOUNG
OFFICER.--The Rev. John kl/esley
once traveled in a ‘stage coach with a
young officer, who swore and uttered
curses upon himself in almost every
sentence. Mr. \V. asked him ifhe had
read the Common Prayer Book; for, if
he had, he might remember that collect
beginning, “ O God, who art ever more
ready to hear than we are to pray, and
art wont to give more than either we
desire or deserve.” The young gentle-
man, who had contracted a very com-
mon, but despicably vulgar and sinful
habit, had the good sense to make the
application, and behave accordingly.
729
370
REPROOF OF SIN.

-—-
HOWE AND THE NOBLE-
l\IAN.-—At the time when the Confor-
mity Bill was debated in Parliament,
Mr. Howe passed a noble lord in a chair
in St. J ames’s Park, who sent his foot-
man to call him, desiring to speak WitI1
him on this subject. In the conversation,
speaking of the opponents of the dissent-
ers, he said, “ D——n these wretches, for
they are mad.” Mr. Howe, who was
no stranger to the nobleman, expressed
great satisfaction in the thought that
there is‘a God who governs the world,
who will finally make retribution to all
according to their present characters;
“And he, my lord, has declared he will
make a difference between him that
sweareth, and him that feareth an oath.”
The nobleman was struck with the hint,
and said, “I thank you, sir, for your
freedom. I take your meaning, and
shall endeavor to make good use of it.”
Mr. Howe replied, “My lord, I have
more reason to thank your lordship for
saving me the most diflicult part of a
discourse, which is the application.”
(g) MEMNON AND HIS SOL-
DIER.—During the war between A1-
exander the Great and Darius, King of
Persia, a soldier in the army of the lat-
ter, thought to ingratiate himself with
Memnon, the Persian General, by utter-
ing the fiercest invectives against Alex-
ander: Memnon gently struck the fel-
low with his spear, and answered,
“Friend, I pay you to fight against Al-
exander, not to revile him.”
(h) MR. HOWE AND THE
PROFANE.——The excellent Mr. Howe
being at dinner with some persons of
fashion, a gentleman expatiated largely
in praise of King Charles I., introducing
some harsh reflections upon others. Mr.
Howe, observing that the gentleman
mixed many oaths with his discourse,
told him that, in his humble opinion, he
had emitted a singular excellence in the
character of that prince. The gentle-
man eagerly desired him to mention it,
and seemed all impatience to know what
it was. “ It was this, sir,” said Mr.
Howe ; “ he was never heard to swear
an oath in common conversation.” The
hint was as politely received as given ;
and the gentleman promised to break
ofl tne practice.

_-—_~

At another time, passing two persons
of quality, who were talking with great
eagerness, and imprecating curses on
each other repeatedly ; Mr. H. said to
them, taking off his hat in a respectful
manner, “I pray God save you both ;”
for which handsome reproof they imme-
diately returned him thanks.
(i) PROFANITY SII.-ENCED.-—
As a minister was on his vay from one
town to another, for several miles his
ears were assailed by oaths too awful to
mention: how to .top it he was at a loss
to know: at last, having looked to God
for direction, he asked the gentlemen if
they would grant a stranger a particu
lar favor. They all agreed that if it
were in their power. they would grant
it. Being assured that it was in their
power, the minister begged that what he
was going to say to them might not
give offence. They all agreed that
whatever he said should not. Seeing
their curiosity excited, he mildly told
them that he was astonished to hear so
many oaths uttered, and would esteem
it agreat favor if they would refrain
from them. One of the gentlemen
made this reply, “You have acted wise-
ly in making us promise to perform,
and also not to be angry; and we, as
gentlemen, will endeavor to keep our
word. I believe you are correct in dis-
liking swearing; it is a very bad cus-
tom, and it is a pity there should be so
much of it ; for my own part, I am not
one who swears as some do.” The
minister, glad to hear this confession,
said that he was unacquainted with the
meaning of some common oaths, bu
would briefly explain the meaning 01
some words he heard repeated by them
and they would be better able to judge
as to their propriety; accordingly he
went over word by word, explaining
each, when they all agreed they were
wrong in using them, and promised to
refrain in future. It is gratifying to
know that .hey did as they said. Oae
loquacious gentleman, who had inter-
larded almost every sentence with oaths,
now sat silent; even the coachm.m
ceased to add an oath in calling to his
horses. The conversation turned upon
useful subjects, and the minister in-
wardly thanked God for the word spo-
730
SKILL AND PRUDENCE IN REPROVING.
378
Ken in season. One of their friends,
who was riding inside, wishing to enjoy
the fine evening breeze, proposed getting
on the outside, and the minister offered
to give him his place. “ No, no,” cried
more than one, “you must not leave us,
you must remain, for your company is
highly necessary.” It is pleasing to say
that for nearly forty miles, except once,
they kept to their promise: and when
he left the coach, they thanked him for
his company, and hoped they should not
forget his advice. How important is it
to use prudence with zeal l
REPLY TO A SABBATH
BREAKER.—One Lord’s day, a few
children were gathered round the porch
of a village church, waiting for the com-
mencement of public worship, when a
wagon, with a number of persons in it
who were going out on pleasure, stop-
ped, and one of the men called out to
the children, “ Halloo there, what sort
of religion do you have there ?” One
of the young lads replied, “A sort of
religion that forbids our traveling on
the Sabbath.”
(Ir) TARRYING AT JERICI-IO.-—
A very young clergyman, who had just
left college, presented a petition to the
King of Prussia, requesting that his Ma-
jesty would appoint him inspector in a
certain place where a vacancy had just
happened. As it was an ofliee of much
consequence, the King was offended at
the presumption and importunity of so
young a man, and instead of any an-
swer to the petition, he wrote under-
neath, “2 Book of Samuel, Chap. x.
ver. 5,” and returned it. The young
clergyman was eager to examine the
quotation, but, to his great disappoint-
ment, found the words, “ Tarry at Jer-
icho until your beards be grown.”
(1) THE DEIST AND THE QUA_
KER.--A gay young man, traveling
in a stage coach to London, forced his
deistical sentiments on the company by
attempting to ridicule the Scriptures 5
and, among other topics, made himself
merry with the story of David and Go-
liath, strongly urging the impossibility
ofa youth like David being able to throw
a stone with suflicient force to sink into
the gian"s forehead. On this he ap-
pealed tc ..‘:/2 company, and parucularly

tg a grave‘ Quaker gentleman, vtho sat
silent in one corner of the carriage.
“Indeed, friend,” replied he, “I do not
think it at all improbable, if the Phil1s-
tine’s head was as soft as thine.” This
grave rebuke reduced the young man to
silence.
(m) REPROOFS FROM DR.
WAUGH.—At one of the half-yearly
examinations at the Protestant Dissent-
ers’ Grammar School, at Mill Hill, the
head master informed the examiners
that he had been exceedingly tried, by
the misconduct and perverseness of a boy
who had done something very wrong;
and who, though he acknowledged the
fact, could not be brought to acknowl-
edge the magnitude of the offence. The
examiners were requested to expostulate
with the boy, and try if he could be
brought to feel and deplore it. Dr.
Waugh was solicited to undertake the
task; and the boy was, in consequence,
brought before him. How long have
you been in the school, my boy ?” ask-
ed the doctor. “Four months, sir.”
“ When did you hear from your father
last ?” “ My father’s dead, sir.” “ Ay!
alas the day l ’tis a great loss, a great
loss, that of a father. But God can
make it up to you, by giving you a
tender, affectionate mother.” On this
the boy, who had previously seemed as
hard as a flint, began to soften. The
doctor proceeded : “ Well, laddie, where
is your mother?” “ On her voyage
home from India, sir.” “Ayl good
news for you, my boy: do you love
your mother?” “Yes, sir.” “ And
do you expect to see her soon ?” “Yes,
sir.” “ Do you think she loves you '2”
“Yes, sir, I am sure of it.” “ Then
think, my dear laddie, think of her feel-
ings when she comes here, and finds
that, instead of your being in favor with
every one, you are in such deep dis-
grace as to run the risk of expulsion:
and yet are too hardened to acknowl-
edge that you have done wrong. \JVin-
na ye break your poor mother’s heart,
think ye ? Just think 0’ that, my lad.”
The poor culprit burst into a flood OI
tears, acknowledged his fault, and pro-
mised amendment.
On one occasion, a young minister
having animadverted, in the presence of
731
3370, 3'71
REPROOF OF SIN.

I)r. Waugh, on the talents of another
minister, in a manner which he thought
might leave an unfavorable impression
on the minds of some of the company,
Dr. VV. observed, “I have known Mr.
many years, and I never knew
him to speak disrespectfully of a brother
in my life.”
At another time, in a company of
nearly forty gentlemen, a student for the
ministry entertained those around him
with some ungenerous remarks on a
popular preacher in London. Dr.
Waugh looked at him for some time with
pity and grief depicted in his counte-
nance, and when he had thus arrested
the attention of the speaker, he mildly
remarked, “ My friend, there is a say-
ing in a good old book which I would
recc mmend to your consideration : ‘ The
spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to en-
V .7 77
y(re) THE CLERGYMAN AND
THE PROFLIGATE.——A clergyman
having made several attempts to reform
a profligate, was at length repulsed with,
“ It is all in vain, doctor ; you cannot get
me to change my religion.” “I do not
want that,” replied the good man; “I
wish religion to change you.”
(0) WESLEY’S REQUEST OF
THE OFFICER.--John Wesley, hav-
ing to travel some distance in a stage
coach, fell in with a pleasant tem-
pered, well informed officer. His
conversation was sprightly, and enter-
taining, but frequently mingled with
oaths. When they were about to take
the next stage, Mr. Wesley took the of-
ficer apart, and after expressing the
pleasure he had enjoyed in his company,
told him he was thereby encouraged to
ask of him a very great favor. “I
would take a pleasure in obliging you,’ ’
said the officer, “and I am sure you
will not make an unreasonable request.”
“Then,” says Mr. Wesley, “as we
have to travel together some time, I beg
that if I should so far forget myself as
to swear, you will kindly reprove me.”
The officer immediately saw the motive,
and felt the force of the request, and
smiling said, “None but Mr. VVesley
could have conceived a reproof in such
a manr.er.”

(p) A NOBLEMAN REPROVED
BY HIS SERVANT.—-A nobleman
seeing a large stone lying near his gate,
ordered his servant, with an oath, to
send it to hell. “ If,” said the servant,
“ I were to throw it to Heaven, it would '
be more completely out of your lord-
ship’s way.”
(q) WHERE YOU OUGHT TO
HAVE BEEN.—-A clergyman who
was in the habit of preaching in differ-
ent parts of the country, was once at an
inn, where he observed a horse-jockey
trying to take in a simple gentleman, by
imposing upon him a broken winded
horse for a sound one. The parson knew
the bad character of the jockey, and, tak-
ing the gentleman aside, told him to be
cautious of the person he was dealing
with. The gentleman finally declined
the purchase, and the jockey, quite net-
tled, observed, “ Parson, I would much
rather hear you preach than see you
privately interfere in bargains between
man and man, in this way.” “ WVell,”
replied the parson, “if you had been
where you ought to have been last Sun-
day, you might have heard me preach.”
“Where was that '2” inquired the jock-
ey. “ In the State Prison,” returned
the clergyman.
371. Happy Effects of Repreving.
(a) SUCCESSFUL REBUKE OF‘
PROFANITY.—When the Rev. Mr.
K was settled in his congregation
of S ,they could not furnish him
with a manse, or even with lodgings.
In these circumstances, a Captain P—,
in the neighborhood, though a stranger
to religion, generously took him into his
family, and gave him his board, it is be-
lieved, gratuitously. But our young
clergyman soon found himself in very
unpleasant circumstances, owing to the
captain’s usual practice of profane
swearing. Satisfied of his duty, how-
ever, he determined to perform it at all
hazards. Accordingly, one day at ta-
ble, after a very liberal volley of oaths
from the captain, he observed calmly,
“Captain, you have certainly on the
present occasion made use of a number
of very improper terms.” The captain,

732
NHSCELLANEOUS.

.-:-—
who was rather a choleric man, was in-
stantly in a blaze. “Pray, sir, what
improper terms have I used ?” “ Sure-
ly, captain, you must know,” replied
‘he clergyman, with greater coolness,
“ and having already put me to the pain
of hearing them, you cannot be in ear-
nest in imposing upon me the additional
pain of repeating them.” “ You are
right, sir,” resumed the captain, “ you
are right. Support your character, and
we will respect you. We have a par-
cel of clergymen around us here, who
seem quite uneasy till they get us to un-
derstand that we may use any freedom
we please before them, and we despise
them.” It ought to be known, that the
captain never afterwards repeated the
offence in his presence, and always
treated Mr. K—-- with marked respect,
and befriended him in all his interests.
(Z2) ALLFlINE’S REP ROOF.-—The
Rev. Joseph Alleine was very faithful
and impartial in administering reproof.
Once, when employed in a work of this
kind, he said to a Christian friend, “I
am now going about that which is like-
ly to m.t.e a very dear and obliging
friend become an enemy. But, how-
ever, it cannot be omitted; it is better
to lose man's favor than God’s.” But,
so far from becoming his enemy for his
conscientious faithfulness to him, he ra-
ther loved him the more ever after, as
long as he lived.
(0) THE FAITHFUL YOUNG
INDIAN.—-At a meeting of a mission-
ary society in Philadelphia, at which
two Indian chiefs were present, and ad-
dressed a very large audience, the Rev.
Mr. Finley, in the concluding part of
his speech, related one or‘ two very in-
teresting anecdotes, to show the progress
of the revival, and the depth of solid pi-
ety among the Wyandots. In one of
his tours he took with him an Indian
youth of zeal and piety. On setting
out, he told him it was possible, when
he got among sinful and wicked com-
pany, that he might forget his God,
and again betake himself to the paths of
folly and sin. “But,” said he, calling
him by his name, “I would rather
preach your funeral sermon than see
you depart from the paths of piety.”
They proceeded, and in their tour came

371, 372
to the house of a very weal.ny merchant,
where they remained for some time.
The merchant had two or three clerks,
who were giddy, gay young men. The
Indian boy was put to sleep in a room
with these clerks. Before retiring to
bed, he knelt down to pray. The oth-
ers began to disturb and torment him,
but he heeded them not. This contin-
ued for some time : at length, one night
when they were become so"bad as to
disturb him very much, the youth re-
monstrated, pointed out the wickedness
of their conduct, and concluded by say-
ing, that they were really worse than
any Indian in all the Wyandot tribe of
Upper Sandusky, observing, that Indians
would be ashamed of such conduct, as
they had more common sense, virtue,
and piety. This appeal came home
with keen conviction to the hearts of
the young men. The effect was deep
and lasting, the reproof was blessed to
them, and they became humble and de-
voted Christians.
(ci) MARTIN AND THE GOW NS.
MAN .—When the Rev. Henry Martyn
was at college, he was called to visit a
family in great distress on account of
the expected death of the husband and
father. Some of the family, lest the ag-
ony of their grief should add to the dis-
tress of the dying man, had removed to
another house, where Martyn found a
gownsman reading a play to them with
a view to their consolation. He very
properly rebuked him with some severi-
ty for this great impropriety, and was
led to fear, from the manner in which
his reproof was received, that some un-
pleasant results might follow. But
mark the goodness of God, in blessing
the means employed for the advance-
ment of his glory. When this gowns-
man again saw Martyn, it was to thank
him for his faithful admonition, which
proved the means of a saving change of
heart ; and these two holy inen labored
together in India in extending the know-
ledge of the Lord Jesus.
3379. Miscellaneous.
(a) FULLER’S SEVERITY.—-The
natural temper of the Rev. Andrew Ful-
ler, of Kettering, though neither churl-
733
372,373
RESTITUTION.
ish nor morose, was not distinguished by
gentleness, meekness, or affability. He
could rarely be faithful without being
severe ; and, in giving reproof, he was
often betrayed into intemperate zeal.
Once, at a meeting of ministers, he took
occasion to correct an erroneous opinion,
delivered by one of his brethren ; and
he laid on his censure so heavily, that
Dr. Ryland called out vehemently, in his
own peculiar‘ tone of voice, “Brother
Fuller! brother Fuller! you can never
admonish a mistaken friend, but you must
take up a sledge hammer and knock his
brains out !”
(b) JUDGE REPROVED BY A
LOOK.-—An eminent judge of Virginia,
once said to a friend, that the most cut-
ting reproof he had ever received for

—-
aw
profaneness, was without words. He
happened to be crossing a ferry with
Dr. John H. Rice. On account of
shallows, the boat could not be brought
to land, and they were carried to the
shore by the black ferryman. One of
these was so careless as to suffer Judge
H.’s clothes to become wetted, and the
latter expressed his anger by an impre-
cation. Dr. Rice, without saying a
word, turned to him his large speaking
eye, with sorrowful expression. “I ne-
ver so felt a reproof,” said the judge,
“in my life; and instantly begged his
pardon. ‘Ask pardon of God,’ said
Dr. Rice. I shall never orget it.”
At this time Judge H. was entirely ig-
norant who his reprover was.
373. RESTITUTION
(a) A PENITENT YOUTH.--A
draper in Yarmouth, England, discov-
ered that a lad in his service had stolen
his property. He was tried, found guil-
ty, and sentenced to seven years’ trans-
portation ; but, on account of some fa-
vorable traits in his character, applica-
tion was made to the Secretary of State,
and the punishment was mitigated to
five years’ imprisonment in the Mill-
bank Penitentiary. At the expiration
of three years, his conduct induced the
authorities to release him, when he went
at once to Yarmouth, called on his for-
mer employer, and, in the spirit of a
sincere penitent, expressed his sorrow
for his dishonesty and ingratitude to so
good a master, and said, “Sir, I have
taken care of the money that I took
away, and am now come to return your
property.” The gentleman was sur-
prised at this announcement; and see-
ing him put his hand in his pocket, be-
gan to expect to receive from him a few
pounds. Great was his astonishment,
when the lad handed to him £102 16s.
6d.
(5) A PENITENT YOUNG JEI/V.
-A §oung Jew, who had been admitted
.-nto an asylum for the benefit of that
nation, new Dusseldorf, in the Prus-
sian dominions, after having long given

pain by his improper behavior, became
very deeply impressed under a sermon,
preached by the Rev. Mr. Schmidt, and
afterwards furnished evidence that his
impressions were deep and abiding.
In the course of one of his sermons,
the minister, to whom we have referred,
was led to speak of persons who glory
in their shame, and even boast of their
crimes in having robbed or defrauded
their neighbors. This young man be-
came visibly affected, turned pale, fell
into fits, and was carried out of the
place. He was afterwards visited by
the minister, to whom he exclaimed, “I
am lost ; lost without remedy.” In the
course of the conversation, he confessed
that he had robbed a widow of one thou-
sand dollars, and that his life had been
one whole series of awful crimes. The
minister did not attempt to palliate his
sins, but explained to him the atonement
of Jesus, and the efficacy of his blood to
take away all sin, encouraging him in
this way to seek pardon. This at length
afforded him rest. He now felt it his
duty to travel to the residence of the
widow, to acknowledge his crime, and
thus to subject himself to the punish-
ment of the law. When he was last:
heard of, he had set out on his journey,
with the determination that, if the wid-
734
RESTITUTION.
373
ow did not prosecute him, he would, by
his labor, pay the debt due to her.
(0) SIXTY POUNDS RESTORED.
-A gentleman residing in the vicinity
of York once received an anonymous
letter, appointing a meeting in the cat-
market, when, as the letter stated,
something would be communicated
for his advantage. The gentleman
kept the appointment, and was accosted
by a respectable looking man, who pro-
posed that they should go to an inn to-
gether. The gentleman consented ;
and having entered a private room, they
both sat down at a table, when the stran-
ger presented his new friend with sixty
pounds, which he said was his property.
The gentleman refused to take it with-
out an explanation; but the stranger
then presented him with sixty pounds
more, and said that this was also due
besides, as interest for the money, sim-
ple and compound, during the time he
held his property. He afterwards gave
the following explanation to the gentle-
man: “ More than twenty years ago,
you had an uncle, whose property you
now possess: his age and infirmities
rendered it expedient for him to have a
housekeeper to manage his affairs. My
sister was that housekeeper. Some time
after his death she found sixty pounds
folded up in one of her trunks, which
she believed to have belonged to him at
the time of his death. She sent for me,
gave it into my hands, and requested
that I would restore it to you, as the
lawful heir of her master’s property.
This I promised to do, but being embar-
rassed in my circumstances at the time,
I made use of it for my own purposes.
Inow make the proper restitution. I
do it to the utmost, and with pleasure ;
and I do assure you that this transac-
tion has taken a very heavy weight
from my distressed mind.” Various
nircumstances then occurred to the gen-
tleman’s mind, which left no doubt of
the truth of the stranger’s story.
(at) STOLEN WATCH RE-
STORED.-—As a gentleman in Lon-
don entered his house, he found a well
dressed female sitting on the stairs, who
asked pardon for the liberty she had ta-
ken, saying, that hearing the alarm of
a mad dog, she had taken refuge in his

house, and had almost fainted away.
On hearing her story, the gentleman
gave her some refreshment, when she
recovered and walked off, thanking him
for his civility. In the evening his lady
missed a gold watch, which she had left
hanging at the head of her bed; the
servants said no person had been in that
room since they had rnade up the bed,
when they were certain the watch was
there. It was, therefore, concluded that
this female was the thief.
Fifteen years afterwards, the guard
of the York mail coach called with a
small parcel, saying, that a gentleman
had given him five shillings to deliver
it. On opening the parcel, it was found
to contain the lost watch, and a note
from a female, saying, that as the gospel
had changed her heart, she desired to
return the watch to its rightful owner.
(6) THE SURPLUS CHANGE
RETURNED.—-In the course of the
forenoon of yesterday, says the New
York Statesman, for 183-, a person call-
ed at the office of Messrs. Beers and
Bunnell, and handed to Mr. Beers the
sum of twenty dollars, stating that it
was from a young man who, in chang-
ing money for his master, received that
sum above what he should have re.
ceived, at Beers and Bunnell’s office,
and, without saying any thing of it to his
master, appropriated it to his own use.
The person who handed in the money
declined giving the name of the con.
science-struck young man, but observed
that he was lying on a bed of sickness,
probably of death, and that he could not
rest in view of the hereafter, till the mo-
ney had been returned as evidence of
his bitter contrition.
( f) THE DISHONEST CLERK.
——A young man, says a writer in the
N. Y. Evangelist, went into one of our
large cities and offered his services to a
man in important public business.
Here he labored for years, having the
entire confidence of his employer. But
he performed a hard service at small
wages, and was many times deprived
of his rest all night. At length the
thought thwarted his mind, that the en-
tire confidence placed in him gave him
opportunity to do himself justz'ce. This
evil thought was the opening wedge.
735
373
RESTITUTION.
He laid by from time to time such sums
as he supposed would make up the de-
feet in his wages, till before he quitted
the man it amounted to some hundreds
of dollars. He then went into another
part of the country to thrive on his
earnings, and as he still supposed, hon-
est earnings. There, though still in
rather humble life, he thrived well, and
was esteemed and respected, till within
a few years since. The Spirit of God
came down upon the people where he
lived. He became awakened, and at
length obtained a hope in the mercy of
God, and took his seat with those who
felt as he did. But his conscience was
slumbering over the scenes of olden
time. He was happy because God suf-
fered past scenes to be forgotten. He
had never pondered on the doctrine of
retribution, and went sailing on to hea-
ven with fair breeze and sails all filled.
At length, however, he became cast
down and disconsolate, and the mystery
was that no one could get from him the
secret of his distress, not even his be-
loved wife. What could the matter be?
At length, when he could keep the
fire shut up in his bones no longer, he
sought an interview with his pastor.
He watched a long time to find him en-
tirely alone, and where he could not be
overheard while he opened his whole
heart. There was a very sequestered
spot in a deep glen, where the pastor
used to retire to hold uninterrupted
communion with God. There this
wretched man met him and told him all
his heart—the length, and breadth, and
height, and aggravation of his sin. And
what must he do? He could not dis-
close the matter to his wife. it would
ruin his family. He dare not seek and
could not find the man he had wronged
—the disclosure would imprison him.
Indeed he was in the grave by this
time, and whether any heir of his was
living, to whom the debt could be re-
funded, so that God would forgive him
and let him live, demanded a doubt.
At length the pastor set out to seek the
heirs, if they could be found, that the
money might be refunded to them. On
his way he called on the writer of this
and gave me the whole story. After
gong from street to street and mouse to

house many days, till it seemed to him
impossible that he should ever find the
object of his chase, he entered a lonely
and humble habitation, where he found
the only surviving daughter and child
of the injured man. And to her at that
time he was indeed an angel of mercy .
She had been, as he presumed, in better
circumstances, but was brought to pov-
erty, and was then a widow poor and
needy. He paid her some two hundred
dollars, and will perhaps come on simi-
lar errands of mercy hereafter. The
widow he found trying to support her
half famished family by sewin .
(g) THE INFIDEL AND HIS
EMPLOYER.-—Mr. C—- an avowed
infidel, was for many years in the em-
ploy of a worthy and respectable me.
chanic, in a small village in R. I. He
was a man of steady habits and a good
workman, and consequently had se-
cured the favor and confidence of MP.
A----, his employer. It was Mr. A--’s
custom to settle with his workmen but
once a year.
At one time, a few months befere the
time for settlement arrived, M]. C—--
was in want of some money, and called
at Mr A——’s counting-room, and asked
him for twenty-five dollars. The
money was handed him, but, through
negligence, no charge made agamst
him. At the expiration of the year,
Mr C—- went to receive the remainder
of his wages, but perceiving the $25
was forgotten by his employer, received
the whole amount credited him.
Years passed on, and a revival of re-
ligion took place in that village, and,
among those who were hopefully con-
verted was the infidel C—-. But no
sooner had the Spirit of God wrought a
work of grace in his heart, than he be-
gan to think of the injury he had done
his employer, and he felt that he ought
to confess his sin and make restitution.
But unsubdued pride at first prevented
his doing this. At length, convictions
for this sin came with such overwhelming
force as to threaten destruction to his
peace of mind, and he went to Mr. A--,
confessed his guilt, paid him back the
$25, and went on his way rejoicing. Ht
remained afterwards a consistent fol
lower of Christ.
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REV. DR. AtI).>—LT\-I CL.--\R.I{E.


RESTITUTION.
373
-_
,_
(lt) PAINFUL EFFECTS OF A
JOKE.-—A gentleman in at-
tended the preaching of Dr. Clarke,
and was deeply convinced of sin. With
strong prayer and tears he sought par-
don, but found not. Being confined by
sickness soon after, he sent for Dr.
Clarke, who came; but learning how
long he had mourned, and with what
earnestness he had sought salvation, he
secretly wondered at God’s so long
withholding freedom from such deep
repentance; and finding the lamp of
life burning low, and mental agony
hurrying on its extinction, with tender
but firm language he said, “It is not
often, Mr. , that God thus deals
with a soul so deeply humbled as yours,
and in his own appointed way seeking
redemption. Sir, there must be a
cause. You have left something un-
done which it is your duty and interest
to have done. God judge between you
and it.”
Fixing his eyes intently on Dr.
Clarke, the gentleman gave the follow-
ing narration: “In the year I
was at ,and took my passage in
the ship for England. Before
sailing, some merchants put on board a
small bag of dollars, which were given
in charge to the captain for such and
such parties. I saw the transaction,
and noticed the captain’s carelessness,
who left the bag day after day rolling
upon the locker. For the simple pur-
pose of frightening him, I hid it. He
made no inquiries, and we arrived at
I still retained it till it should
be missed. Months passed, and still no
inquiry was made. The parties to
whom it had been consigned came to
the captain for it. He remembered re-
ceiving it in charge, but no more. It
must have been left behind. Search
was made, letters written, but it could
not be found. All this occupied some
months. I had now become alarmed
and ashamed to confess, lest I should
implicate my character. '
“ The captain was sued, and, having
nothing to pay, was cast into prison.
He maintained his innocence as to the
theft, but confessed his carelessness.



He languished two years in prison, and
died. Guilt had by this time hardened
my mind. I strove to be happy in the
amusements of the world, but all in
vain. Under your preaching the voice
of God broke in upon my conscience. I
have agonized at the throne of mercy
for the sake of Christ for pardon; but
God is deaf to my prayer. I must go
down to the grave unpardmed, un-
saved.”
Dr. Clarke suggested to be dying
penitent that God claimed from him not
only repentance, but restitution. The
widow and fatherless children still
lived. The gentleman readily consent-
ed. The sum, with interest and com-
pound interest, was made up and given
to the widow, to whom the circumstan-
ces were made known. The dying
man’s mind was calmed, and soon, in
firm hope of pardon, he died.
(2') THE PURSE RESTORED.—-
Forty-two years ago, says a writer in
the Boston Mercantile Journal of 183-,
my father was a poor man, with a wife
as industrious as himself, and one child.
and he worked early and late for a sup-
port. One dollar then in his purse
made him feel richer than he now feels
with a title to a good farm.
Returning home one day with a purse
containing ten silver dollars in his pock-
et, he lost it on the road. Long and
diligent was the search for it, but in
vain, as a neighbor had picked it up
and appropriated it to his own use. It
must, however, have been a fire in his
bosom; for how could he travel that
road, or pass the house of his neighbor,
without feeling the lashes of a guilty
conscience ?
Recently he has been brought under
the influence of that gospel which teach-
es man to do justly. He went to his
neighbor, confessed the injury done,
asked his forgiveness, restored the mo-
ney, promised the accumulated interest
of forty two years, and any other remu-
neration in his power. “ Not a wink,”
said he, “could I sleep last night ; nor
could I rest till I had made confession
and restitution.”
47
737
374
RICHES.
__ -_\----

374. RICHES.
(a) RICHES AND COVETOUS-
NESS.--A respectable widow lady,
with a very small income, which she
was obliged to eke out by the produce
of her own industry and ingenuity, was
remarkable for her generous liberality,
especially in contributing to the cause
of religion. When any work of pious
benevolence was going forward, her
minister hesitated to call on her, lest her
liberal spirit should prompt her to con-
tribute beyond her ability ; but she was
always sure to find out what was in
hand, and voluntarily to offer a dona-
tion equal to those of persons in com-
parative afliuence, accompanied by a
gentle rebuke to her minister for having
passed her by. In process of time, this
lady came into the possession of an
ample fortune, greatly to the joy of all
who knew her willing liberality. But
it was with no small degree of regret
that her minister observed she no longer
came forward unsolicited towards the
cause of Christ, and that when applied
to, she yielded her aid but coldly and
grudgingly, and sometimes excused her-
self from giving at all. On one occa-
sion she presented a shilling to the same
cause to which she had formerly given
a guinea, when in a state of compara-
tive poverty. The minister felt it his
duty to expostulate with her, and re-
mind her of her former generosity when
her means were so circumscribed. “ Ah!
sir,” she affectingly replied, “then I had
the shilling means, but the guinea
heart ; nowI have the guinea means,
but only the shilling heart. Then, I
received from my heavenly Father’s
hand, day by day, my daily bread, and
I had enough, and to spare; now, I
have to look to my ample income, butl
live in constant apprehension that I may
come to want I” Can any reader be at a
loss to decide which was the time of her
poverty and which of her riches’.Z
(Z2) AFFECTING CONTRAST.-—
I once accompanied a friend, wrote the
Rev. S. Kilpin, in 1830, to see the prince-
ly abode of a certain nobleman, and
Was much struck with the splendor of

the place. The castle stood on the side
of a beautiful river, the water of which,
as it rushed over some large frag-
ments of an old bridge, glittered in the
sunbeams. The warder opened the
massy gate at the lodge, and we pro-
ceeded up an avenue hewn through the
solid rock, whose sides were festooned
with different shrubs and lichens. The
towers and battlements were high and
strong ; the smoothly shaven lawn wide
and green ; the pleasure grounds exten-
sive ; and the broad, dark, and flat
branches of the goodly cedars swept
gracefullv the very ground.
But if the outside of the castle was
fair to gaze upon, the inside of it was
still more worthy of attention. Almost
every room was ornamented with va
luable paintings, hung with curious ta-
pestry, and adorned with costly vases ;
statues of marble stood in niches in the
hall, and in the avenues leading from
one apartment to another; the armory
was filled with coats of mail, helmets,
spears, and various ancient instruments
of warfare ; and some thousands of vo-
lumes were arranged in the library.
The pomp and splendor of the whole
were enough to make any one believe
that the possessor of such a mansion
must be a rich man; and yet, at the
moment thatl was walking through his
castle, he himself was not permitted to
enter it I His constitution was decayed ;
his conduct had diminished his re-
sources, so that his own castle was, for
a season, closed against him. How
then could he be a rich who had neither‘
health of body nor peace of mind ?
Now, it happened, at the time 01
which I am speaking, that I knew a
man who was considered poor, who lived
at no great distance from the castle.
He dwelt near the road side, and though
he had neither turrets, nor lawns, nor
goodly cedars, 'et his cottage was a
comfortable abode ; the green before his
door Was very pleasant, and the fruit
trees in his little garden were covered
with blossoms.
He had neither paintings, statues, not
738
RICHES.
3'71
vases ; nor would they have made him
more happy had he possessed them. A
sampler, which had been wrought by
his wife in her youthful days, hung
framed and glazed opposite the window ;
and a painted tea-tray Was placed up-
right upon a table against the wall:
these were the principal decorations of
his humble abode. His library was not
like that of the castle, for it consisted
only of about half-a-dozen books, one
of which was the Bible, and a few tracts.
He was a hard-working man, had an
excellent constitution, which he did not
abuse; and, what was better than all,
he was a reader of his Bible, and a
humble and sincere disciple of Jesus
Christ. He had health of body and
peace of mind.
(0) THE MERCHANT AND THE
“ WHITE STONE.”—ln the strait
between Johor and Rhio, there is a
small white rock, called the “ White
Stone,” very little elevated above the
water, and so exactly in the centre of
the passage, that many vessels, un-
acquainted with it, have been wrecked
upon it. A Portuguese merchant pass-
ing this strait, in a vessel of his own,
richly laden with gold and other va-
luable commodities, asked the pilot
when this rock would be passed: but
each moment appearing to him long
until he was secure from the danger,
he repeated his question so often,
that the pilot impatiently told him the
rock was passed. The merchant, trans-
ported with joy, impiously exclaim-
ed, that “ God could not now make
him poor.” But in a little while, the
vessel struck on the ‘White Stone, and
all his wealth was ingulfed in the
abyss; life alone remained, to make
him feel his misery and his punishment.
(d) “ [T \VlLL NOT DO.”—Mr.
Jeremiah Burroughs, a pious minister,
mentions the case of a rich man, who,
when he lay on his sick-bed, called for
his bags of money; and having laid a
bag of gold to his heart, after a little he
bade them take it away, saying, “It
will not do I it will not do I”
(e) THE RlCH MAN’S PORTION.
—-A nobleman, who lived in the neigh-
borhood of the Rev. Mr. D , one
day asked him to dine with him. Be-


fore dinner they walked into the garden,
and after viewing the various produc-
tions and rarities with which it abounded,
his lordship exclaimed, “ Well, Mr.
D , you see Iwant for nothing: I
have all that my heart can wish for.”
As Mr. D made no reply, but ap-
peared thoughtful, his lordship asked
him the reason. “ \Vhy, my lord,”
said the old man, “ I have been think-
ing, that a man may have all these
things, and go to hell after all. The
words powerfully struck ‘he nobleman,
and through the blessing of God termi-
nated in his conversion.
THE NOBLEHAN AND THE
COTTAGER.—A nobleman in the
north of England once said to a gentle-
man who accompanied him in a walk,
“ These beautiful grounds, as far as your
eye can reach, those majestic woods on
the brow of the distant hills, and those ex-
tensive and valuable mines belong to
me ; yonder powerful steam engine ob-
tains the produce of my mines; and
those ships convey my wealth to other
parts of the kingdom.” “ VVell, my
lord,” replied the gentleman, “do you
see yonder little hovel that seems but a.
speck in your estate? there dwells a
poor woman who can say more than all
this, for she can say, ‘Christ is mine.’
In a very few years your lordship’s pos-
sessions will be confined within the
scanty limits of a tomb; but she will
then have entered on a far nobler inhe-
ritance than your lordship now possesses
—an inheritance incorruptible, unde-
filed, and that fadeth not away, reserved
in heaven for those who are kept by the
power of God through faith unto salva
tion.”
(g) CHOOSING AFFLICTION.-—
The Rev. H.Venn once told his children,
that he would take them to see one of
the most interesting sights in the world.
He would not tell them what it was;
but in the evening led them to a miser-
able hovel, whose ruinous walls and
broken windows showed an extreme de-
gree of poverty and Want. “ Now,”
said he, “ my dear children, can any
one that lives in such a wretched habi-
tation as this be happy? Yet this is
not all ; a poor young man lies there on
a miserable straw bed, dying of disease,


739
374, 375
RIDICU LE.

at the age of nineteen, consumed with
fever, and afflicted with nine painful
ulcers.” “How wretched!” they all
exclaimed. He then led them into the
cottage, and addressing the poor dying
young man, said, “ Abraham Midwood,
I have brought my children here to show
them that it is possible to be happy in a
state of disease, and poverty, and want:
now, tell them if it is not so.” The
dying youth, with a sweet'smile, replied,
“ Oh! yes, sir; I would not change
my state with that of the richest person
on earth, who has not those views which
I have. Blessed be God! I have agood
hope, through Christ, of being admitted
into those blessed regions where Lazarus
now dwells, having long forgotten all
his sorrows and miseries. Sir, this is
nothing to bear whilst the presence of
God cheers my soul, and whilst I can
have access to him, by constant prayer,
through faith in Jesus. Indeed, sir, I
am truly happy, and I trust to be happy
through eternity; and I every hour
thank God, who has brought me from
a state of darkness into marvelous light,
and has given me to enjoy the unsearch-
able riches of his race.”
(It) CECIL’S RICH HEARER.-—
Mr. Cecil had a rich hearer, who, when
ayoung man had solicited his advice,
but who had not, for some time, had an
interview with him. Mr. C. one day
went to his house on horseback, being
unable to walk, and, after the usual sa-
lutations, adressed him thus :——“I un-
derstand you are very dangerously sit-
uated !” Here he paused, and his
friend replied, “I am not aware of it,
sir.” “I thought it was probable you
were not; and thereforel have called
on you. I hear you are getting rich;
take care, for it is the road by which

the devil leads thotsands to destruction !"
This was spoken with such solemnity
and earnestness, that it made a deep and
lasting impression.
(2') FULLER’S QUESTION .-
“ This morning,” says Mr. Fuller, “ I
have read another of Edwards’ sermons,
on God the Christz'an’s Portion, from
Psalm lxxiii. 25. The latterpart comes
very close, and I feel myself at a less
what to judge as to God’s being my
chief good. He asks, whether we had
rather live in this world rich and with-
out God, or poor and with him? Per-
haps I should not be so much at a loss
to decide this question as another ; name.
ly, had I rather be rich in this world,
and enjoy but little of God ; or poor and
enjoy much of God’.2 I am confident
the practice of great numbers of pro-
fessing Christians declares that they
prefer the former ; and in some in-
stances I feel guilty of the same thing.”
(j) “POSSESSING ALL
THIN GS.’ ’--A lady in England, more
than seventy years of age, who had long
been known as an “Israelite indeed,”
was called, in the providence of God,
to pass her last days in a poor-house.
She was visited one day by a Wes.
leyan minister ; and while in conversa.
tion with her on the comforts, prospects,
and rewards of religion, he saw an un-
usual lustre beaming from her counte-
nance, and the calmness of Christian
triumph glistening in her eye. Ad-
dressing her by name, he said, “Will
you tell me what thought it was that
passed through your mind, which was
the cause of your appearing so joyful ’!’
The reply of the “old disciple” was
“ Oh ! sir, I was just t/tinking what a
change it will be from the POOR-HOUSE T0
HEAVEN!”
375. RIDICULE.
(a) LAUGHED OUT OF RELI-
GION.—A poor man, who had heard
the preaching of the Gospel, and to
whom it had been greatly blessed, was
the subject of much profane jesting and
ridicule among his fellow workmen and
neighbors. 01. being asked if these
daily persecutions did not sometimes
make him ready to give up his profes-
sion‘of attachment to Divine truth, he
replied, “ No ; I recollect that our good
minister once said in his sermon, that if
we were so foolish as to permit such people
to laugh us out of our religion, till at
740
ROBBERS—ROBBERY.
375, 376

last we dropped into hell, they could
not laugh us out again.”
(b) LANDLADY’S GIFT TO AD-
MIRAL COLPOYS.--Admiral Col-
poys. who rose to that high station
as the effect of his meritorious exer-
tions, used to be fond of relating, that
on first leaving gn humble lodging to
ioin his ship, as a midshipman, his
landlady presented him with a Bible and

a guinea, saying, “ God bless you, and
prosper you, my lad; and as long as
you live, never suffer yourself to be
laughed out of your money or your
prayers.” The young sailor carefully
followed this advice through life, and
had reason to rejoice that he did so;
while thousands have unavailingly re-
gretted that they pursued a different
course.
376. ROBBERS-ROBBERY.
(a) ROBBERY ITS OWN PUN-
ISHMENT.-—The only sailor who per-
ished in the Kent Indiaman was pres-
ent in the hold very shortly after the
commencement of the fire which des-
troyed the vessel, when, availing him-
self of the confusion, he hastened to
the cabin of the second mate, forced
open a desk, and took from thence four
hundred sovereigns, which he rolled up
in a handkerchief, and tied round his
waist; but in attempting to leap into
one of the boats, he fell short, and the
weight of his spoils caused him imme-
diately to sink! Unhappy sailor! of
what avail were his four hundred sove-
reigns when he lifted up his eyes in an
eternal world, and stood before the right-
eous Judge as a self -convicted robber’.l
What if he had gained the whole world,
and could have put it round him’.2 It
would only have sunk him deeper and
quicker into the bottomless pit. How
many millions of immortal souls have
gone down to this abyss, loaded with
ill-gotten wealth !
(b) WARNING TO YOUTH.-—
The St. Louis Reveille contains an ac-
count of the death of a young man by
the name of Leak, who, although only
twenty-two years of age, had made
himself notorious in crime. He was
arrested for robbing a store, having
been betrayed by one of his compan-
Ions in crime. He plead his own case
before the jury, and besought them to
deal lightly with him, for he was both
young in years and in the knowledge
of crime. The jury leaned to the side
of mewzy, and instead of ten, alloted
nim four years in the state penitentiary.

A struggle now commenced i: the fel-
on’_s heart which finally ended ;n sui-
CICAQ.
Nashville, the seat of the state pris.
on, was the home of his childhood, and
his aged mother lived there, highly res-
pected; his brother and sisters, also,
the former being a respectable mer-
chant of that city. He spoke frequent-
ly on the trip up, of how hard it would
be for him to pass his mother’s door in
chains, on his way to prison, and said
he would rather die than undergo the
ignominy. The companions of his
childhood, his schoolmates, he said,
would gather about him and-look upon
his wretched felon carcass until their
eyes would burn into his heart. To
his wretchedness of mind was added
sickness of body, and at length, when
eight miles above Cairo, on the Ohio
river, the miserable felon, bearing the
manacle badges of his wickedness upon
his person, plunged into the river and
ended his guilty career. “Truly the
way of the transgressor is hard.”
(c) ROBBER SON RECLAIMED.
—The following is related of Mr. John
Welsh. He was, it is said, a most
hopeless and extravagant youth. He
frequently played truant ; and, at last,
while very young, he left his studies,
and his father’s house, and went and
joined himself to the thieves on the
borders of the then two kingdoms, who
lived by robbery and plunder. After
he had suffered many hardships among
them, and, like the prodigal in the gos-
pel, began to be in great misery, and
no man gave unto him, he took the
prodigal’s resolution to return home to
741
3.7
RULE, GOLDEN, THE.

his father’s house. He made Dumfries
I11 his way homeward, where lived a
Mrs. Forgath, his father’s cousin: he
earnestly entreated her to bring about a
reconciliation for him with his father.
He had not been long with this
lady, before his father came, providen-
tially, to visit her ; to whom, after con-
versing a while, she said, “ Cousin, have
you heard any thing of your son
John '2” “Oh! cruel woman!” said
the father, with grief, “how can you
mention his name to me’.2 The first
news I expect to hear of him, is, that
he is hanged for a thief.” She an-
swered, “Many a profligate boy has
become a virtuous man ;” and endeav-
ored to comfort him, but in vain. At
length, he asked her if she knew
whether his lost son was yet living.
She answered, “Yes, he is yet alive,
and I hope he will make a better man
than he was a boy,” at the same time
she introduced him to his father. The

_ _-v--1-_|--_| ~
youth came in weeping, and threw him‘
self at his father’s feet, beseeching him,
for Christ’s sake, to pardon his misbe-
havior, and earnestly, and with much
apparent sincerity, promising future
amendment. His father reproached and
threatened him; but, upon the impor-
tunities of Mrs. For ath, he was per-
suaded to a reconcéation. He then
besought his father to send him to col-
lege, saying, “ that if ever he misbe-
haved again, he would be content that
his father should disclaim him forever.”
His father granted him his request;
and, after a little time spent there, not
only a thorough reformation, but a say
ing conversion, took place in him ; and
he was so diligent a student, that, in
much less time than could be expected,
he went through all his necessary stud-
ies, and entered early into the ministry.
He became one of the most extraordi-
nary characters of his age.
377. RULE, GOLDEN, THE.
ta) GOLDEN RULE VIOLA- had said nothing in commendation of it
TED.—-The manner in which some But on reading some of your remarks I
professed Christians violate the golden fear I have done wrong. Pray what is
rule in their business transactions, is
deeply to be regretted as evidence of
the bluntness of their moral perceptions, moral wrong.
your opinion '2” The editor promptly
replies, “My opinion is that you did a
You have not done to
as a disgrace to the cause of true reli- I another what you would have done to
gion, and a stumbling-block to the im-
penitent. The correspondent of a cer-
tain religious journal says, “I passed
an American eagle and a Spanish doub-
loon to a countryman, for value re-
ceived, as I had given full value for
them. True, I had heard from a gen-
tleman broker, that they were of suspi-
cious character, and probably base met-
al merely baptized in gold. But as I
did not certainly know that they were
base coi as, ought I to have offered them
to persons who were not judges of them,
without any intimation of the report’! I
also passed in silence a $50 bank note
of doubtful character, to a farmer,
which I had unsuspectingly received in
a fair sale of the necessaries of life;
but not knowing it to be a counterfeit, I
did not altogether condemn myself, as I
you 11” And the editor’s reply is the
heartfelt response of every enlightened,
conscientious Christian, who will, for a
moment, make the case of the “ coun-
I tryman” and “farmer,” who were de-
ceived by the money, their own.
Take another instance of the viola-
tion of the same precept. “I heard,”
says a Western Preacher, “ a conversa-
tion between a father and a son, both
members of the same church, in the
presence too of both their families.
“My son,” said he, “ you got cheated
in that horse: he stumbles wretchedly,
and will certainly go blind. You
ought to sell him the first opportunity.”
“Yes, father, I was deceived: but he
is a good looking horse ; and Ithink by
putting him into the hands of your auc-
tioneer I can sell him for cost.” “ You
742
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.
377, 378

ought then to do it soon,” replied his
father, “ or perhaps you will lose by
the transaction.” “ I will send him to
town to-morrow, and let the bidder do
as I did—-trust to his own eyes and
judgment, for I will not warrant him.”
“ You ought not to warrant him for two
reasons——first, because the thing is
wrong in itself; and in the next place,
you might be made to pay the damages.
Honesty is the best policy, my son.
Remember that.” Strange that pro-
fessed Christians should talk in this
manner! F luently and conscientiously
passing a cheat upon themselves, and
acting the villain under the guise of hen-
esty and fair dealing. How differs such a
transaction in principle from robbery’.2
Touch such a transaction with the gel-
den rule, and its true character and de-
formity will be at once apparent, like
those of Satan at the touch of Ithuriel’s
spear.

(Z2) TEDYNSCUNG AND HIS
FRIEND.——Tedynscung was a cele-
brated chief among the Delaware In-
dians of North America, about 1780.
The efforts of the Christian missiona-
ries had been the means of difihsing
much scriptural knowledge among the
native Indians, and their doctrines were
frequently the subject of conversation
among them. One evening, Tedyn-
scung was sitting by the fireside of his
friend, who mentioned the golden rule
to him as very excellent, “ For one
man to do to another as he would the
other should do to him I” “It is im-
possible; it cannot be done,” said the
Indian chief. After smoking his pipe,
and musing for about a quarter of an
hour, Tedynscung again gave his opin-
ion, and said, “Brother, I have been
thoughtful on what you told me. If
the great Spirit that made man would
give him a new heart, he could do so
as you say, but not else.”
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH.
378. Physical Benefits to Domestic Ani-
lnals.
(a.) THE DROVERS AND
THEIR SHEEP.—-Two neighbors in
the state of N ew-York, each with a
drove of sheep, started on the same day
for a distant market. One started sev-
eral hours before the other, and travel-
ed uniformly every day. The other
rested every Sabbath. Yet he arrived
at the market first, with his flock in a
better condition than that of the other.
In giving an account of it, he said that
he drove his sheep on Monday about
seventeen miles, on Tuesday not over
sixteen, and so lessening each day, till
on Saturday he drove them only about
eleven miles. But on Monday, after
resting on the Sabbath, they would
travel again seventeen miles, and so on
each week. But his neighbor’s sheep,
which were not allowed to rest on the
Sabbath, before they arrived at the mar-
ket, could not travel without injury
more than six or eight miles in a day.

([2) WAY TO EXPEDITION._.
At a tavern in Pennsylvania, a man_
who had arrived the evening before,
was asked on Sabbath morning whether
he intended to pursue his journey on
that day. He answered, “No.” He
was asked, “ Why not T’ “ Because,”
said he, “I am on a long journey, and
wish to perform it as soon as I can. I
have long been accustomed to travel on
horseback, and have found that, if I
stop on the Sabbath, my horse will
travel farther during the week than if I
do not.”
(0) THE VICTORIOUS TRAV-
ELER.—-A gentleman started from
Connecticut with his family for Ohio.
He was on the read about four weeks,
and rested every Sabbath. From morn-
ing to night others, journeying the same
way, were passing by. Before the close
of the week he passed them. Those
who went by late on the Sabbath he
passed on Monday ; those who went by
a little earlier he passed on Tuesday ;
and so on, till before the next Sabbath
he had passed them all. His horses
were no better than theirs, nor were
743
378, 379
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.
they better fed. But having had the
benefit of resting on the Sabbath, ac-
cording to the command of God and the
law of nature, they could out-travel
those who had violated that law.
(cl) MANUFACTURERS AND
THEIR TEAMS.--A manufacturing
company, which had been acc.1stomed
‘o carry their goods to market with
their own teams, kept them employed
seven days in a week, as that was the
time in which they could go to the mar-
ket and return. But by permitting the
teams to rest on the Sabbath, they found
that they could drive them the same
distance in six days, that they formerly
did in seven, and with the same keep-
ing preserve them in better order.
(e) THE TEAMSTER AND HIS
HORSES.—A gentleman in Vermont,
who was in the habit of driving his
horses twelve miles a day seven days in
aweek, afterwards changed his practice,
and drove them but six days, allowing
them to rest one. He then found that, with
the same keeping, he could drive them
fifteen miles a day, and preserve them
in as good order as before. So that a
man may rest on the Sabbath, and let
his horses rest, yet promote the benefit
of both, and be in all respects the
ainer.
EXPERIMENT WITH CAT-
TLE.—-A number of men started to-
gether from Ohio, with droves of cattle
for Philadelphia. They had often been
before, and had been accustomed to drive
on the Sabbath as on other days. One had
now changed his views as to the pro-
propriety of traveling on that day. On
Saturday he inquired for pastures.
His associates wondered that so shrewd
a man should think of consuming so
great a portion of his profits by stopping
with such a drove a whole day. He
stopped, however, and kept the Sabbath.
They, thinking that they could not af-
ford to do so, went on. On Monday he
started again. In the course of the
week he passed them, arrived first in
the market, and sold his cattle to great
advantage. So im Jressed were the
others with the benefits of thus keeping
the Sabbath, that ever afterwards they
followed his example

879. Physical Benefits to Man.
(a) PHYSICIANS OF ROCHES-
TER.——Dr. F. Backus and seven other
respectable physicians of Rochester,
New-York, have given the following
testimony: “Having most of us lived
on the Erie Canal since its completion,
we have uniformly witnessed the same
deteriorating effects of seven days’ work-
ing upon the physical constitution, both
of man and beast, as have been so ably
depicted by Dr. Farre.” They are
more sickly than others, bring upon
themselves, in great numbers, a prema-
ture old age, and sink to an untimely
grave.
(b) EXPERIMENT IN A MILL.
—-The experiment was tried in a large
flouring establishment. For a number
of years they worked the mills seven
days in a week. The superintendent
was then changed. He ordered all the
works to be stopped at eleven o’clock on
Saturday night, and to start none of
them till one o’clock on Monday morn-
ing, thus allowing a full Sabbath every
week. And the same men, during the
year, actually ground thousands of
bushels more than had ever been
ground, in a single year, in that estab-
lishment before. The men, having
been permitted to cleanse themselves,
put on their best apparel, rest from
worldly business, go with their families
to the house of God, and devote the
Sabbath to its appropriate duties, were
more healthy, moral, punctual and dili-
gent. They lost less time in drinking,
dissipation and quarrels. They were
more clear-headed and whole-hearted,
knew better how to do things, and were
more disposed to do them in the right
way.
(0) RESULT OF EXPERIENCE.
——ln the year 1839 a committee was
appointed in the legislature of Pennsyl-
vania, who made a report with regard
to the employment of laborers on tl eir
canals. In that report, they say, in
reference to those who had petitioned
against the employment of the work-
men on the Sabbath, “ They assert, as
the result of their experience, that both
man and beast can do more work b}
74%
BENEFITS OF
THE SABBATH.
379
resting one day in seven, than by work-
ing on the whole seven.” They then
add, “ Your committee feel free to con-
fess, that their own experience as busi-
ness men, farmers, or legislators, cor-
responds with the assertion.”
(d) EXPERIMENT IN THE
LAST WAR.—An experiment was
tried on the northern frontier of the Uni-
ted States, during the last war. When
building vessels, making roads, and per-
forming other laborious services, the
commander stated that it was not prof-
itable to employ the men on the Sabbath,
for it was found that they could not, in
the course of the week, do as much
work.
(e) BRITISH HOUSE OF COM-
MON S.--In the year 1832, the British
House of Commons appointed a commit-
tee to investigate the effects of labor-
ing seven days in a week, compared
with those of laboring only six, and
resting one. That committee consisted
of Sir Andrew Agnew, Sir Robert Peel,
Sir Robert Inglis, Sir Thomas Baring,
Sir George Murray, F owell Buxton,
Lord Morpeth, Lord Ashley, Lord Vis-
count Sandon, and twenty other mem-
bers of Parliament. They examined
a great number of witnesses, of various
professions and employments. Among
them was John Richard Farre, M. D.,
of London ; of whom they speak as “an
acute and experienced physician.”
The following is the testimony:
“I have practised as a physician be-
tween thirty and forty years ; and dur-
ing the early part of my life, as the
physician of a public medical institu-
tion. I had charge of the poor in one
of the most populous districts of London.
I have had occasion to observe the ef-
fect of the observance and non-observ-
anee of the seventh day of rest during
this time. I have been in the habit,
during a great many years, of consi-
dering the uses of the Sabbath, and of
observing its abuses. The abuses are
chiefly manifested in labor and dissipa-
pation. l ts use, medically speaking, is
that of a day of rest.
“As a day of rest, I view it as a day
of compensation for the inadequate re-
storative power of the body under con-
tinued labor and excitement. A physi-

cian always has respect to the preser-
vation of the restorative power; because,
if once this be lost, his healing office is
at an end. A physician is anxious to
preserve the balance of circulation, as
necessary to the restorative power of
the body. The ordinary exertions of
man run down the circulation every day
of his life; and the first general law of
'nature, by which God prevents man
from destroying himself, is the alternat-
ing of day and night, that repose may
succeed action. But, although the
night apparently equalizes the circula-
tion, yet it does not sufficiently restore
its balance for the attainment of a long
life. Hence, one day in seven, by the
bounty of Providence, is thrown in as
a day of compensation, to perfect by its
repose the animal system.
“ I consider, therefore, that, in the
bountiful provision of Providence for
the preservation of human life, the sab-
batical appointment is not, as it has
been sometimes theologically viewed,
simply a precept partaking of the na-
ture of a political institution, but that it
is to be numbered amongst the natural
duties, if the preservation of life be ad- '
mitted to be a duty, and the premature
destruction of it a suicidal act.”
f) NEW HAVEN MEDICAL AS-
SOCIATION.—-At a regular meeting
of the New Haven Medical Association,
composed of twenty-five physicians,
among whom were the professors of the
Medical College, the following questions
were considered :
1. Is the position taken by Dr. Farre
in his testimony before the committee
of the British House of Commons, in
your view, correct’.2
2. Will men who labor but six days
in a week he more healthy and live
longer, other things being equal, than
those who labor seven ’!
3. Will they do more work, and do
it in a better manner '2
The vote on the above was unani-
mously in the afiirmative ; signed by Eli
Ives, chairman, and Pliny A. Jewett,
clerk.
(g) MINISTER OF MARINE IN
FRANCE.-—-The minister of marine in
France has addressed a letter to all the
maritime prefects, directing that no
745
379,380
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

workman, except in case of absolute
necessity, be employed in the govern-
ment dock-yards on the Sabbath. One
reason which he gives is, that men who
do not rest on the Sabbath do not per-
form as much labor during the week,
and, of course, that it is not profitable
to the state to have labor performed on
that day. Another reason is, that it is
useful to the state to promote among
the laboring classes the relzgious observ-
ance of the Sabbath.
(h) THOROUGH EXPERIMENT
WITH LABORERS.-—Nor is it true
that men who labor six days in a week,
and rest on one, are more healthy mere-
ly, and live longer than those who la-
bor seven ; but they do more work, and
in a better manner. The experiment
was tried in England upon two thou-
sand men. They were employed for
years, seven days in a week. To
render them contented in giving up
their right to the Sabbath, as a day of
rest, that birthright of the human family,
they paid them double wages on that
day, eight days’ wages for seven days’
work. But they could not keep them
healthy, nor make them moral. Nor
can men ever be made moral, or kept
most healthy in that way. Things went
badly, and they changed their course
—employed the workmen only six days
in a week, and allowed them to rest on
the Sabbath. The consequence was,
that they did more work than ever be-
fore. This, the superintendent said,
was owing to two causes, viz. : demor-
alization of the people under the first sys-
tem, and exhaustion Qf bodily strength,
which was visible to the most casual
observer. Such a course will always
demoralize men, and diminish their
strength.
880. Intellectual Benefits.
(a) TESTIMONY OF WILBER-
FORCE.——The celebrated Wilberforce
ascribes his continuance, for so long a
time, under such a pressure of cares
and labors, in no small degree, to his
conscientious and habitual observance
of the Sabbath. “O what a blessed
day,” he says, “ is the Sabbath, which
allows us a precious interval wherein to

a—- —_’
pause, to come out from the thickets of
worldly concerns, and give ourselves up
to heavenly and spiritual objects. Ob-
servation and my own experience have
convinced me that there is a special bless-
ing on a right employment ryf these inter-
vals. O, what a blessing is Sunday,
interposed between the waves of worldly
business, like the divine path of the Is-
raelites through Jordan. There is no-
thing in which I would recommend you
to be more strictly conscientious than in
keeping the Sabbath holy. By this I
mean not only abstaining from all un-
beconmng sports, and common business,
but from consuming time in frivolous
conversation, paying or receiving visits,
which, among relations, often leads to
a sad Waste of this precious day. I can
truly declare that to me the Sabbath law
been invaluable.” -
(b) MAKING BRIEFS ON SUN-
DAY.—The distinguished Dr. Wilw-on,
Pastor of the first Presbyterian Chi rch
in Philadelphia, for a number of y >ars
before he became a preacher of the gos-
pel, was an eminent lawyer in the *-tate
of Delaware. He was accustomed
when pressed with business, to make
out his briefs and prepare for his Mon-
day’s pleading on the Sabbath. But he
so uniformly failed, during the week, in
carrying out his Sunday plans, that it
arrested his attention. As a philoso-
pher, he inquired into the cause of 11s
uniform failure, and came to the conclu-
sion that it might be, and probably was
on account of his violation of tho Sab-
bath by employing it in seeula busi-
ness. He therefore, from that time,
abandoned the practice of doinbr any
thing for his clients on that day. The
difficulty ceased. His efforts on Mon-
day were as suceessful as on other days.
Such were the facts in his c~.se, and
many others have testified to similar
facts in their experience.
(c) TESTIMONY OF A I‘INAN.
CIER. - A distinguished financier,
charged with an immense amount of
property during the great pecuniary
pressure of 1836 and 1837, said, “I
should have been a dead man, had it
not been for the Sabbath. Obliged to
work from morning till night, through
the whole week, I felt on Saturday, es \
74'.’
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH.
380, 381

pecially Saturday afternoon, as if I must
have rest. It was like going into a
dense fog. Every thing looked dark
and gloomy, as if nothing could be
saved. I dismissed all, and kept the
Sabbath in the good old way. On Mon-
day it was all bright sunshine. I could
see through, and I got through. But
had it not been for the Sabbath, I have
no doubt I should have been in the
rave?’
(d) FRUITFUL CAUSE OF IN-
SAN I'I‘Y.—-A distinguished merchant,
who, for twenty years did a vast amount
of business, remarked to Dr. Edwards:
“Had it not been for the Sabbath,I
have no doubt I should have been a
maniac long ago.” This was mention-
ed in a company of merchants, when
one remarked, “ That -s the case exact-
ly with Mr. He was one of our
greatest importers. He used to say
that the Sabbath was the best day in
the week to plan successful voyages;
showing that his mind had no Sabbath.
He has been in the Insane Hospital for
years, and will probably die there.”
Many men are there, or in the maniac’ s
grave, because they had no Sabbath.
They broke a law of nature, and of na-
ture’s God, and found “the way of the
transgressor to be hard.” Such cases
are so numerous that a British writer
remarks, “ We never knew a man work
seven days in a week who did not kill
himself or kill his mind.”
(e) DR. SEWALL’S ()PINION.-
Thomas Sewall, M. D., professor of pa-
thology and the practice of medicine in
the Columbian College, Washington, D.
C., remarks: “While I consider it the
more important design of the institution
of the Sabbath to assist in religious de-
votion, and advance men’s spiritual wel-
fare, I have long held the opinion that
one of its chief benefits has reference to
his physical and intellectual constitution ;
affording him, as it does, one day in se-
ven for the renovation of his exhausted
energies of body and mind; a propor-
tion of time small enough, according to
the results of my observation, for the ac-
complishment of this object. I have re-
marked, as a general fact, that those to
whom the Sabbath brings the most entire
test from their habitual labors, perform

the secular duties of the week more
vigorously, and better than those who
continue them without intermission. I
have no hesitation in declaring it as my
opinion, that if the Sabbath were univer-
sally observed as a day of devotion, and
of rest from secular occupations, far
more work of body and mind would be ac-
complished, and be better done; more
health would be enjoyed, with more if
wealth and independence, and we should
have far less of crime, and poverty and
sufering. ’ ’
381. Providential Benefits.
(a) THE CONSCIENTIOUS ES-
QUIMAUX.—ln December, says Mr.
Barsoe, the Missionary, a pleasing cir-
cumstance . ccurred ; it showed the re-
verence of our Esquimaux for the Lord’s
day. Owing to the state of the weather
during the preceding month, but few
seals had been taken; and Saturday,
the second of December, was the first
day on which the state of the ice per-
mitted our people to go out on the seal-
hunt. Considering the great uncertain-
ty which ever attends this occupation,
the inducement to pursue it on the fol-
lowing day, in the hope of securing a
better provision for their families, was
any thing but slight. I/Ve were, there-
fore, not a little pleased to learn that a
meeting of fathers of families had been
convened on the Saturday evening, and
that it had been resolved that they would
none of them go out on the ensuing day
of the Lord, but would spend it iii a
manner becoming the disciples of Christ,
who were invited thankfully to comme-
morate h's coming into the world to save
sinners. They expressed their belief
that their Heavenly Father was able to
grant them, on Monday, a sutiiciency
for the supply of their wants. The
meeting they closed with the singing of
some verses, during which they felt the
presence and peace of their Lord and
Savior. Their confidence in God was
not put to shame. On Monday the
weather proved so favorable that they
captured no fewer than one hundred
seals; but in the course of the following
night the frost became so intense as to
close all the bays and inlets, and to pro-
747
381
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

clude any further attempts to take
seals.
(12) THE CONVERTED BAKER.
-—A baker, who had long been accus-
tomed to attend to his business on the
Lord’s day, having had his attention
drawn to religion, and having felt its
power, became desirous of associating
with a body of Christians 5 who, however,
declined to receive him, unless he relin-
quished baking on the Sabbath. The
struggle in his mind was long and painful,
as a considerable part of the support of his
family was derived from his occupation
on that day,, but he at length yielded to
the claims of duty ; and, by refusing to
serve his customers on the Lord’s day,
gave them offence, and became reduced
to great poverty. His Christian friends
urged him to persevere, assuring him
that God Would not forsake him. He
was enabled to do so, and Providence
interposed in his behalf. His customers
gradually returned to him, and at length
he was favored with a larger share of
business than had ever before fallen to
his lot.
(0) STATEMENT OF CAPTAIN
SCORESBY.-—“ It is a little remark-
able,” says Captain Scoresby, in his
voyage to Greenland, “ that during the
whole of this voyage, no circumstance
ever occurred to prevent us eng,agin
in public Worship on the Sabbath day.
In a few instances, the hour of worship
could not be easily kept, but opportunity
was always found of having each of the
services in succession on a plan adopted
at the commencement of the voyage.
And it is worthy of observation, that in no
instance, when on fishing stations, was our
refraining from the ordinarfyr duties of our
profession on the Sunday ever supposed,
eventually, to have been a loss to us 5 for
We in general found, that, if others who
were less regardful, or had not the same
view of tile oongatory 1'18.tllI'C or ..;e com-
mand respecting the Sabbath day, suc-
ceeded in their endeavors to promote the
success of the voyage, we seldom failed to
procure a decided advantage in the suc-
ceeding week. Independently, indeed, of
the divine blessing on honoring the Sab-
bath day, Ifound that the restraint put
upon the natural inclinations of the men
for pursuing the fishery at all opportuni-

tics, acted with some advantage, by prov
ing an extraordinary stimulus to their ex-
ertions when they were next sent out after
whales. I/Vere it not out of place here, I
could relate several instances in which,
after our refraining to fish upon the Sab-
bath, while others were thus successfully
employed, our subsequent labors suc-
ceeded under circumstances so s‘riking,
that there was not,I believe, a man in the
ship who did not consider it the effect of
the divine blessing.”
((1) THE SHOP-KEEPER AND
HER CUSTOMERS —Mrs. Sarah
Thorp, of Buckingham, (Engl.,) was
left a widow with four small children,
and with nothing to support herself and
them but the profits of small chandler’s
shop, an annuity of ten pounds per an-
num, left to poor widows, and making
a little lace. While in this state, a
Mr. Cooper came to the church, and
sounded an alarm to formal professors,
moralists, and the profane. Mrs. Thorp
soon became convinced of the impro-
priety of keeping her shop open on the
Lord’ s day, and determined at all events
to shut it up, and told her customers, in
the week preceding, of her intention,
and begged of them to come for what
they wanted on the Saturday. At first
they took very little notice of it, but
went on Sunday as usual ; but Mrs.
Thorp shut herself in a back room, and
paid no attention to the door. The en-
suing week they came again, and were
very much displeased, saying they must
have victuals on Sunday as well as on
the other days; and if they could not
be served by her they would go where
they could. She said she should be sorry
to lose their custom, but she had served
on the Lord’s day too long. Many of
her customers left her, and, for a time,
she was much straitened in her circum-
stances ; but this did not continue : the
Mord blessed her business with increase,
so that in a little time she took the house
adjoining to her own, keeping the shop
for her increasing stock, as before this she
had lived in the shop. Finding her busi-
ness still increase, she was enabled to
send to London for goods, which she had
hitherto taken from a superior shop in
the town. After this, she went to the
gentleman of whom she had received
748
'take not, was rice.
BENEFITS OI THE SABBATH.
381
her annuity, and told him the Lord had
so blessed her in her circumstances,
‘hat she had now no need of it, and
begged he would confer it on some one
who was in greater necessity. The
Lord still continued to bless her; she
at length bought the house and shop,
and lived comfortably in them the re-
mainder of her days.
(e) THREE SHIPHOLDERS.-—-
“ Several years ago,” says a correspon-
dent of the N. York Evangelist, “there
lived in one of our seaports, A. B. and
C., all of whom were owners of mer-
chant vessels. Each of these men load-
ed a ship at the same time, which was
to go first to Egypt, and then to the Bal-
tic, ' one of the Russian ports. All
being loaded, they waited for a favora-
ble wind. The harbor was so situated
that there was no egress for ships except
the wind blew in a particular direction.
On Sabbath morning the wind was fair.
The masters of the vessels went to their
respective owners for sailing orders.
A. and B. immediately had their ships
put to sea; but C. told the master that
he must remain in port till the next day.
Before Monday morning the wind had
changed, and remained contrary till the
next Sunday, when it again came round
fair. The master of the vessel again
repaired to the house of C. to procure
the ship’s papers, and sailing orders.
But, to his astonishment, C. remarked
that his ship must not leave port on the
Sabbath. The captain attempted to rea-
son the point with him, but all in vain.
He said if his ship never sailed it should
not put to sea on the Lord’s day. He
was willing to trust in Divine Provi-
dence. Some time during the follow-
ing week the ship sailed. It arrived in
Egypt just as the ships of A. and B.
Were about to sail for the Baltic. In
the meantime information had circula-
ted through the country that American
vessels were in port, wishing to sell
their cargoes, and purchase a certain
kind of their produce, which, if I mis-
The desired article
was brought in such abundance that the
market was glutted by the time C.’s
Ship arrived. In consequence of this
his cargo was sold at an advanced price,
and his ship loaded at a much better

—-
rate than the others. C.’s vessel then
proceeded on her voyage up the Baltic
The ships were to dispose of their rice-
in the Russian port, and load for home
with iron. C.’s ship arrived in the Bat-
tic after those of A. and B. had pur-
chased their freight, and nearly loaded.
Fortune, or to speak more properly,
Providence operated hcre much as it did
in the Mediterranean. Abundance of
iron was brought to market, and there
were enough purchasers for the rice.
All these ships reached America about
the same time, that of C. having cleaied
as much by the voyage as both the oth-
ers. Thus C. found by experience, that
“ in keeping God’s commands there is
great reward,” even in this world.
TI-IE HIDE TRADERS AI\D
THE SABBATH.—I was in command
of a vessel, says Capt. S., of 'V
Mass., engaged in the Hide trade, be—
tween N—-— and a port in Brazil. In
performing one of those voyages, several
occurrences took place stt ictly providen-
tial, and illustrative of the benefits to be
derived from a concientious regard to
the Sabbath.
The custom of the Brazilian port,
was to load vessels on the Sabbath.
This labor was performed by gangs of
negroes, under the direction of sieve-
dores. These stevedores were few in
number; and, in times of great hurry
of business, in order to an equitable di-
vision of their services, the vessels were
accustomed to take their turns in the
order in which they were reported as
ready to receive cargo. If, when the
time came round tbr a particular vessel
to load, she was not ready, her name
was transferred to the bottom of the
list. It was my lot to experience some
of the effects of this custom.
My turn came to load. The work
commenced and continued till Saturday
night, when I ordered the hatches closed,
and forbid any work being done on
board till Monday morning. The ste-
vedore and his gang, muttering curses,
left the vessel, threatening to do no
more work on board.
Monday came. I made application
to the commission merchant, and was
informed that I had lost my turn in
loading, and must wait until it came

749
381
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

—— _ -_----n\—--—-. n q

—-_l\

round again, and that the steeedore and
his gang had gone on board another ves-
sel.
To aggravate my disappointment,I
found that a hostile feeling had sprung
up against me, and was participated in
by all around. The merchant was
studiously polite and respectful as be-
fore, but no longer familiar. Masters
of vessels avoided my society. Evil
disposed persons busied themselves in
doing me secret injuries, cutting my
rigging in the night time, and in other
ways showing their malice. Our de-
votional exercises, morning and evening,
were interrupted, and our efforts to do
good derided and mocked.
Thus things went on, until our turn
came round again ; when, there being
no other vessel ready to load, we were
left to do our work in our own way.
The loss of time, occasioned by the re-
fusal to load on the Sabbath, amounted
to several weeks; but after all was it
in fact a loss’.2 The result will show.
It was now Saturday night again, the
lading of the ship was completed, and
we were ready for sea.
The Sabbath dawned, and with it
came a fresh and fair wind. Shall we
improve it, and violate the day, and
that too after so many sacrifices to pro-
mote its sanctification’.Z It was not to
be thought of, and hoisting the Bethel
flag as an invitation for our shipmates
[O come on board, we spent the day in
devotional exercises. It was a happy
Sabbath to all on board.
Monday morning early we were un-
der sail for the lower harbor, several
miles distant. On our way, we passed
two brigs aground with lighters along side
discharging their hides in order to light-
en them and get them off. They left the
upper harbor on the Sabbath, and here
they were, and like to be until the next
fair wind had blown itself out. On
reaching the lower harbor we found to
our surprise, lying at anchor, upwards
of forty sail of shipping waiting for a
wind. Among them were all the ves-
sels that had cleared for the last month
or more, including every vessel that had
obtained an advantage over us in re-
spect‘. to leading.
We had new to obtain a pilot and get

to sea when the wind came fair and be-
fore it had spent itself. These were by
no means matters easy to be accom-
plished. Pilots were few, and vessels
many, and here, too, the principle of re-
tation was rigidly enfhrced. The
winds, meanwhile, when fair, were
short-lived and feeble, and the bar at
the entrance of the harbor, too danger-
ous to pass without a pilot.
But He who had sustained us through
previous trials for his name’s sake, did
not forsake us now. A pilot who had
been on a long visit to the interior, re-
turned to the sea-board and resumed
his duties on the very day we reached
the outer harbor, and presenting I“im-
self on board, offered to pilot us to sea.
Tuesday morning found us, with a
fair wind, a pilot on board, and under
way at day-light. VVe were the second
vessel over the bar, and among the first
to arrive in the United States.
The getting out of cargo, its expo-
sure and sale, were matters of no little
interest. We then found that “in keep-
ing the commandments of God there is
great reward.” Our cargo, owing to
the delay in getting it on board, received
unusual attention at our hands, and was
in perfect shipping order when stowed
away, and came out in the same good
condition.
The cargoes of the other vessels
came out very differently, with a loss
in some cases of 20, 30, and even 50
per cent. This loss was occasioned in
part by hurrying the hides on board in
the first instance without their being
thoroughly dried, in order to greater
dispatch, and in part to the unusual de-
tention of the vessels at the port of
lading. From these two causes combi-
ned, and the activity of the wevils that
took possession of the hides, and riddled
them through and through, several of
those voyages turned out splendid fail-
ures. \
(g) FOUR FISHING VESSELS.
-—Capt. Bourne states that about 1829,
he went out from Rhode Island in a
brig on a fishing voyage along the coast
of Labrador, with a crew of thirteen
men. Three other vessels, with larger
crews, from the same state, accompa-
nied him. When they arrived upon the
750
EXAMPLES OF THE CONSCIENTIVUS, ETC.
-. —-
ground, Captain B. determined that he
and his crew should sacredly regard
the Sabbath ; but the other crews prose-
cuted their employment on that day the
same as on others. After fishing with
them in company for two weeks, and
finding it in some respects quite disa-
greeable, he parted from them, and
went farther north, and fished in com-
pany with English vessels, who pursued
the same course respecting the Sabbath
day which he did himself. Trusting in
that Providence which favors those who
regard the true and right, he was not
disappointed. He and his men suc-
ceeded in getting a “full voyage,” cu-
red their fish and sold it some four
weeks sooner than any of the Sabbath-
breaking vessels that accompanied
them. What was better, Capt. B. and
his crew made more profits to a share
in less time, than those who profaned
the Sabbath and wore themselves out by
laboring hard seven days in the week.
(h) SABBATH-KEEPING FISH-
ERMEN.-—-A gentleman, says Dr. Ed-
wards, who resides in a fishing town,
and who has made extensive inquiries,
remarks, “ Those who fish on the Sab-
bath do not, ordinarily, take any more,
during the season, than those who keep
the Sabbath. They do not make more
money, or prosper better for this world.
One man followed fishing eight years.
The first four he fished on the Sabbath.
The next four he strictly kept the Sab-
bath, and is satisfied that it was for his
advantage in a temporal point of view.
Another man, who was accustomed for
some years to fish on the Sabbath, af-
terwards discontinued it, and found that
his profits were greater than before.
Another man testifies that, in the year
1827, he and his men took more fish by
far than any who were associated with
them, though he kept the Sabbath and
they did not. It was invariably his
practice to rest from Saturday till Mon-
day. Though it was an unfavorable
season for the fisheries, he was greatly
prospered in every way, and to such an
extent that many regarded his success
as almost miracultus.
Examples Me the above might be
multiplied to almost any extent. So
far as I can learn by diligent inqui ‘y,

381- 382
all who have left off fishing on the Sab-
bath, without an exception, think the
change has been for their temporal ad-
vantage.
(i) IMPORTANT TESTIMONY.
—A gentlemen, says Dr. Edwards, be-
longing to a fishing town, which sends
out more than two hundred vessels in a.
year, writes as follows : “ I think it
may safely be stated that those vessels
which have not fished on the Sabbath
have, taken together, met with more
than ordinary success. The vessel
whose earnings were the highest, the
last year and the year before, was one
on board which the Sabbath was kept
by refraining from labor, and by reli-
gious worship. There is one firm which
has had eight vessels in its employ this
season. Seven have fishec-. on ‘he Sab-
bath, and one has not. That one has
earned seven hundred dollars more than
the most successful of the six. There
are two other firms employing each
three vessels. Two out of the three,
in each case, have kept the Sabbath,
and in each case have earned more than
two-thirds of the profits.”
j SAD END OF SABBATH-
BREAKERS.——-A distinguished mer-
chant, in a large city, said to Dr. Edwards,
“ It is about thirty years since I came to
this city; and every man through this
whole range, who came down to his store,
or suffered his counting-room to be opened
on the Sabbath, has lost his property.
There is no need of breaking the Sab-
bath, and no benefit from it. W'e have
not had a vessel leave the harbor on the
Sabbath for more than twenty years.
It is altogether better to get them off on
a week day than on the Sabbath.” It
is better even for this world. And so
with all kinds of secular business. Men
may seem to gain for a time by the
profanation of the Sabbath ; but It does
not end well. Their disappointment,
even here, often comes suddenly.
38%. Examples of the Gomcientious, M.
(a) MATTHEW HALE’S EXAM.
PLE.—-The following declaration of
Sir Matthew Hale is an illustration of
this truth :
“Though my hands and my mind
751
582
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

a
nave been as full of secular business,
ooth before and after I was judge, as, it
may be, any man’s in England, yet I
never wanted time in six days to ripen
and fit myself for the business and em-
ployments I had to do, though I bor-
rowed not one minute from the Lord’s
day to prepare for it, by study or other-
wise. But, on the other hand, ifl had,
at any time, borrowed from this day
any time for my secular employment, I
found it did further me less than if I
had let it alone; and therefore, when
some years’ experience, upon a most
attentive and vigilant observation, had
given me this instruction, I grew per-
emptorily resolved never in this kind to
make a breach upon the Lord’s day,
which I have now strictly observed for
more than thirty years.”
(Z2) WASI-IINGTON’S EXAM-
PLE.—In one of the towns of Connec-
ticut, when the roads were extremely
bad, Washington, the President of the
United States, was overtaken one Sat-
urday night, not being able to reach the
village where he designed to rest on
the Sabbath. Next morning, about
sun-rise, his coach was harnessed, and
he was proceeding forwards to an inn,
near the place of worship which he
proposed to attend. A plain man, who
was an informing officer, came from a
cottage, and inquired of the coachman,
whether there was any urgent reason
for his traveling on the Lord’s day.
I he general, instead of resenting this
as impertinent rudeness, ordered the
driver to stop, and with great civility
explained the circumstances to the offi-
cer, commending him for his fidelity,
and assuring him that nothing was far-
ther from his intention than to treat
with disrespect the laws and usages of
Connecticut, relative to the Sabbath,
which met his most cordial approba-
tion. How many admirers of ‘Wash
1ngton might receive instruction and
reproof from his example !
(0) SENTENCE WORTHY OF
REMEMBRANCE.—A man who had
been accustomed to go with the cars
, on week days, informed his wife that
he had been requested to go with the
cars on the Sabbath. She replied, “I
.ake it for granted that you do not in-

tend to go.” Such was her confiden.>c
in her husband, that she took it for
granted that he would not do a wicked
thing for money. He told her that, if
he should not go. he might lose his
place; that he had no other employ-
ment, the times were hard, and he had
a family to support. “I know it,"
said she, “ but I hope you will not for
get that, if a man cannot support a fam.
ily by keeping the Sabbath, he certain
ly cannot support them by breaking it”
—a sentence which ought to be written
in letters of gold, and held up to the
view of all Christendom. “I am very
glad,” said the man, “that ou think
so. I think so myself. hat was
what I wanted——to see whether we
think alike.” He told the superintend-
ent that he liked his situation, and
should be very sorry to lose it, but that
he could not go with the mail on the
Sabbath ; that he wished to attend pub-
lic worship, and go with his children to
the Sabbath-school. He did not lose
his place. nor did he suffer in a pecuni-
ary point of view. He prospered more
than before, and lived to bear his testi-
mony, not only to the duty, but to the
utility, even for this world, of keeping
the Sabbath.
(cl) JOHN ADAMS AND THE
SABBATH.—-The elder John Adams,
while President of the United States, as
he was returning from the country to
his family in Boston, was interrupted
by a New England snow storm, which
effectually blocked up his way. He
was then at Andover, twenty miles from
Boston, where his family, as he had
learned, were waiting his arrival. Sab-
bath morning, the roads became for the
first time passable. On the question
of going to Boston that day, it was the
opinion of the clergyman of the place,
that the circumstances of his detention,
and the sickness of his family would
justify his traveling on the Sabbath.
His reply was, that the justifiable occa-
sion in this case would not prevent the
bad influence of his example on those
who might see him traveling on the
Sabbath, without knowing the cause.
He therefore decided to wait till Monday.
(e) HAPPY EFFECTS OF DE-
CISION.—-In one of the ports near the
752
EVILS 0F SABBATH-BREAKING.
383
W
southern shore of Lake Erie, the little
band of Christians were often disturbed
by the arrival and departure of steam-
boats and stages, especially by one
cniefly owned in the village, which left
the port regularly every Sabbath morn-
mg. The Presbyterian minister exert-
ed himself both in public and private to
enlighten the people, and show them the
duty of keeping the Sabbath holy ; and
publicly announced his determination to
do his best to have the Sabbath-breaker
as promptly disciplined as any other
smner.
One Saturday night about sunset, an
estimable member of his church called
to ask his advice. He said he had bu-
siness to a large amount that must be
done at the bank in B-+-, on Wednesday,
or a sad loss of credit and money would
be the consequence ; that he had cal-
culated to go in a boat on Friday ; but
storms had prevented it coming in, that
the stage would goon the Sabbath, and
not again till Tuesday ; that the boat
then in the harbor would go out in the
morning, but no other boat was expect-
ed for some days. And now what
should he do? He was not rich, and a
delay would cost him a serious loss.
He had subscribed beyond his means
(and such was the fact,) for building a
.meeting-house, and supporting the min-
ister, and economized in every way
possible to meet his debts. ‘
He was told that his case was a hard
one; but that the circumstances of it
would not justify him in breaking the
eommand of God; that he had better
lose a hundred dollars, or go on horse-
back, or even on foot to the next port
(50 miles) than break the Sabbath.
Seeing that his minister was inflexible,
he relinquished his Sabbath voyage,
called on several others in town in sim-
ilar circumstances, mostly professed
Christians, told them-his determination,
and invited them to go with him in ex-
tra stages early on Monday morning.
This they did, and had a pleasant and
profitable trip.
The steamboat lost by that single
circumstance upwards of one hundred
and twenty dollars. And the proprie-
. tors of the boat immediately changed
the day of leaving the port from Sunday


to Thursday. And the following year,
their boat was regularly laid by every‘-
Sabbath through the season.
EVILS OF SABBATH-BREAKING
38-3. Vice and Crime.
(a) ENGLISH CRIMINALS.-_.-\
gentleman in England, who was in the
habit, for more than twenty years, of
daily visiting convicts, states that, al-
most universally, when brought to a
sense of their condition, they lamented
their neglect of the Sabbath, and point-
ed to their violation of it as the princi-
pal cause of their ru... . That prepared
them for, and led them on, step by step,
to the commission of other crimes, and
finally to the commission of that which
brought them to the prison, and often to
the gallows. He has letters almost in-
numerable, he says, from others, prov-
ing the same thing, and that they consi-'
dered the violation of the Sabbaththe
great cause of their ruin. He has at-
tended three hundred and fifty at the
place of execution, when they were put
to death for their crimes. And nine
out often who were brought to a sense
of their condition attributed the greater
part of their departure from- God to their
neglect of the Sabbath.
(1)) TESTIMONY OF CRIMI.
NALS.—A gentleman, who was con-
versant with prisoners for more than
thirty years, stated, that he found in all
his experience, both with regard to
those who had been capitally convicted
and those who had not, that they refer-
red to the violation of the Sabbath as
the chief cause of their crimes; and
that this has been confirmed by all the
opportunities he has had of examining
prisoners. Not that this has been the
only cause of crime; but, like the use
of intoxicating liquors, it has greatly in-
creased public and private immorality,
and been the means, in a multitude of
cases, of premature death.
(0) A WARDEN’S TESTIMONY.
—A gentleman, who has had charge of
more than one hundred thousand pri-
soners, and has taken special pains to
ascertain the causes of their crimes-
48
' 753
3§3, 384
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

says, that he does not recollect a single
case of capital offence where the party
had not been a Sabbath-breaker. And
in many cases they assured him that
Sabbath-breaking was the first step in
their downward course. Indeed, he
says, with reference to prisoners of al~
classes, nineteen out of twenty have ne-
glected the Sabbath and other ordinances
of religion. And he has often me.
with prisoners about to expiate their
crimes by an ignominious death, who
earnestly enforced upon the survivors
the necessity of an observance of the
Sabbath, and ascribed their own course
of iniquity to a non-observance of that
day.
Says the keeper of one of the largest
prisons, “ Nine-tenths of our inmates are
those who did not value the Sabbath, and
were not in the habit of attending public
worship.”
(d) VOICE FROM AUBURN PRI-
SON.-—Of twelve hundred and thirty-
two convicts who had been committed
to the Auburn State Prison previously
to the year 1838, four hundred and
forty-seven had been watermen, either
boatmen or sailors—-men who, to a great
extent, had been kept at work on the
Sabbath, and thus deprived of the rest
and privileges of that day. Of those
twelve hundred and thirty-two convicts,
only twenty-six had conscientiously kept
the Sabbath.
(e) CRIMINALS IN MASS.
STATE PRISON .—Of one hundred
men admitted to the Massachusetts State
Prison in one year, eighty-nine had
lived in habitual violation of the Sab-
bath and neglect of public worship.
SUSPICIOUS APPRENTICE.
-—A distinguished merchant, long ac-
customed to extensive observation and
experience, and who had gained an un-
common knowledge of men, said,
“ When I see one of my apprentices or
clerks riding out on the Sabbath, on
Monday I dismiss him. Such an one
cannot be trusted.”
(g) MURDERERS IN NEW-
GATE.—-In the evening, says a writer
in an English Magazine, I stepped into
St. Sepulchre’s, Snow-hill. Dr. Rudge,
B. preacher of some note in the metro-
aolis, is evening lecturer hem and we

had a sermon from him in behalf of a
parochial charity, by which fifty-one
poor boys of the parish are supported
and educated. He took occasion to re-
mark, that his official situation (as
chaplain to Newgate) often led him
to hear the confessions of malefaetors,
under sentence of death; and that in
almost every instance, they ascribed
their ruin to their desertion of the house
of God, and the violation of the day of
rest.
384. Various Evils.
(a) LESSON FOR YOUNG
MEN.—Seven young men, in a town
in Massachusetts, started in the same
business nearly at the same time. Six
of them had some property or assistance
from their friends, and followed their busi-
ness seven days in a week. The other
had less property than either of the six.
He had less assistance from others,
and worked in his business only six
days in a week. He is now (1845)
the only man who has property, and has
not failed in his business.
(b) “THE FINGER OF GOD.”
—A man who ridiculed the idea that
God makes a difference in his provi-
dence between those who yield visible
obedience to his laws and those who do
not, had been engaged, on a certain
Sabbath, in gathering his crops into his
barn. The next week he had occasion to
take fire out into his field in order to burn
some brush. He left it, as he supposed,
safely, and went in to dinner. The wind
took the fire and carried it into his barn-
yard,which was filled with combustibles,
and, before he was aware of it, the flames
were bursting out of his barn. He
arose in amazement, saw that all
was lost, and fixing his eyes on the
curling flames, stood speechless. Then,
pointing to the rising column of fire, he
said, with a solemn emphasis, “That is
the finger of God.”
(0) FAILURES OF SABBATH-
BREAKERS.-—The following fact,
communicated by a respectable mer-
chant of N ew-York, is well worthy of
notice :--“I have particularly observ.
ed,” says the gentleman, “that those
merchants in N ew-York who have kept
their counting-rooms open on the Sab-
754
SABBATH-BREAKINC L] N NECESSARY.

"—v-—' v
bath day, during my residence there
(twenty-five years), have failed without
exception.”
In another part of the country an old
man remarked, “I can recollect more
than fifty years; but I cannot recollect
a case of a man, in this town, who was
accustomed to work on the Sabbath,
who did not fail or lose his property be-
fore he died.”
(d) WAY WHICH WORKS
BEST.-—-A distinguished mechanic, in
a part of the country where the Sab-
bath was disregarded, had been accus-
tomed for a time to keep his men at
work on that day. He was afterwards
at work for a man who regarded the
Sabbath, and who, on Saturday, was
anxious to know what he intended to
do; and therefore asked, “What do
you expect to do to-morrow ?” He
said, “I expect to stop, and keep the
Sabbath. Iused to work on the Sab-
bath, and often obtained higher wages
than on other days. ButI so often lost,
during the week, more than all Icould
gain on the Sabbath, that I gave it up
years ago. I have kept the Sabbath
since, and I find it works better.” It
does work better. And all who make
the experiment will, in due time, find it
30.
(e) MORE LOSSES THAN
GAINS.——“ I used,” said the master of
a vessel, “sometimes to work on the
Sabbath ; but something would happen,
by which I lost so much more than I
gained by working on the Sabbath, that
on one occasion, after having been at
work and met with some disaster, I
swore most profanely that I never would
work agai_., or suffer my men to work
on that day. And I never have.” He
finds it works better. He does not
swear now. He has induced many
others not to swear, and not to break
the Sabbath. He finds that in the keep-
ing of God’s commands there is great
reward. All who obey them will find
the same.
OLD MAN’S REMARK.--An
old gentleman in Boston remarked,
“ Men do not gain any thing by work-
ing on the Sabbath. Ican recollect
me who, when I was a boy, used to
roar‘ heir vessels d1 wn on the Long

384, 385
Wharf, and keep their men at work
irom morning to night on the Sabbath
day. But they have come to nothing.
Their children have come to nothing.
Depend upon it, men do not gain any
thing, in the end, by working on the
Sabbath.”
(g) THE PEDLER’S EXPERI-
ENCE.—-The Rev. Dr. Benedict, of
Plainfield, gave a writer in the Connec-
ticut Observer, the following account a
few years before his death.
Soon after he left college he had oc-
casion to travel southward as far as the
State of North Carolina. Being unac-
quainted with the way, he was desir-
ous of finding some one to accompany
him. A man who had frequently tra-
veled that road in the business of a
pedler, was about to commence the
journey, and informed him that it we .=ld
afford him pleasure to be his companion
and guide. They accordingly set out
together. At the close of the week
Mr. B. remarked to his companion, that
the journey thus far had been pleasant
to him ; “ but,” added he, “ I know not
how I shall do next week, provided you
intend to continue your journey on the
Sabbath. I cannot proceed till Mon
day, and if you leave me, I shall pro
pably lose my way.” The man re-
plied, “I have not traveled on the Sab-
bath for several years, though my busi-
ness leads me to take long journeys. I
formerly did; but I always lost more
than I gained by the practice. Some
hinderance or accident would occur on
the following week, which convinced
me that it is for my interest to rest up-
on the Sabbath.”
386. Sabbatli-breakiiig Unnecessary.
(a) SABBATH-KEEPING MILL-
OWNER.—At the second annual meet
ing of the Society for Promoting the
due Observance of the Lord’s Day, the
Rev. H. Stowell stated, that at a large
meeting, which was held at Manches-
ter, (Eng.,) to petition the legislature
on the better observance of the Sab-
bath, a leading spinner came forward,
and said, that there was nothing more
common than to hear from his brother
spinners and master manufacturers this
755
885
SABBATH, THE CHRISTIAN.

assertion, “ If you stop the mill altoge-
ther on Sunday, you must frequently
stop it on Monday also; because, if the
engine gets out of order, or any other
necessary repair be required, it must be
done on the Sunday, or the mill cannot
proceed on the Monday.” Now, all
this seems mighty plausible, said the
good man, but I can prove it to be false ;
for in my mill I never suffer a stroke to
be struck on the Sabbath ; and on one
occasion, my boiler had suffered a mis-
fortune on a Saturday, and I feared the
mill must stop on the Monday, but de-
termined to try what could be done. I
sent for a leading engineer, and said to
him, “Can you have the mill ready to
work on Monday morning?” “Yes,
certainly I can.” “But then,” said I,
" you mean to work on Sunday Cl” “ Of
course, sir.” “But,” said I, “you
shall not do it in my mill.” “ But I
cannot mend the boiler, if I do not,”
said he. I said, “I do not care, you
shall not work in my mill on Sunday.
Iwould rather that my mill stood the
whole of Monday, than that the Sab-
bath should be violated in it !” The
man said, “ You are different from all
other masters.” I said, “ My Bible,
not the conduct of others, is my rule ;
and you must do it without working on
Sunday, or I will try to get somebody
else.” This had the desired effect:
they set to work, and worked till twelve
o’clock on the Saturday night, and began
again at twelve o’clock on the Sunday
night; and the repairs were finished,
and the mill was in full work, at the
usual hour on Monday morning.
(b) THE DRUGGIST’S CONFES-
SION.——A chemist and druggist once
remarked to an American author,
“There was a time when I used to court
business on the Lord’s day ; and, shel-
tering myself under the alleged neces-
sity of being at hand to supply medi-
cine in case of illness, I employed my-
self in preparing a quantity of tinctures,
weighing packets of soda-water pow-
ders, and many such like things, not
because they were needed, but really
for the sake of saving time on other
days. At that time I did take more
money on the Sabbath than on any
Yther day, no a penny in a shilling of


which was for matters of real necessi-
ty. When I began to see it my duty
to act differently, and refused to sell, on
the Sabbath, perfumery, cigars, and
other matters, of mere luxury and fan-
cy, Ioffended a few of my customers,
and expected to find that I had seri-
ously injured my business; but in a
little time people fell into my arrange-
ments, and left off coming for such
things. I now enjoy my Sabbaths un-
disturbed, except in cases of real need,
to which, of course. I readily attend.
Every customer whom I would wish to
return has come back to me ; and, tak-
ing into account the saving of Sunday
expenses, which almost invariably coun-
tervail Sunday gains, I can say, with
humble thankfulness, that my prosperity
is now greater than ever.”
(0) THE PHYSICIAN AND HIS
PATIENTS:-—A distinguished practi-
tioner was harassed with calls on the
Sabbath—his Sabbaths were broken-~
he was detained from public worship;
it was a trial to him to be obliged to
serve his patrons so often and so con-
stantly on the Sabbath. At length he
adopted this expedient: he let it be
known that be viewed the Sabbath as
the Lord’s day-—sacred to his worship,
and that he must regard his calls upon
the sick on that day as works of neces-
sity and mercy, and that he should make
no chargr> for his services on that day.
He supposed that people would not call
on him in these circumstances, that
they would have too much goodness to
ask his services gratuitously, and that
he should have few calls and be free to
attend public worship. But to his sur-
prise it increased the evil ;—-if his ser-
vices were to be given on the Sabbath,
every body wanted him on the Sabbath;
and he was sent for here and there and
all about. There was no keeping the
Sabbath so. He accordingly changed
the tables, and gave out that he should
make a double charge for travels and ‘U7
sits on the Sabbath, and of course it
would cost as much again to be sick on
the Sabbath as any other day of the
week. This expedient had the desired
effect ; he could do up his business Sa-
turday night, and With the exception 0-
a few extreme cases, he could have hi.
‘T56
SABBAJTLBREAKERS.REPROVED.
385,386
_--—-
Sabbaths for religious uses, and regu-
larly attend public worship.
(d) THE MINISTER HIRING
HIS NElGHBOR.—-An eminent min-
ister in Wales, hearing of a neighbor
who followed his calling on the Lord’s
day, went and aked him why he broke
the Sabbath. The man replied, that he
was driven to it, by finding it hard work
to maintain his family. “ Will you at-
tend public worship,” said Mr. P., “if
I pay you a week day’s wages ?”
“ Yes, most gladly,” said the poor man.
He attended constantly, and received

his pay. After some time Mr. P. forgot
to send the money 5 and recollecting it,
called upon the man and said, “I am
in your debt.” “ No, sir,” he replied,
“you are not.” “How so,” said Mr.
P., “I have not paid you of late.”
“True,” answered the man, “butI
can now trust God; for I have found
that he can bless the work of six days
for the support of my family, just the
same as seven.” Ever after that he
strictly kept the Sabbath, and found
that in keeping God’s commands, there
is not only no loss, but great reward.
386. SABBATH-BREAKERS REPROVED.
(a) THE BLIND MAN AND HIS
V IFE.-—A pious man came into west-
‘rn New-York, from one of the New
I -ngland States. He was then perfectly
Llind. He had a near relative in this
country, who advised him to leave or
sell his farm, and come and reside with
him, to be taken care of. He then had
a wife of a similar religious character,
(since dead.) They accepted the pro-
posal of their relative and came; and,
coming from society highly refined and
moral, they were not prepared to en-
counter the disadvantages, and real
evils, which attended a society the re-
verse of this. Their first Sabbath in
“York state,” he declared, would ne-
ver be forgotten. No sooner was its
sacred dawn ushered in, than shooting
and other recreations commenced in the
immediate vicinity of his relative, while
the latter, being a merchant, dealt out
the whisky to all who applied. Con-
sequently the day was trampled on, and
its hallowed hours spent in dissipation.
Before breakfast, which was delayed to
receive a party of visitors from another
town, this devoted pair resolved to seek
some retreat from the noise and pro-
faneness, fled into an adjacent wood, the
wife taking the Bible and leading her
blind husband. Here, in the deep soli-
tude of the forest, they spent the first
Sabbath in fasting and prayer, and read
ing the VVord of God. After the Sab-
bath was past, they informed their rela-

tive, they could not live with him if
such were the manner of spending the
Sabbath, in amusements and dissipation.
They must have a house of their own.
He replied, that it would avail nothing,
for people would visit him on the Sab-
bath. Mr. D said firmly, that he
would risk their visits to him. Accord-
ingly a house was provided. The first
Sabbath in their new residence, two oi
their neighbors called to see them, one
of whom was a magistrate. His wife
was reading the Bible. After passing
the usual compliments, and providing
seats, she went on reading aloud. Be-
fore the chapter was finished, one of
the visitors left, and before the close of
the second, the other left. But he was
not troubled with visitors. He com-
menced visiting some of his ungodly
neighbors, and conversing with them on
the subject of religion, his wife leading
him. Soon they began to hold meetings
on the Sabbath, and many attended.
The wife read sermons, and the hus-
band prayed and exhorted. One wick-
ed man, whose shop was opposite the
meeting, set open his door, and worked
in order to disturb it. The next Sab-
bath, this same man came into the meet-
ing, fell on his knees, confessing his
sins and asking forgiveness. The Lord
came down by his Spirit on that wicked
neighborhood, and forty became the
members of a church, afterwards forrm
ed in that place, as the fruits ofthat re

757
B86, 387
SABBATH SC HOOLS.
vival. There was no regular preach-
ing in ‘me place previously, and it was
evidently through the instrumentality
of this blind man and his wife. That
church, the writer is acquainted with.
It is quite flourishing. They have
built a handsome house of worship, and
settled a minister to break unto them
the bread of life.
(32) MR. CRUDEN AND THE
GARDENER.-—-Mr. Cruden, during
the last year of his life, lived in terms
of the strictest intimacy with the Rev.
David Wilson, minister of the Presby-
terian congregation, Bow Lane, Lon-
don. The two friends were in the
habit of paying frequent visits to Mr.
Gordon, a pious nurseryman in the
neighborhood of the metropolis. One
evening Mr. Gordon informed Mr. Wil-
son, that a young Scottish gardener in
his employment, who usually attended
divine service at Bow Lane, sometimes
absented himself from public worship
without a sufficient cause, and was be-
sides rather indolent, desiring the minis-
SABBATH
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC.
387. In Promoting Religious Knowledge and
Intellectual Culture.
(a) THE “TENNESSEE TES-
TAMENT.”—ln the year 1831, a
young man from Tennessee, apparently
about twenty-two years of age, wan-
dered into a Sabbath school in the State
of Illinois, and after having gazed awhile
upon the objects that surrounded him,
seated himself near one of the classes
that was then engaged in recitation.
He was noticed by the superintendent
as apparently much interested in what
he heard, and at the close, was asked
whether he would like tojoin the school.
He replied promptly in the afiirmative.
Next Sabbath a place was assigned him
in one of the classes; and after he had
been there a few weeks, the superin-
tendent offered him a library book, but
he refused to take it, assigning as a rea

~_ “ -@-1-_
ter to admonish him. The young man
was accordingly called into the parlor,
and Mr. Wilson concluded a solemn ad-
dress with these words: “ Remember
the Sabbath day, to keep it holy."
“ Have you done, sir '2” said Mr. Cru-
den. “Yes,” replied Mr. VVilson.
“Then,” rejoined Mr. Cruden, “you
have forgotten one-half of the command-
ment: Six days shalt thou labor, and
do all thy work, &c.; for if a man does
not labor six days of the week, he is
not likely to rest properly on the se-
venth.”
(0) THE LOST MOTION.-A
motion was once made in the House of
Commons for raising and embodying
the militia, and, for the purpose “ sav-
ing time, to exercise them on the Sab—
bath. When the resolution was about
to pass, an old gentleman stood up, and
said, “Mr. Speaker, I have one objec-
tion to make to this; I believe in an
old book called the Bible.” The mem-
bers looked at one another, and the mo-
tion was dropped.
SCHOOLS.
son that he was compelled to labor nur-
ing the Week for his livelihood, that he
had little time for reading, and all he
could spare from his work he wished to
spend in reading his Testament. He
was then holding one in his hand, which
had been given him from the library;
and as he spoke of his Testament, his
countenance brightened, and he said,
with much apparent feeling, “ This
Testament is worth twenty Tennessee
Testaments.” The superintendent was
at first at a loss for his meaning ; but a
moment’s reflection made it obvious.
He had read the Testament in Tennes-
see, and loved it; but when he came to
study it in the Sabbath school so much
new light was thrown upon it by the
instruction of the superintendent and
his teacher, that the one which he
used in the Sabbath school seemed to
him a new book, and worth twenty of
the Testaments which he had been ar-
customed to read in Tennessee.
758
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC.
387
-—-
(b) DAUGHTER EXPLAINING
THE BIBLE.—A teacher called at a
neighbor’s house, and the parents being
absent, questioned the children about
the creation, the flood, dzc. They ap-
peared much surprised at the questions,
and were as unable to answer them as
though they had related to another plan-
et. They did not attend the Sabbath
school.
In the same neighborhood lived ano-
ther child, whose age Was about the av-
erage age of those children just men-
tioned, and her advantages, excepting
the Sabbath school, of which she was a
member, were no better than theirs.
As her father called on the superinten-
dent to inquire the meaning of a certain
passage of Scripture, he remarked that
he was in the habit of asking his daugh-
ter the meaning of obscure portions of
the Bible, and that he seldom failed of
obtaining a satisfactory explanation.
(c) A SCHOLAR BECOMING
LIND AND DEAF.-—A writer in
“ The Children’s Friend,” for 1838,
states that while attending an eminent
surgeon to have an operation performed
on one of his eyes, a friend of his led
into the same room a young woman
who was completely blind and deaf.
This sad condition had been brought on
suddenly, by a violent pain in the head.
Her case was examined by a number of
surgeons then present, all of whom pro-
nounced it incurable. She was led
back to the house of my friend, when
she eagerly inquired what the doctor
said about her case, and whether he
could afford her any relief. The only
method by which her inquiries could be
answered was by tapping her hand,
which signified No ; and by squeezing
it, which signified Yes; for she could
not hear the loudest noise, nor distin-
guish day from night. She had to re-
ceive for her answer on this occasion,
the unwelcome tap, N 0. She burst in-
to tears, and wept aloud in all the bit-
terness of despair. “ I/Vhat I” said she,
“shall I never again see the light of
day, nor hear a human voice '2 Must I
remain inc apable of all social intercourse
--shut up in silence and darkness while
I live ’?” Again she wept. The scene
was truly affecting. Had she been able

to see, she might have been pointed to
the Bible as a source of comfort. Had
she been able to hear, words of consola-
tion might have been spoken , but, alas!
those channels to the mind were closed,
to be opened no more in this world.
Her friends could pity, but they could
not relieve; and what made her case
still more deplorable, she was an orphan,
had no father or mother, or brother or
sister, to pity and care for her. She
was entirely dependent upon a few pi-
ous friends for her support. This she
felt, and continued to weep, 'll my
friend, with great presence of mind,
took up the Bible, and placed it to her
breast. She felt it, and said, “Is this
the Bible ?” She was answered that it
was. She held it to her bosom, and
said, “ This is the only comfort I have
left, though I shall never be able to read
it any more ;” and began to repeat
some of its promises, such as, “ Cast thy
burden on the Lord, and he will sustain
thee.” “As thy day is, so shall thy
strength he.” “Call upon me in the
day of trouble, and I will deliver thee.”
“My grace is sufficient for thee,” etc.
In a moment she dried her tears, and
became one of the happiest persons I
ever saw. She never seemed to de-
plore her condition afterwards. I have
many times heard her speak of the
strong consolations she felt.
Happily for this young woman, she
had been taken, when a very little girl,
to a Sunday School, where she enjoyed
the only opportunity she ever had of
learning to read the Bible, and where
she had committed to memory those
passages of Scripture which now became
her comfort. \Vith great gratitude she
used to speak of her teachers, who, she
said, not only taught her to read, but
took pains to instruct her in the things
that belonged to her eternal peace.
“What would have become of me, had
I not then been taught the way of sal-
vation, for now I am deprived of all out-
ward means ?” was her constant lan-
guage.
(ti) MILITARY PENSIONER.-~
An aged man in America, a military
pensioner, who commenced his Christian
life at threescore years and ten, was in-
duced to join a Sabbath school. Speak-
759
388, 389
SABBATH SCHOOLS.

ing of the benefits derived from the
school, he said ne had been in the habit
of reading the Bible from his youth,
and had read it through many times,
and thought he understood it tolerably
well ; but when he joined the Sabbath
school, he found it was necessary to do
something more than read the Bible.
He had to S€6t7‘Ch the Scriptures. And
it led him to observe, that we are no-
where commanded to read the Bible, but
every where directed and encouraged to
“ search the Scriptures.”
888. Influence in Promoting Attendance
on Public Worship.
(a) LEADING PARENTS TO
WORSHIP.—A little girl one Sabbath
morning was much affected under the
sermon, and on her return home, ear-
nestly entreated her mother would ac-
company her to chapel in the evening
to hear how delightfully the minister
talked about Jesus Christ. The child
was so intent on this object that she
made the request with tears, and the
mother, at last, consented to accompany
her importunate girl to the chapel. The
preacher chose for his text, “ I am not
ashamed of the gospel of Christ ; for it
is the power of God unto salvation,”
Rom. i. 16. The woman was seriously
and effectually impressed by the word
of God, was led earnestly to seek salva-
tion, and obtained mercy by faith in
Christ Jesus. The wife now naturally
became anxious for the salvation of her
husband, and persuaded him also to at-
tend the chapel. He also submitted to
the influence of the truth, and both the
parents became grateful to God for the
child whose importunity led them to hear
the gospel of salvation.
(b) DYING GIRL AND HER
F ATHER.—A little girl went to the
Peter-street, Wardour-street, Sunday
school, Westminster, for about two
years: her conduct and conversation
were always very exemplary. Her
parents paid little or no regard to reli-
gion ; but when, on a Sunday, her father
was going out to take his pleasure she
would often say, “Father, the people
are going and coming out of church,
why do you not go '2” and such like ex-
aressions. Her death was caused by

an accident, some boiling liquid being
thrown over her, on the 20th of Novem-
ber, 1821. She lingered until the next
day, and then died, aged eight years.
She bore the anguish with great pa-
tience and resignation; and about two
hours before her death, she said to her
father, “I am going to heaven ; I hope
you will go to chapel, that you may go
to heaven when you die ;” and he so]-
emnly promised to do as she requested.
He accordingly attended public worship,
and the first discourses he heard all
seemed to be directed only to and for
him. He then had reason to remember
his dear child, and her words; and a
radical change ensued. He constantly
attended there; the ward of eternal life
was blessed to his soul, and he became
a communicant. There was also a
change at home ; the mother generally
attended with her husband. Thus,
through the instrumentality of this little
girl, a whole family was brought near
to God.
§c) A SCHOOL’S INFLUENCE.
— n a town in Massachusetts there was
a large neighborhood, where many of
the inhabitants were accustomed to spend
the Sabbath in hunting, fishing, drunk-
enness, and profaneness. There was
only one professor of religion in the
place. She went to the church with
which she was connected, three or four
miles distant, and asked if something
could not be done to serve her neigh-
bors’.Z A few teachers were sent out
to commence a Sabbath school there.
One year after, most of the inhabitants
had found their way to the house of God,
where they afterwards attended regu-
larly ; and one old man who had lived
eighty years, zealously declaring to all
around him, that the “ wicked shall not
be turned mto hell with all the nations
that forget God,’ ’ erected the family al
tar, and gave pleasing evidence that me
had commenced a new life. The whole
moral character of that neigborhood is
radically changed.
889. In Promoting Benevolence and other
Virtues.
(a) THE LITTLE GIRL AND
THE LOST POCKET-BOOK.—A
gentlemen jumping from an omnibuv
760
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC.
389
—____
in the city of New-York, droppedl scholars are showing their love to the
his pocket-book, and had gone some
distance before he discovered its loss;
then hastily returning, inquired of every
passenger whom he met, if a pocket-
book had been seen. Finally, meeting
a little girl of ten years old, to whom he
made the same inquiry, she asked,
“ what kind of a pocket-book '2” He
described it--then unfolding her apron,
“ Is this it '2” “ Yes, that is mine ; come
into this store with me.” They entered,
he opened the book, counted the notes,
and examined the papers. “ They are
all right,” said he ; “ fifteen notes of a
thousand dollars each ; had they fallen
into other hands, I might never have
seen them again; take then, my little
girl, this note of a thousand dollars, as
a reward for your honesty, and a lesson
to me, to be more careful in future.”
“ No,” said the girl, “I cannot take it;
I have been taught at Sunday school
not to keep what is not mine, and my
parents would not be pleased if I took
the note home, they might suppose I
had stolen it.” “ Well, then, my girl.
show me where your parents live.”
The girl took him to an humble tene-
ment in an obscure street, rude, but
cleanly; he informed the parents of the
case ; they told him their child had act-
ed correctly. They were poor, it was
true, but their pastor had always told
them not to set their hearts on rich gifts.
The gentleman told them they must
take it, and he was convinced they
would make a good use of it, from the
principle they had professed.
The pious parents then blessed their
benefactor, for such he proved, they
paid their debts which had disturbed
their peace, and the benevolent giver
furnished him employment in his occu-
pation, as a carpenter, enabling him to
rear an industrious family in compara-
tive happiness. This little girl became
the wife of a respectable tradesman of
New-York, and had reason to rejoice
that she was born of pious parents,
who had secured their daughter’s hap-
pin ass by sending her to Sunday school.
tb) ORIGIN OF A MISSIONARY
SOCIETY.—The Rev. Richard Knill
writes, in January, 1837,--“ There is
I town in England where the Sun lay

heathen ; a beautiful description of
which was sent to me by their minister.
I give it in his own Words :—
“ ‘ But you should have been with us
last Sabbath, for God has turned his
hands upon the little ones. You remem-
ber, when you were here, I told you
that the young people, who were flock-
ing around you, composed my spiritual
family, and that they had raised a
Sabbath school Missionary Society. How
it happened, I cannot precisely relate;
but a few months ago n_e children began
to be very desirous to have a society of
their own, and one little girl came to
her teacher, and told her, with tears,
that she had been praying to God a great
While to put it into the heart of her mo-
ther to give her a penny, to send the
news of salvation to the children of the
poor heathen. I knew the complaints
which had been made respecting the
contributions of older persons, but what
could Ido ’.Z If the love of Christ had
been enkindled in the breasts of those
of tenderest years, was it for me to strive
to quench it? Thirty or forty of the
dear little creatures met privately in the
vestry, on Sabbath morning, for prayer,
and to read the rules of the society, and
I never expect to have more sublime or
more tender emotions excited in my bo-
som, until I join the company of the
redeemed, than I felt when I looked up-
on this part of the army of Jesus, who
met at the footstool of divine mercy, to
grasp in their feeble hands the banners
of the cross, and who stood prepared to
wage war against the rulers of spiritual
wickedness in high places. Oh! what
an unspeakable mortification it must be
to the prince of darkness, to be con-
quered by such helpless instruments as
these !’ ”
(c) BRITISH CONSUL AND SAB-
BATH SCHOOL BOY.—The follow-
ing anecdote is copied from a New-York
paper, of July, 1818, in which it ap-
pears as a communication to the editor:
“ This moment the British consul has
related to me an anecdote toointeresting
to be suffered to pass unnoticed. A few
days since, a young man, about nine-
teen years of age, called at the consul’s
office, and made himself known as one
761
889
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
Whom, but a few years before, the con-
sul had taken into his own Sunday
school, in the north of Ireland. He
was then a poor, little, helpless, wretched
outcast. I‘-To father owned him for a
son ; bu. tne Sunday school was to him
as a father, asister and a brother. The
precepts of religion and morality, which
he learned there, have taken deep root
in his heart, and are now ripened into
abundance of fruit. He put into the
consul’s hand more than one hundred
dollars, the little earnings he had laid
up, to be remitted to his destitute mo-
ther, the forlorn daughter of shame and
sorrow.”
(cl) BOY RESISTING TEMPTA-
TION.--On a Sabbath afternoon, a little
boy, eight years of age, was in the sick
chamber of his afflicted father, reading
aloud a chapter in the Bible, when two
persons called in to see the father; they
requested that the child might be per-
mitted to finish the chapter, which be-
ing done, one of the visitors praised him
highly for his reading, and gave him
sixpence, desiring him to go and buy
some cakes, and divide them with his
brothers and sisters. “ What, to-day !”
exclaimed the child with astonishment,
for he had been taught to reverence the
Sabbath ; “ none but wicked people
keep open shop to-day, and I must not
go and buy of them.”
“ But mother will give you leave for
once,” returned the injudicious visitor,
because you have been such a good boy,
and read your chapter so well.”
The parents, of course, expressed
their positive and entire objection to such
a practice, and the child steadily refus-
ed to receive the money. But on the
persons taking their leave. the little boy
was desired to go down stairs with them
and open the street-door ; when his mis-
taken friend renewed her temptation,
slipping the sixpence into his hand, say-
ing, “There, now you can run and buy
what you like, your mother will not
miss you.” “No,” replied the child,
“ but if she should not, it is God’s com-
mandment that says, ‘Remember the
Sabbath day to keep it holy.’ ” So say-
mg, he laid the sixpence on the step,
and shut the door; there it was found
ay the servant, some hours afterwards;

A _I--___
when, on inquiry being made, the little
boy confessed that the visitor had again
offered him the money, and that he had
refused it. It was from the other lady,
Who was grieved at the imp-‘opriety 01
her friend’s conduct, while she admired
that of the child, that the parents were
afterwards informed of the firm and
proper reply. The boy’s next concern
was, how to return the money ; for the
idea of retaining it for his own use, even
on another day, seemed never to have
entered his mind. After a little consi-
deration, he inquired if it would be
right to purchase with it a little book on
the subject of keeping holy the Sabbath
day ; his proposal being agreed to, a
suitable book was named, but as the
price was a shilling, the boy cheerfully
contributed the remaining sixpence from
his own little store; and the following
day a book was purchased, and sent to
his mistaken friend; with his earnest
prayers that a divine blessing might ac-
company it.
(e) DEATH-BED CONTRIBU.
TION .-—A girl nine years of age united
with the school in T ,in the sum-
mer of 1834. She had not the privi-
lege of parental religious instruction.
Her residence was two or three miles
from school. On one Sabbath in August,
when notice was given in the school
that the next Sabbath would be contri-
bution-day, she was present. But it was
her last Sabbath. She went home un-
der the influence of that disease which,
during the week, hurried her into eter-
nity. .
While on her bed of sickness, she re-
membered the contribution-day, and
spoke of the luxury Qf giving. Twice
she had been present on the contribu-
tion Sabbath, and had put her cent into
the box. She called for the cent which
she had laid aside for the Sabbath, gave
it to her mother, and told her that if she
died 1>efore the next Sabbath, to carry
it to her teacher, that it might be put
into the Sabbath school contribution
trunk. On the next Sabbath, her soul
was in eternity; but her cent, like the
poor widow’s two mites, was cast inc
the treasury of the Lord.
(f) LITTLE BOY AND HIS
TRACT.--A little boy, belonging to 8

762
VARIOUS SALUTARY INFLUENCES, ETC.
3S9
Sabbath school in London, having occa-
sion every Sunday to go through a cer-
tain court, observed a shop always open
for the sale of goods. Having been
taught the duty of sanctifying the Lord’s
day, he was grieved at its profanation,
and for some time seriously considered
if it was possible for him to do any thing
to prevent it. At length he determined
on leaving a tract, “ ON THE Lonn’s
DAY,” as he passed by. On the next
Sabbath, coming the same way, he ob-
served that the shop was shut up. He
stopped, and pondered Whether this
could be the effect of the tract he had
left. He ventured to knock gently at
the door; when a woman within, think-
ing it was a customer, answered aloud,
“ You cannot have any thing; we don’t
sell on the Sunday.” The little boy
still begged for admittance, encouraged
by what he had heard, when the woman
recollecting his voice, opened the door,
and said, “ Come in, my dear little fel-
low : it was you who left the tract here
last Sabbath against Sabbath breaking,
and it frightened me so, that I did not
dare to keep my shop open any longer ;
and I am determined never to do so
again while I live.”
(g) SCHOLAR AND THE SICK
WOMAN.—A gentleman, near Lon-
don, went to visit a woman who was
sick. As he was going into the room,
he saw a little girl kneeling by the side
of the poor woman’s bed. The little
girl rose from her knees as soon as she
saw the gentleman, and went out of the
room. “ Who is that child '2” the gentle-
man asked. “ O sir I” said the sick
woman, “ that is a little angel, who
often comes to read her Bible to me, to
my great comfort ; and she has just now
given me sixpence.” The gentleman
was so pleased with the little girl’s con-
duct, that he wished to know how she
had learned to love the word of God,
and to be so kind to poor people. Find-
ing that she was one of the scholars of a
neighboring Sunday school, he went to
the school, and asked for the child. She
fa.“ rather afraid when she was called
to the gentleman ; but he was very kind
to her, and asked her if she was the
little girl that had been to read the Bible
to the sick woman. She said she was.

The gentleman said, “ My dear, what
made you think of doing so '2” She
answered, “ Because, sir, I find it said
in the Bible, that “pure religion and
undefiled before God and the Father is
this—to visit the fatherless and widows
in their affliction.’ ” “ Well,” said he,
“ and did you give her any money '3”
“ Yes, sir.” “ And where did you get
it’.2 “ Sir, it was given me as a re-
ward.”
(h) LITTLE PEACE-MAKER.—-
A gentleman, once speaking at a Bible
Society meeting, stated, ‘hat a little
time previously he had cal}-J in at one
of the Sunday schools in Southwark ;
and as he was looking over one of the
classes, the teacher took him aside and
said, “ Sir, Lucy, whom you have just
noticed, is one of the most extraordinary
children I ever knew.” “ How so '2”
said he. “ \/Vhy, sir, she is remarkably
diligent, gentle, and, above all, remark-
ably humble. She is very forgiving to
those who have injured her ; and there
never is a quarrel in the school but she
interferes, and is not satisfied until she
has reconciled the parties. I am almost
afraid of loving her too much.” After
school the gentleman addressed her:
“ Lucy, I am pleased to hear you give
great satisfaction to your teacher. VVhat
is it makes you so desirous to oblige your
schoolfellows, and settle their disputes?”
She blushed, and hesitated some time;
and at last said, in a meek voice, “ Sir,
I hope it is because our Savior has
said, ‘ Blessed are the peace-makers.’ ”
(i) SCHOLARS AND THEIR SICK
TEACHER. A number of boys, who
had been taught in a Sabbath school
near Sheflield, England, met in a field ;
and instead of spending their money in
oranges, on what is called Shreve-
Tuesday, they agreed to give all they
had to their teacher, who they knew
was in great distress. They tied up the
money in an old cloth; and, when it
was dark, they opened his door, and
threw it into the house. Inside of the
parcel was a small piece of paper, on
which was written, “ Trust in the Lord,
and do good, and verily th 311 shalt be
fed.”
(7') THE BOY AND HIS FAR-
THINGS.—At the anniversary of 8

763
389
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
—-
Sunday school, at Copthatl, a village in
Essex, on Sunday, Oct. 5, 1834, whilst
the collection was making, a little boy,
about seven years of age, put a bag up-
on the plate. As it was rather heavy,
the collector was curious to ascertain
its contents. On examination, it was
found to contain two hundred and eighty-
five farthings, or five shillings and eleven-
pence farthing. Upon inquiry, it was
found that the boy Was in the habit of
going on errands for his mother, and was
allowed the farthings in change, to be
disposed of as he pleased, which he per-
severingly saved, and generously gave
to the support of the Sunday school.
SATURDAY EVE NING
SCHOOL.-—The following anecdote is
extracted from a letter from Baltimore,
dated July, 1818 :—
A short time since, the mother of one
of the girls attending my school accost-
ed me in the street, and said she had
been wishing to see me for some time.
I replied, “I am glad to see you ; what
do you want with me '2” “Sir, I live
in a little village about three miles from
Philadelphia. We have no Sabbath
school there ; but my little girl attends
yours; and as she has derived a great
deal of good from it, she tried to get
some of our neighbors’ girls to go with
her, but she could not prevail on them
to go, it being so far off ; and so, about
two months ago, she began with a Satur-
day evening school.” “ A Saturday
evening school I” “ Yes, sir; and she
has now about thirty little girls attend-
ing regularly ; my house is quite filled
with them.” ~" What is the age of your
daughter 2” “ She is only twelve, sir.”
“And how does she conduct her school '2”
“in the same way that you do: she
goes through all the exercises of a Sab-
bath school ; and as she has no tickets
to reward them with, she is the more
diligent during the week to get her les-
son well, that she may receive her
tickets, and with these she rewards
her own scholars.” After getting her
address, I desired her not to say any
thing of our meeting, and I would en-
deavor to be at her house next Saturday.
I went, and oh! how was I delighted
with the fervency of this dear child, in
offering up the first prayer I I remain-

.-__
ed concealed; and witnessed the whole
duties of the school, conducted with all
the gravity of an aged matron.
(Z) SOLDIER GIVING AWAY
HIS PENSlON.——At the annual meet.
ing of the Sunday School Union, in
1822, the Rev. George Marsden stated,
that as a gentleman, who by the provi-
dence of God had become reduced in his
circumstances, was walking along the
street, he was met by an old soldier,
who immediately recognized him, and
mentioned the pleasure he felt in hav-
ing been one of his Sabbath scholars.
The soldier had heard of the circum-
stances which had reduced his former
teacher to distress, and thus addressed
him: “You were my teacher; Ihave
a pension from Government; I can
work a little, and will willingly give
my pension for your relief.”
(m) THREE SCHOLARS AND
THEIR MOTHER.—-Three boys at-
tended a Sunday school in London for
some time; at length their father died,
and their mother was taken so danger-
ously ill, that, being very poor, she was
obliged to be removed to the workhouse.
The two elder boys had employment, by
which they earned a few shillings each
per week. On the mother’s removal,
the three boys consulted together what
they should do; and they calculated
that what they could earn would be
sufficient to provide them with food, and
to pay the rent of the room which had
been tenanted by their mother. They
asked the landlord if he would let them
stop in the room, if they paid the weekly
rent regularly; to this he cheerfully
consented. Some weeks passed on, and
the third boy got a situation, and the
two eldest obtained an advance in their
wages on account of their diligence and
good conduct. By this time their mo-
ther had nearly recovered her health ;
the three boys again consulted together,
and found that their earnings would en-
able them to maintain their mother, and
they resolved upon trying to do it.
They accordingly made application to
the parish oflicers, and their mother was
restored to her house: and, by prudence
and economy, the boys managed to main-
tain the family, and to pay their rent
regularly. The boys acknowledgeu
764
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC.
390, 391

-_--.
that it was by their attendance at the
Sunday-school that they had been
taught to feel for their parent, and to
arrange their earnings so as to relieve
the parish from any further charge on
her account.
890. In Reforming Neighborhoods.
(a) TESTIMONY OF A JUS-
TICE.—A justice of the peace, near
Bristol, England, in 1820, speaking of
the neighborhood in which a Sunday
school had been established, said, that
formerly it was dangerous even to go
through the parish, in consequence of
the ‘gnorant and depraved state of the
inhabitants; but now he saw such an
alteration for the better, and was so
pleased with the sight of the children,
that on one occasion he invited them all
to his house, and gave them refresh-
ment.
(Z2) CHANGE IN THE SINGING
OF THE STREETS.—The teachers
in a New England Sabbath school, in
1830, were fully convinced of the good
influence their school had exerted on the
population with whom they labored.
Before its establishment, and even some
time afterwards, it was no uncommon
thing to hear songs and dancing tunes
on Sabbath mornings, in the street
where the school is located ; but during
the year then closed, it was ‘not remem-
bered that one instance had occurred;
but, on the contrary, they were often
heard singing psalms and hymns.
(c) SUNDAY SCHOLAR AND
DANCING.--The Sunday school at
Sheriff I-Iill, Newcastle, was established
in the year 1813, and the circumstances
attending its establishment were rather
singular. A dancing school had, at
that time, been opened there, and many
seemed desirous of attending it. Some
Christian colliers conversing on the sub-
ject, down in the pit, and endeavoring
to devise some means for stopping the
pr )gress of iniquity, it occurred to one
of them, that the most effectual way
would be to begin a Sunday school.
When they came up from tl1e pit, they
spoke to one of the agents of the colliery,
who expressed himself favorable to the
undertaking, and very handsomely gave
them permission to teach m the very room

where the dancing was taught. They
went home full of gratitude to the Lord,
who had so far opened a way for them.
They next canvassed the whole village,
taking down the names of such children
as wished to come: sixty-five agreed to
attend. They had, however, neither
books nor forms for the school ; but the
Lord raised up a kind friend, who sup-
plied them with both. The school was
then opened, and was soon filled. The
dancing was laid aside, and the children
were employed in reading their Bibles
and singing hymns.
891. In Conntoraoting and Removing
Infidelity.
(a) THE INFIDEL AND CHILD.
-A man, who was once a decided infi-
del, said he desired to bless God for
Sunday schools. They had been, he
observed, the means of saving his soul.
His brother-in-law and sister had, with
much entreaty, persuaded him to send
his little boy to the Sunday school. The
child had often heard the superintend-
ents enforce the duty and importance of
prayer, to which he had listened atten-
tively. One Sunday morning, while
his mother was dressing his little bro-
ther, this boy was missing, and on in-
quiring of him where he had been, he
replied, he had been saying his prayers:
and added, “Mother, does my father
ever pray '2” She informed his father
what the child had said. The father,
having lived in the neglect of prayer,
felt condemned; conviction seized his
mind: he sought the Lord, and found
him, to the joy of his soul.
(Z2) THE INFIDEL’S OBJEC-
TION.-——In conversation with a pious
woman, an infidel manifested great hos-
tility to Sabbath schools. He said it
took possession of the minds of the young
and made impressions which they could
not get rid of ! Such was the case With
him, in reference to the instructions of
his mother. Although he did not be-
lieve in the religious instructions she
inculcated when he was a child, yet he
could never get rid of it. It was al-
ways troubling him. The good woman
then told him, if that was the case, she
would do all that she could to encour-
765
ae1,s92
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
age Sabbath schoo s, and extend their
influence to the utmost.
(c) THE INFIDEL AND HIS
DAUGHTER.-—A deist whose infidel-
ity was shaken by the conversation of
his little daughter, Who attended a Sab-
bath school, was induced to attend the
preaching of the gospel. The Holy
Spirit accompanied it with his blessing.
On the following November 5th, he con-
vened his family together, and having
made a bonfire of his infidel books, they
all joined in singing that hymn, “Come
let us join our cheerful songs,” &c.
(d) AN INFIDEL’S ALARM.-
An infidel in the town of B. , New-York,
used to ridicule religion and rail against
it. On one occasion he observed, “ of
all religions that ever cursed the world,
the Christian religion is the worst.
But,” said he, as if he was considering
what he could do to stop its progress;
“ but,” said he, “ what I shall do to put
down these infernal Sunday schools,I
don’t know, 1’M AFRAID or THEM I” That
which so alarms the fears of some infi-
dels, should encourage the hopes and
nerve the hands of all Christians; and
for the very reasons such infidels would
pull down Sunday schools, Christians
should strive to build them up.
MORAL AND RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE ON
PUPILS.
892. In Preventing and Removing Crime
and Vice.
(a) SABBATH SCHOOLS AND
PRISON ERS.—.Ios. Lancaster says:
“I was naturally desirous of gaining
information and instruction from a ven-
erable man of seventy-two, who had in
a series of years, superintended the edu-
cation of 3,000 poor children ; who had
been actively engaged in visiting both
the city and the county prisons, where-
by he had gained an ample opportunity
of knowing if any of the scholars were
brought in as prisoners: and who on ap-
pealing to his memory, which, although
at an advanced age, is strong and lively,
could answer--‘ None I’ ”
In a letter to the editors of the New-
York Observer, in 1829, the chaplain of
the State Prison attests the following im-
portant fact :—-

-V--‘I
“I have lately made a pretty ther
ough inquiry among the convicts here,
for the purpose of learning who, and
how many, have ever enjoyed the ad-
vantages of a Sabbath school. The re-
sult 1s, that out of more than- five hun-
dred convicts, not one has been found
who has ever been, for any considera-
ble time, a regular member of a Sabbath
school : and not more than two or three
who have ever attended such a school
at all.
(b) SCHOLAR LEARNING HON-
ESTY.-—A colored boy, living with Dr.
M , ofP , was sent by a little
boy in the family with six cents to buy
a top for him. On his return, he told
the child that the top had cost twelve
cents, and that he had paid the other six
from his own money. He was repaid,
and no more was thought of the affair.
Some time after, the colored boy was
introduced to a Sunday school ; and hav-
ing learned some valuable lessons, he
one day said to his master’s son, “I
gave but six cents for that top, and not
twelve, as I told you; but I did not
know then, as I do since I have been to
a Sunday school, how wicked such
things are.” Handing him six cents
from his pocket, he said, “I have been
saving them for you, one by one-take
them, they are yours.”
(c) YOUNG CRIMINAL REFOR.
MED.——The following interesting ac-
count appeared in the Christian Guar-
dian of 1823, and was furnished by a
gentleman, who visited on the Sabbath
the city prison, in the Newgate of Dub-
lin, for the purpose of afibrding reli-
gious instruction to the prisoners :—-
One youth I gave up as a hopeless
case ; he pretended he could not read,
but I discovered he read better than
any of them. He endeavored to pick
my pockets, and to pull my coat when-
ever I happened to turn round, and
has pierced me With pins more than
once. I bore it all patiently ; and, in-
stead of causing him to be punished, I
expostulated with him on the folly and
wickedness of his ways. I also gave
him two or three suitable tracts, which
he promised to read.
Cold weather coming on, he had no
coat or shoes, a common thing in the

766
' stopped me.
RELKHOUSINFLUENLE,ETC.
392, 393
-_---p-_~.-—-_

-v-—
p-~— -_
prison, where some, indeed, were almost
naked. I promised him an old coat and
a pair of shoes, if he would become
more attentive. The bribe was too
tempting to be refused ; and, after two
or three weeks of trial, I sent him the
coat and shoes. He continued promis-
ing for some time, but there was nothing
in his conduct which could induce a
person to hope for an entire reforma-
tion. It is the duty of teachers, when
they meet with such a scholar, to pre-
sent him in fervent prayer before the
throne of grace ; yet, at the same time,
to watch 0‘ er him, and to lose no oppor-
tunity of communicating suitable ad-
vice. This was the method adopted on
the occasion, and I trust it was not una-
vailing. However, the term of his con-
finement expired, and he was released.
Shortly after, I had occasion to leave
town ; and, on my return, having been
reading the whole of the day,I went
out in the evening to enjoy a walk. My
spirits were unusually low. I pro-
ceeded along one of the public roads for
some time ; but the noise and bustle not
suiting my feelings, I turned up a nar-
row private road, shaded by trees on
both sides, and interspersed here and
there with neat whitewashed cottages.
On passing one of them, I heard the
clicking noise of a busy loom, and the
singin of a light-hearted weaver.
VV hen I had passed about fifty paces,
the door opened, and a neatly-dressed
young man called after me by name.
Not recognising him,I did not reply,
but proceeded. He ran after me, and
I looked at him. “Do
you not know me, sir ?” said he. “ No,
indeed I do not.” “ Do you not recol-
tect your scholar at Newgate, James
—— '2” I looked at him from head to
foot; but the neatly-combed hair, the
clean face, new shirt, and plain and
comfortable suit of clothes, had so
metamorphosed him, that it was with
difficulty I could recognize him. Ta-
king me most affectionately by the
hand, and with tears in his eyes, he
said, “ Sir, I saw you passing by, and
could not refrain from coming out to
ask your pardon for all my unkindness
to you; and to thank you for all that
you and the other young gentlemen said

to me while in Newgate. It was a sad
place, but I thank God that ever I was
put into it. I shall count that day the
happiest in my life. I should have
been new, perhaps, living in wicked-
ness, and probably come to the gallows
at last. When I got out, I was friend-
less, and without a home. But reflect-
ing on what was often told me in New.
gate, that Christ is the Friend of sin-
ners, and ever willing to receive the
vilest, I prayed to him to support and
assist me. I shuddered at the idea of
going to rob and pilfer again, and de-
termined to work. I got some work,
and some clothes too ; and I have new
employment enough at this cottage;
and I pass away my time very hap-
ily.”
(cl) SABBATH SCHOOLS TOO
L AT E.—“ Sabbath schools would have
saved me from the gallows; but they
were fifteen years too late for me,”
muttered the abandoned Gibbs, a few
days before his execution. But the
history of this pirate is not the only one
that furnishes occasion for such a de-
claration. Hundreds before him, who
have shed innocent blood, might as
justly have said, if we had been in-
structed in Sabbath schools, they would
have saved us from this ignominious
death on the scaffold !
(e) REPORTS OF THIRTY-FIVE
SCHOOLS.—-In the reports of 35
schools of Mass., in 1829, it was defi-
nitely stated, that no individual from
their number had ever been arraigned
before a civil tribunal for immoral con-
duct; while only two from all the
schools in the State, are mentioned,
who had been arrested: and these at-
tended the Sabbath school, irregularly,
for a very short time.
893. Conversions.
(a) FAITHFULNESS REWA RD-
ED.—During a single week, in 1842,
there were six hopeful conversions in
one class of ten or twelve boys, in the
Pearl-street Baptist Sabbath school in
the city of Albany. The teacher, G.
T. C., had for three or four weeks felt
an unusual anxiety for their salvation,
which led him to be faithful in his in
767
333 SABBATH
SCHOOLS
struction, and fervent in prayer for
them. He held several prayer meet-
ings at his house with them, to which
other scholars were invited, and at one
or two meetings they continued almost
“all night” in prayer. One Sabbath,
one of them, who had found peace the
night before, called on the teacher at 4
o’clock in the morning to tell him how
joyful he felt in loving the Savior, and
he was so happy he could not wait until
he should see him in the Sabbath school.
When the school assembled in the P.
M., they all came forward and told
what the Lord had done for them, and
affectionately invited their associates to
come to the Savior and taste the joys
they felt. Such a scene, and such a
circumstance would be interesting at
any time, but at that time particularly
so, from the fact that in the rest of the
school, and in the church, there was a
lamentable coldness, while the ways of
Zion mourned, and few came to her sol-
emn feasts.
(b) REV. MR. CHARLES’ TES-
TlMONY.—The excellent Rev. T.
Charles, of Bala, England, informed the
general meeting of the Sunday School
Union, in 1813, that, throughout the
country in which he resided, they re-
ccived most of the members into their
churches from Sunday schools; and
that, during the preceding year, nearly
one hundred persons had been received
into Christian communion from the Sun-
day schools in the town of Bala.
(0) GREAT‘ CHANGE IN A
FAMILY.-—The Rev. Mr. Hoover, in
addressing a meeting of the Philadelphia
Sunday School Union, thus spoke :-—
“If you had accompanied me in a
walk through this district, two years
ago, I could have led you to a house, or
rather a hovel, not far from this spot,
which was unfit to be the residence of
man or beast. There you would have
seen a widow with her seven children,
in the rags of poverty, and with the im-
press of misery on their countenances;
the room and its occupants forming a
scene of wretched ness seldom surpassed.
If you will go with me to-morrow, I will
show you the same house, but no longer
a miserable tenement. Within, you
shall behold the same widow, and the

same seven children 5 but clothed in
comfortable raiment, and peace smiling
in their faces. The Sabbath school
teacher has been there, and he has led
them to the place of holy instruction.
God has visited them in the plenitude of
his grace, and five of those seven chil.
dren give joyful evidence that they have
passed from death unto life.”
(d) “FROM THE TOP OF THE
ROCKS I SEE HIM.”--The Rev. T.
T. Biddulph, of St. J ames’s Church,
Bristol, England, mentioned from the
pulpit, about 1818, that a boy, some
years before, behaved so ill in the St.
J ames’s Sunday school, that neither
kindness nor severity appeared to have
any effect on him. At length the teach-
ers were very reluctantly obliged to ex-
pel him. For several years they heard
nothing of him, and had almost forgot-
ten the circumstance of his expulsion.
Lately, however, as a clergyman, who
had been a teacher in the school, was
sitting in his study, in a distant country
village, a sailor knocked at the door.
On being admitted, he said to the cler-
gyman, “I suppose that you have for-
gotten me, sir '2” “ Yes,” said the Rev.
Henry Poole, “I have, ifI ever knew
you.” “ Do you remember a wicked
boy named James Saunders '2” “Oh,
yes,” said he, “I have cause to remem-
ber him ; he gave me much trouble and
anxiety. What do you know of him '2”
“I am the lad !” “ You are grown so,
and so much altered, I could not have
believed it. Well, James, what account
can you give of yourself?” “ A very
sorry one, sir. When I was expelled
from the school, I left the city, and wan-
dered, I scarcely knew or cared where.
At length I found myself at the seaside.
Weary of living by lying and stealing,
I got on shipboard ; and after sailing in
various parts of the world, I was ship-
wrecked in a hurricane in the Bay of
Honduras. After swimming till my
strength failed me, I gave myself up for
lost. In the middle of a dark night, I
came to my senses, and found myself
on a rock half covered with water. I
looked around and called out for my
shipmates, and found that two of them
were circumstanced like myself, every
moment expecting a watery grave.
768
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC.
393
"ID --o
For the first time since I left the school,
you, sir, darted into my mind. I thought
ofyour kindness, of my base ingratitude,
and of some of the sacred truths you
took so much pains to fix in my memo-
ry ; particularly that passage in Num-
bers xxiii. 9, ‘ From the top of the rocks
I see him.’ In my extremity, I looked
to the Savior, of whom I had heard so
much, but whom I had so long slighted
and despised. I knelt down, up to my
waist in water, and cried mightily, that
God would be the rock of my heart, and
my portion for ever. I found your
words true, that ‘praying breath was
never spent in vain.’ On the d ay break-
ing, we discovered some pieces of the
wreck, on which we ultimately succeed-
ed in reaching the shore. Then many
precious truths which you had taught
me from the Bible came fresh into my
memory ; though I had almost forgotten
uuring my career of iniquity, even that
there was such a book. I thought, sir,
you would be glad to find that all your
care and anxiety on my behalf was not
lost; Itherefore walked from my ship
to thank you, in the best manner I can,
for your former kindness to me.”
Knowing the cunning adroitness of
the lad, Mr. Poole was half inclined to
discredit him. He inquired the name
of his captain, to whom he wrote, and
ascertained that since this young man
had sailed with him, his conduct had
been so correct and exemplary, that
whenever he knew James Saunders was
on deck, he made himself perfectly easy,
knowing that the duties of the ship
would be faithfully attended to. Many
months afterwards, Mr. Poole received
a letter from the captain, saying that
poor James Saunders, in a distant part
of the world, was seized with a fever;
that during its progress he sent for the
sailors, read to them while he was able
out of the Bible, exhorted them to cleave
to the Rock of ages that never moves,
to take example by him, though one of
the vilest of sinners, who had found
mercy and grace to help in every time
of need; and commending them all to
Jesus, he fell asleep in Him without a
struggle.
The new school rooms at Bristol, ac-
commodating from five to six hundred


‘ children, being in debt several iUJl'lL"l‘d
pounds, some gentlemen of the commit-
tee, and other friends to the institution,
had lent the money wanted, upon loan,
in sums to suit their convenience, and
had received bills for their respective
amounts bearing interest. The day af-
ter narrating the above incident, Mr.
Biddulph received from a member of
his congregation a letter, inclosing one
of these bills for fifty pounds, requesting
Mr. B. to burn it, as the above anecdote
had amply repaid both the principal and
interest on it. Another of the congre-
gation, who held three similar fifty pound
bills, sent them with a like request.
Surely this is encouragement for every
person connected with Sunday schools,
to persevere amidst discouragements.
(e) TWO ORPHAN SCHOLARS.
——Some years ago, two little boys, de-
cently clothed, the eider about thirteen
years of age, and the younger eleven,
called at a lodging house for vagrants,
in Warrington, to stay for the night.
The keeper of the house, very properly,
took them to the Vagrant Office to be
examined, that, if proper objects, they
might be relieved. The account they
gave of themselves was very affecting,
but no doubt was entertained of its truth.
It appeared, that but a few weeks had
elapsed since these poor little wanderers
had resided with their parents in Lon-
don. The typhus fever, however, in
one day, carried off both father and mo-
ther, leaving them orphans. Immedi-
ately after their parents were buried,
the children, having an uncle in Liver-
pool, resolved to go and throw them-
selves upon his protection; and, tired
and faint, they arrived in the town of
Warrington, on their way thither.
Two bundles contained their little all.
In the youngest boy’s was found neatly
covered and carefully preserved, a Bi-
ble. The keeper of the lodging house
said to the boy, “You have neither mo-
ney nor meat, will you sell me this Bi-
ble ‘.3 I will give you five shillings for
it.” “ No,” exclaimed he; “ I’ll starve
first.” “ The keeper then said, “ there
are plenty of books to be bought besides:
this; why do you love the Bible to
much ’?” The boy replied, “No bovk
has stood my friend so much as the Bi-
49
769
393
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
__ -- ~- -

-_-_
ole.” “ VVhy, what has the Bible done
for you ?” He answered, “When I
was a boy about seven years of ageI
became a Sunday scholar in London
where I learned to read my Bible.
This Bible showed me that I was a sin-
ner, and a great one too. It also point-
ed me to the Savior, and I thank God,
I have found mercy at the hands of
Christ, and I am not ashamed to confess
him before the world.” To try the boy
still farther, six shillings were offered to
him for his Bible. “ No,” said he, “ it
has been my support all the way from
London. Hungry and weary, often
have I sat down to read my Bible, and
have found refreshment from it, andl
have experienced the comfort David felt,
when he said, ‘In the multitude of my
thoughts within me, thy comforts delight
my soul.’ ” He was then asked, what
he would do when he got to Liverpool,
should his uncle refuse to take him in’.2
His reply may excite a blush in many
other Christians; “ My Bible tells me,
‘When my father and mother forsake
me the Lord will take me up.’ ” The
children had in their pockets tickets, as
rewards from the Sunday school to
which they belonged, and thankfulness
and humility were visible in all their
deportment. At night they committed
themselves to God in prayer, and the
next day pursued their journey to Liv-
erpool.
CLASS OF TWENTY CHIL-
DREN.—Rev. Mr. , of H ,
Mass., in August, 1830, thus wrote :
“Since the 1st of February, of the pre-
sent year, 161 persons have been admit-
ted to this Church, most of whom have
generally attended my Bible class in-
struction, for the last six years, and
nearly 60 of them have been members
of the Sabbath school. I have a class
Qf twenty chilalren, all of whom are mem-
oers of the Sabbath school, who are cher-
tslnhg the hope that they have passed from
death unto life. These children are
from eight to fourteen years of age. The
object of bringing them into a class, has
reference to their making a profession
of religion.
(g) THE CLASS OF LARGE
St/‘HOLARS.—ln 1833, the superin-
tendent of a school in Massachusetts


_ -1-: 0 --Q-on
made an attempt to gather into th:
school again, some of the youth who
had left under the impression that they
were too old to be members. At first a
class of about 16 females \was formed.
The next summer [1834] it numbered
40 males and females. Twenty of this
class in two years after its formation,
made a public profession of religion.
(h) SAILOR CONVERTED IN
PRISON .—F. O. was a sailor, illiterate
and headstrong. Left in early life with-
out a father to guide his youthful steps,
he rushed thoughtlessly along in the
path of folly and dissipation, regardless
of the remonstrances of a widowed mo-
ther. His progress was consequently
downwards, until he was arrested by
the hand of civil justice, for a deed of
midnight villainy. He was convicted,
and sentenced to the Auburn prison,
New York. As he was about to take
his leave of home, with the officer who
conducted him to the place of confine-
ment, he was entreated by all the force
of a mother’s love, to think upon his
ways, to conform to the laws of the pri-
son, to read his Bible, to repent, and
obey God. He mocked at the counsels
and tears of maternal tenderness, de-
claring, with dreadful oaths, tnat he
would “listen to none of her pious en-
treaties; that he cared not for God or
man ; and that he intended to give him-
self to sin while he lived!” During
the first two years of his imprisonment,
all the bitterness of his hostility against
religion continued. A Bible was put
into his cell, but he refused to read it,
and, to use his own expression, “ Would
rather see the devil than the face of a
chaplain.” At the end of two years he
was persuaded to enter the Sabbath
school kept in the prison. Here the
“ sword of the Spirit” found an avenue
to his heart; his enmity was slain ; his
stubbornness yielded to tenderness ; and
his hatred was transformed to love. He
now spoke of the Savior with a burst-
ing heart. “Oh,” said he, “I bless
God that I was ever brought to this pri-
son! It was this that saved me from
destruction. I should certainly have
ruined myself if I had not been arrest-
ed.” At the mention of his mother’:
name, I have seen, said the writer of the
770
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC.
393
account, the tear start in his eye, and
his frame shake with convulsive emo-
.111.-. “ Ah, my mother! had I listened
to her counsels! but I have broken her
heart! How many sighs and tears,
how many sleepless nights and agoniz-
ing prayers I have caused her! When
I think of my poor mother, I sometimes
feel that I could burst the walls of my
cell, that I might go and fall before her,
to ask her forgiveness.” He was re-
leased from prison, and immediately
sailed on a friend, to whom the above
confessions were made. After pledging
himself to unite with the people of God,
a Bible was put into his hands, when,
with a bounding heart, he took his leave
and set his face towards the mansion of
his mother.
(2') THE WIDOW AND HER
SON.—At the annual meeting of a Sun-
day School Union, in England, in 1824,
the Rev. Jacob Stanley related the fol-
lowing fact respecting a Su.nd ay scholar.
Some years ago, there was a widow in
Staffordshire, Whose son attended the
Sunday school, but he did not at first re-
gard the religious instructions he re-
ceived. He became wild and profligate,
enlisted as a soldier, and was several
years on the continent. Another young
man from the same town, was proceed-
ing to join the regiment to which he be-
longed, and called on the poor widow to
ask her if she had any thing to send to
her son. She said she was very poor,
she had no money to send, and, if she
had, it might do lnm no good, but that
she could send him a Bible; and she
added, “ Give my love to him, and tell
him that it is my earnest wish that he
would read this book, and, beginning at
Matthew, that he would read one chapter
every day.” The young man took
the Bible, and when he joined the regi-
ment, he found out his townsman, who
asked him, “ Well have you seen the
old woman, and how is she ’!” “ She
is well and has sent you this present, a
Bible; and she desired me to say that
it was her request, and perhaps her last
request, that you would read a chapter
in it every day.” “ Well,” replied he,
“I will comply with her request, on
condition that you will join with me in
reading this chapter.” The engage-

ment was made, and they read to the
third chapter of John, with which they
were much struck. A pious sergeant
explained what they read, and the Holy
Spirit applying the truth to their minds,
they became the subjects of godly sor-
row, and attained that peace which pass-
eth all understanding. Soon after they
were called into an engagement, when
the son of the widow was wounded, and
carried into the rear by his comrade.
When the battle was over, he went to
look for his wounded comrade, and found
him with that Bible open which had
been the means of his conversion; it
was covered with his blood, and his
spirit had fled. He took up the Bible,
and on his return waited on the widow-
ed mother, and presented her with it.
THE SHIPWRECKED SAIL-
OR.-—-A young man, about to retire
from a school in Scotland, received from
the Rev. Dr. Colquhoun, on one occa-
sion that he visited the institution, a Bi-
ble, with a suitable inscription, as a re-
ward for good conduct. Many, who
were present on that occasion, will long
remember with what earnestness that
venerable servant of God invoked the
blessing of the Almighty on the young
man here alluded to, while he stood with
the sacred gift in his hand; that he
might be protected by God in whatever
situation he might be placed, and that
the Bible he had that night received
might prove a source of consolation to
him in the hour of adversity and distress.
The subsequent history of this unfortu-
nate youth, showed that these supplies.-
tions had been abundantly answered;
for shortly after he went to sea, and the
vessel in which he was on board, as a
mariner, was wrecked on the western
coast of Scotland, and all hands perisl -
ed. The corpse of the young sufferer
was found stretched on the shore, and
his name and birth place came to be
known by the inscription on this Bible,
which was found in his bosom.
(it) A SAILOR’S TESTIMONY.--~
The following letter, of a sailor, is ex.
tracted from the American Sunday
School Magazine :-
“I consider a Sunday school, proper-
ly conducted, a great blessing to the
poor of our land. I am a living witnesl
771
393
SABBATH SCHOOLS.

of its benefits. I was born of poor pa-
rents, who could send me to no other
school. It was there, in the course of
one year, together with my private tui-
her. at home, that I acquired that degree
of education which I now possess. I
.vas taught to fear God, obey my parents,
3everence the Sabbath, abhor the sins of
lying, cheating, stealing, and a cata-
logue of others: and had it not been for
a. wicked relation, who inspired me with
a notion for the sea, I perh‘aps never
should have sunk to such depths of wick-
edness as I have done. But being sur-
eunded, while a sailor, with sinful com-
iany,I soon forsook the holy counsel
given me by my teachers; but I never
could plead ignorance in sinning, for the
convictions I received at the Sunday
school never left me, although I sailed
eleven years on the ocean, in daily re-
bellion against God. Surely I may say
that goodness and mercy have followed
me.
“During those eleven years, I have
frequently sailed from England, my na-
tive country, to almost all parts of Eu-
rope and Africa, to the East and West
Indies, South America, and British
North America. And, oh! how many
times has the Lord saved me from an
untimely death, both in storms and bat-
tles ! Had I room, I would new record
them, and thereby render a public
thanksgiving to God my Savior. But
I cannot forbear inserting one instance
of his goodness. In May, 1812, we
were sailing to the East Indies, from
London, being near the equinoctial line,
two ships in company, with a detach-
ment of soldiers on board of each; it
being a fine day, and our ship and her
consort not more than three-fourths of a
mile apart, the crews and soldiers of
both ships obtained leave from their offi-
cers to go a swimming. I, then a dar-
ing sinner, plunged into the water, in
company, perhaps, with one hundred
more. A man from the other ship, at
the same time, with a bottle of rum in
his hand, while swimming, challenged
any of us to meet him halfway between
the two ships. A soldier who was a
better swimmer than I was, agreed with
me to meet him; but none of the rest
would dare to go. ‘We had scarcely

~fi
reached him, at the distance of nearly
half a mile from our ship, when out
mate, who was up in the rigging, saw a
shark coming astern of our ship, and
called to us to make haste on board.
Those who were near the ship, got im-
mediately on board, and a boat was
lowered down for the rest ; but she
could not hold all the soldiers, and I,
who it as furthermost from the ship, was
in consequence left. By this time, some
on board had thrown overboard a hook,
with an eight-pound piece of pork on it,
with the intention of deceying the shark
from us; but it seemed to take no no
tice of it, but steered directly for us.
By this time my companion, who out-
swam me, had reached the head of the
ship, and taken hold of a rope that hung
from thence, but was so exhausted that
he could not climb it. While he was
trying to climb the rope I came up to
him, and caught him by the leg as he
hung about half out of water. My
clinching him caused him to slip down,
and being more expert than he, I caught
hold of the rope above his hands, and
placing my knees upon his shoulders, I
made an effort to reach the head of the
ship! but at that instant the rope broke,
and plunged us both in the water along-
side of the shark. I then swam round
the stern of the ship, and took hold of
another rope, and was soon on deck and
out of danger. I looked down at the
soldier, and saw the shark open his
mouth to receive his prey. The men
on deck called at the same time to the
man to kick with his feet. He did so,
and struck the shark on his nose ; when
he directly turned away from the man,
who, at that instant, was caught by a rope
with a noose on it, and hau'led up into
the ship. The shark then took the bait,
and we hoisted him in. He measureu
about sixteen feet; and his jaws, when
extended, would admit of a bulk nearly
as large as a barrel. It was now tha:
the serious impressions which I receives.
at the Sunday school came fresh to my
mind, and reproached me with ingrati-
tude against God. But glory to his ho-
ly name, he rescued me from an un-
timely death, and I trust I shall praise
him for the same, in time, and to all
eternity. “GEORGE P. Honmns.”
772
RELKHOURINFLUENC ,ETC
(Z) THE WELSHMAN’S SAB-
BATH SCI-IOOL.—-“ When I stand in
the pulpit before my own people on the
Sabbath,” says the Rev. John Todd,
“I see before me an aged man in the
gallery, for each Sabbath he is there,
and the sight of him brings with it de-
lightful associations.
“ In former days he resided in North
Wales. There were no Christians in
his neighborhood. He wished to com-
mence a Sunday-school, but could find
no better place than a back-kitchen.
Here he weekly assembled his little
flock, and, for eleven years, labored
alone, except with the aid of the scho-
lars he had trained. Among his first
pupils were two children of impenitent
parents. These two girls had a little
brother, to whom they were accustomed
to teach what they learned in the Sab-
bath scbool.‘ They were so interested
in the Bible, that, being occupied in
braiding straw as a business, they would
first braid the length of a straw, then
study a verse, then braid, and then
study, so that they always came pre-
pared with their Bible lesson.
“Their instructor, a long time ago,
emigrated to this country, and this aged
parishioner showed me a letter he had
received from this scene of his early
labors. The Sunday school is still
taught there, not as before, in a back
kitchen, but in a neat house of God.
The minister of this sanctuary is a
devoted man, laboring faithfully and
successfully in his Master’s vineyard.
He is the “little brother” of those
“little girls.” His sisters are married.
One is'the mother of nine children, and
lost her husband the last year by the fall-
ing in of a coal mine; but she had the
happiness to know that, only the day
before this event, he had renewedly
consecrated himself to God. The mi-
nister lives contentedly upon forty
pounds a year,~happy in his home-—-
happy in his people——happy in his Sa-
vior-—blessed of God, and blessing
athers. This minister, this church, this
flock, all sprang from that Sunday
school ; and, whenl look upon my aged
parishioner in the gallery, I cannot but
reflect what a crown he has for his
hoary head.”

393, 394
.--_. '- -—.
394. Revivals.
(a) HAPPY RESULTS .OF ONE
SCHOOL.-—In a certain school in New
England, in 1832, sixty-one out of fifteen
classes of 160 pupils, under 16 years of
age, became hopefully pious. In six
classes, embracing 71 young persons
over 16 years of age, sixty indulged hope
that they had passed from death untc
life, making in all oNE HUNDRED AN]:
TWENTY-ONE who became hopefully
pious, in a school of 231 scholars.
(Z2) REPORT OF 1836.—The Re-
port for 1836, mentions one hundred ana
seventy-three teachers, and one thousana
four hundred and fortyfour schtlars,
who had united with the church during
the year.
(c) REVIVALS IN TEN
SCHOOLS. -— In a County Sabbath
school Society, in Mass., embracing ten
parishes, and the same number of schools,
the Lord smiled upon this institution, in
1834-5, and shed down upon it the in-
fluence of his Holy Spirit. Six schools
were blessed with powerful revivals ot
religion. THREE HUNDRED scholars
from these ten schools made a profession
-during the year. It is supposed the
whole number that passed from death
unto life is over FOUR HUNDRED ! “ This
is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous
in our eyes.”
(d) ONE HUNDRED SCHOLARS
CONVERTED.—-In , Mass., ef-
forts were made in the early part of
the year 1835, to excite a more general
and deeper interest in the Sabbath
school concert. The influence of these
efforts was to increase the number of
the school and the fidelity of the teach-
ers. “ This general interest,” says the
pastor, “ increased through the summer
till September, when more manifes‘
signs appeared—-though two or three
conversions had before taken place—--of
the presence of the Holy Spirit. In a
few weeks the attention had become
general throughout the school. The
work of God was very solemn, as well
as animating, still and deep. ONE HUN-
DRED OR MORE MEMBERS or THE SCHOOL,
we hope, HAVE BEEN CONVERTED. -
(e) WVHAT A TEACHER CAN
DO.—About the first of September,

773
390
SCHOOLS.
SABBATH
1833, a deep and solemn interest upon
the subject of religion, began to be
visible in the P1'esbyte1'ian church and
congregation of VVashingtonville, New-
York, and particularly in the Sabbath
school. Here commenced that revival
flame which subsequently spread
through the county, and brought sal-
vation to a multitude of souls.
One Sabbath school teacher, feeling
deeply the responsibility resting upon
her, and the worth of immortal souls,
before the school was dismissed on the
Lord’s day, afiiactionately requested her
class, consisting of little girls about
twelve or thirteen years of age, to re-
main after the rest of the school had
retired. She then began, with an
aching heart and with flowing tears, to
reason and plead with them upon the
subject of personal religion. They
were deeply affected, and “wept bit-
terly ” in view of their lost condition.
They then all knelt together before the
Lord, and the teacher prayed for their
salvation ; and immediately the scholar
next to her commenced praying for her-
self, and then the next, and so on, until
the whole class, with ardent supplica-
tions, begged for the forgiveness of their
sins and the salvation of their souls. It
would take long to tell the history of
this class, and relate particular instances
of conversions, and the happy changes
which took place in the families to
which they belonged, and show the
family altars which were established.
These scholars, with their teacher and
their fathers and mothers, brothers and
sisters, were ere long seen commem-
orating a Savior’s dying love together.
The revival extended itself to other
towns, and the great day can alone un-
fold the astonishing results.
895. Happy Deaths
(a) TI-IE CHILD’S LAST PRAY-
ER.——A pious little boy, who attended
the Sabbath school, a few hours before
nis death broke out into singing, and
sung so loud, as to cause his mother to
inquire what he was doing. “I am
singing my sister’s favorite hymn, mo-
ther.” “ But why, my dear, so loud 2”
,‘ Why,” said he, with peculiar empha-

-— --v_ Wit-,.
sis, “because I am so happy." Just
before his death, with uplifted hands,
he exclaimed, “Father! F atherl 1'.‘d.K6
me, Father.” His father went to lift
him up, when, with a smile, he said,
“ I did not call you, father ; but I was
calling to my heavenly Father to take
me; I shall soon be with him':” and
then expired.
(b) “I HAVE GIVEN MYSELF
TO MY SAVIOR.”——I take the liberty
(writes the wife of a pastor in Massa-
chusetts) to add a few particulars of
the remarkably happy death of a young
lady who was nurtured in the Sabbath
school, with which she was connected
from early childhood unti_ rer mar-
riage about two years since.
S. A. E. was constant in her attend-
ance on the Sabbath school, punctual
and very correct in her lessons, and
amiable in her deportment. But it
was not until the age of 16, that the
precious treasure of divine truth, stored
up in her memory, was made instru-
mental of awakening her conscience,
and leading her to the “ Fountain opened
for sin.” The moment Will never be
forgotten when, in a circle of weeping
associates, who had assembled to in-
quire of their pastor, “ ‘What shall I do
to be saved '2” S. A. E. arose, and with
her characteristic decision exclaimed,
“ I have given myself to my Savior I”
Nor will those who had assembled at
that hour to pray for their beloved
children, forget the thrill of joy which
pervaded the room as the pastor an-
nounced the fact, that this child of
many prayers and tears, had, it was
believed, accepted the offers of mercy.
Five years she adorned her professionI
and the rich fruits of gentleness, meek-
ness, submission under severe trials,
and filial piety, hung thickly on this
‘ youthful plant.
But, at length, it pleased God to try
the strength of her faith in sickness and
death. Her illness was of several
weeks’ continuance, but her mind was
calm, collected, and with entire sub-
mission patiently waiting the result.
The writer, who was formerly her
teacher in the Sabbath school, was per-
mitted to enjoy the high privilege of
looking upon this young Christian as
774
RELIGIOUS INFLUENCE, ETC.
395
she lay in the embrace of the king of
t61‘l'O1'S. But there was no terror there.
Her pallid face was radiant with smiles
of perfect peace. “I am very low,”
she remarked, in clear and distinct ac-
cents. “ Yes, but you may be raised up
again.” “ If it be the will of God, Ide-
sire to live ; if not, I desire to die. What-
ever may be His will, is mine. I desire
nothing but his will. I hope I shall
never desire any thing but His wil .”
“You are happy in your Savior '4”
“ Oh, yes! Millions of worlds would
be nothing in comparison with my hope
in Him. His dying blood, how pre-
cious ! It is all, all to me now.”
“ You can then resign your dear
babe to His care '2” “ Yes, and I
snow he will take care of it. I have
not one doubt of that. It is,” she added,
“ a great thing to die. I have been an
unprofitable servant, but Christ and his
pardoning blood are my hope.” More
she would have said, but the day had
chiefly been spent in bidding farewell
to her numerous friends, and express-
ing to all the happiness which she felt
in her Redeemer. And there she stood
amid the billows of death, with her foot
firmly fixed on the Rock of Ages. None
could look unmoved upon that scene.
None could listen to such expressions of
confiding trust without exelaiming, “It
is well to be a Christian—it is well to
die a Christian.” Lovely in life, hap-
py in death, and glorious in eternity, is
our departed young friend. These
precious words she left for the subject
of her funeral sermon : “ The blood of
Jesus Christ his Son, cleanseth us from
all sin.” 1 John 1 :7.
(0) DEATH FROM HYDROPHO-
BIA.—-—A little boy, about eleven years
of age, a Sunday scholar in Camber-
well, was bitten by a mad dog; the
part was cut out, and caustic applied,
but the fatal poison could not be arrest-
ed in its progress, and nine weeks after
the accident, decided symptoms of hy-
drophobia were manifested. It appears
that the poor boy had depended chiefly,
if not entirely, on Sunday school teach-
ing for all his religious instruction, and
now the great advantage of correct in-
formation on scriptural subjects was
evinced. He was aware of the nature


cf his disease, took patiently the medi-
cines recommended to him, and bade
farewell to a playmate, saying, he
should never see him again. But
frightful paroxysms of pain came on;
sometimes he was lifted suddenly up-
right in the bed, while the agony of
speaking was so great that he could
only utter words at intervals, and then
in reply to necessary questions. But
in the midst of judgment God remem-
bered mercy,—-an interval of compara-
tive composure, a fact almost unprece-
dented in this disease, was gra ted the
sufferer; and then was felt the sweet
influence of that religion which he had
been taught, and which gives divine
wisdom to the meanest capacity. He
knelt on the bed, and prayed——prayed
to Jesus, and besought the salvation of
his soul. He needed comfort; but he
had not, as is too frequently the case, to
seek it amid the pains and confusions of
a dying hour, and, in the darkness of
nature, mistake broken reeds for sub-
stantial supports ; no, the way of peace
and life had again and again been
pointed out to him ; he believed, and
who can doubt that he was saved ‘.2 He
repeated and sung most of the hymns
he had been taught ; joy beamed on the
countenance which had been so lately
distorted with agony ; he called on those
around to attend to the things of re-
ligion, and prayed that their hearts
might be turned from stone to flesh.
How sweet, when sinking with appre-
hension, to find the means of support so
near, with so firm a foundation secured
to us! “ Come to Jesus, come with
me,” said the little sufferer, as he qui-
etly passed to glory.
(ti) CHILDREN’S INFLUENCE
ON PARENTS.—I can state, says
Mr. Wilderspin, that a man discontinued
drunkenness from the simple prattle of
his infant. He was in the habit of fre-
quently getting drunk; there were two
or three children under seven years of
age, and they all slept in the same
room, though not in the same bed.
The man came home one night drunk ;
his wife remonstrated with him, when
he struck her. The woman cried r ery
much, and continued to cry after she
got into bed ; but a little creature, two
v~~~
(U)
395,396 SABBATH
SCHOOLS
. P1Y~
‘ sin; and I think I shall go to heaven,
or three years old, got up, and said,
“Pray, father, do not beat poor mo-
ther ;” the father ordered it to get into
bed again: the little creature got up
again, and knelt down by the side of
the bed, and repeated the Lord’s prayer,
and then concluded in this simple lan-
guage: “Pray, God, bless dear father
and mother, and make father a good
father. Amen I” This went to the
heart of the drunkard; the man told
me he covered his face over with the
bed-clothes, and that the first thoughts
he awoke with in the morning, were
thoughts of regret, that he should stand
in need of such a remonstrance from
such a young child, and it produced in
him self-examination and amendment
of life. The family became united to
a Methodist chapel in that neighbor-
hood, and I have learned that they are
useful and valuable members of that
society.
(e) LEARNING FROM THE
BEST TEACHER.--The Rev. John
Griffin, of Portsea, England, gave the
following account of the death of one
of his Sunday scholars, in the year
1813. His mother at first had opposed
his going to the school, but afterwards
determined to go and hear what was
taught there, and by this means was
converted to God. N ot long after this,
her son, about eleven years of age, was
brought to his death-bed, and was visited
by his ministers and teachers.
The first time I asked if he expected
to go to heaven; “I do,” was the re-
I asked him, “Why do you ex-
pect to go to heaven’! All that die do
not go there, do they’.2 and why tnen do
you think you shall go to heaven '2”
He replied, “I hope I shall go there,
because I love the employment of the
heavenly. I think I shall be happy in
praising God, and serving him without
because I delight in the society of
heaven ; I shall rejoice in the presence
of a holy God, and holy angels, and the
spirits of just men made perfect.” He
paused, and I asked if he had any other
reason. He replied, “I hope I shall go
to heaven, because my heart is already
there ; and I do not think the Spirit of

God would have drawn my ‘cart to

him, and made me delight in holiness
and his service, if he had not intended
to take me to heaven.” I asked him if
he had always thought in this way.
“No, no,” said he; “I was once a
naughty and wicked boy, but by at-
tending the Sunday school I have
learned this : but I hope I have learned
it from a better Teacher than our Sun-
day school teachers. I think I have
learned it from the Spirit of God.”
BENEFITS OF SABBATH SCHOOLS TO
PARENTS, ETC.
396. Moral Benefits.
(a) SABBATH SCHOLAR AND
THE PRISON ERS.-—At, a Sunday
school annive1'sa1'y, the Rev. Mr. Hoe”-
er related the following facts :—
He had been called, in the providence
of God, some months before, to preach
to the inmates of a prison. On ap-
proaching a cell With the keeper, he
heard the voice of supplication to God ;
and when the door was opened, discov-
ered the occupant, an old man, in chains,
sitting on a log, with the Bible before
him, the open leaves of which were wet
with his tears. Into two other adjoining
cells was he conducted, each of which
was tenanted by men whose demeanor
and conversation indicated that they
had passed from death unto life. To
Mr. I-I.’s questions of surprise and pleas-
ure, the keeper related, that shortly af-
ter the imprisonment of the first men-
tioned convict, the unhappy man re-
ceived a letter‘ from his little son, in
words to the following effect :—-
“Dear Father-Soon after you left
us, a kind Sunday school teacher came
to our house, and took us with him to
the Sunday school. Several of my
companions go there too, and we pray
for you very much. We have laid up
some money for you, and are saving all
that we can to try to get you out. Do,
dear father, be good, and trust in God.”
The artless expression of love mani-
fested in this letter touched the father's
heart; and he, who had hitherto resist-
ed the Bible and his own conscience
was now bowed to the dust, in the an
guish of a smitten soul.
He began to pray, and to read that
776
BENEFITS TO PARENTS, ETC.
396. 397

A~_- --_—
ueglected word of life, and ceased not,
mi He who had wounded, showed him
that it was his merciful prerogative to
heal. The prisoners in the adjoining
cell, meanwhile, hearing the language
of prayer, at first wondered, but shortly
betook themselves to the same throne of
mercy. The feeling was communica-
ted to the next cell, and the inmates
were constrained to cry out, “What
must we do?” The fruits of this
awakening were testified, in the judg-
ment of charity, in the conversion of
three of these convicts to God.
(b) THE PUPIL AND HER MIS-
l‘RESS.—-A girl, who belonged to a
Sunday school in Birmingham, obtained
a situation as nurse maid in a respecta-
ble family. One Sunday evening her
mistress was informed that Mary had
been to the chapel, and she immediately
gave the girl warning to quit her ser-
vice in a month, saying that she would
have. no chapel-going servants in her
house. In the course bf the ensuing
week, one of the servants told her mis-
tress that Mary used to pray every night
before she went to sleep. The mistress
inquired whose prayer-book Mary took
to bed with her. She was told that she
prayed without a book. The mistress
replied, “That cannot be, for no one
can pray without a book.” The ser-
vant asked her mistress to come up
stairs and listen, after they were gone
to bed, that she might hear Mary pray
in the dark without a book. The mis-
tress accordingly went up that night,
and heard Mary praying aloud for her
master and mistress, and particularly
for the little child whom she used to
nurse. The mistress was much affect-
ed, and informed her husband of it.
IIe went up the next night, and heard
Mary’s fervent prayer, at which he was
so greatly affected that he afterwards
told his wife. with tears, that she must
not part with Mary. They ascertained
that the girl had learned to pray by at-
tending the Sunday school ; and on the
next Sunday evening the master, the
mistress, and Mary, all went to chapel
together. Thus Mary was confirmed
in her situation, and became the means
of bringing her master and mistress to
lttend a place of worship, which they

afterwards did regularly, and lecame
subscribers to the Sunday school.
397. Religious Benefits.
(a) AN AFFECTING MEETING.
—At the foot of a lofty hill, writes a
correspondent of an American periodi-
cal, crowned to the summit with the
richest verdure, a miserable mud cabin
peeped out from among encircling bush-
wood and stragg ing elms. A stillness
seemed to lie around the spot, and I felt
an indescribable sensation creep over
me as I drew near the house of mourn-
ing. I paused at the entrance. A low
murmuring kind of sound stole upon
my ear, and again all was hushed. I
gently opened the door, and bent ‘myself
forward, as if to ascertain, unnoticed,
what was passing within. I saw at the
first glance that death had been there.
The apartment on the threshold of which
Inow stood, was of the meanest con-
struction ; it was without a single piece
of furniture that deserved the name.
‘In one corner of it a dead body lay
stretched out, very slightly covered with
a tattered coat, and a cold kind of hor-
rible feeling ran through my very soul ;
and it would probably have shrunk
away from any further investigation, if
I had not been suddenly arrested by a
soft sweet voice, mingled with a low
groan, somewhat like a death-rattle,
that seemed to issue from the same
apartment. I turned my head around,
and beheld a sight that chained me, as
if by magic, to the ground. Oh, it was
heart thrilling to behold ! On a bundle
of straw, a woman, somewhat in years,
lay apparently in the agonies of death.
Near her head hung, reclining in deep
sorrow, a beautiful little half naked
child. On one side, a lovely girl, about
thirteen years of age knelt; a Bible
clasped in her thin slender hands, with
which she was endeavoring to comfort
her dying mother. I instantly recog-
nized two of my Sabbath school children.
The meeting was affecting. They had
been without food for some days. The
mother died next day, in the triumph of
that faith which her little daughter
taught her out of the Bible. The girls
grew up to be respectable members of
777
397
SABBATH SCHOOLS.
~— s _..-'-.-__ _-

society, and one of them has been a
teacher in a Sabbath school for several
ears.
(1)) THE SKEPTIC AND HIS
SON.-—A pastor's wife solicited a little
boy whose father was dissolute in his
habits and skeptical in his sentiments,
to attend the Sabbath school. He ob-
tained consent of his parents, came the
following Sabbath, and took his place in
the class. Books were served out to him
among the rest; he carried them home ;
.hey were read. This had a tendency
to draw his father out to church, to hear
preaching, and lectures on the subject
01 temperance. At one of the lectures,
the pastor presented the pledge to him
-—he signed it with his own hand. Very
soon the pastor was sent for to pray and
converse with him on the subject of re-
ligion. In short, he found the husband
and wife both deeply convicted on ac-
count of their sins! They were con-
verted, baptized, and added to the church.
They both honored their profession.
The husband became an active, zealous
member of the church. His efforts
were untiring, his prayers simple, fer-
vent and effective.
(0) MY SON IS MY SPIRITUAL
FATHER.—-At a Wesleyan class meet-
ing, a man rose and addressed the lead-
er thus :—“ I am very thankful to God,
and to you, for your Sunday school.
My son, who now sits beside me, is my
spiritual father. He heard me cursing,
while in a state of drunkenness, and
said to me, ‘ O father! my teacher said
to-day, at the Sunday school, that nei-
ther drunkards nor swearers could enter
into heaven.’ This so affected my mind,
that from that time I was enabled, by
the grace of God, to leave off those
Wicked practices; and both myself and
my son are new members of your soci-
ety.” He then laid his hand on his
son’s head, and repeated, “My son is
my spiritual father.”
(d) “SPELLING REPENTANCE.”
-—-In one of the counties in England, cel-
ebrated for its valuable mines, there
lived a collier, grossly ignorant of di-
vine things; and the doctrines of the
gospel were totally unknown to him.
From his habits of vice, and aversion to
the uorship of God, there seemed little

hope tha“ any moral change could be
effected i.1 him. But that which to man
seemed so doubtful, God was pleased to
accomplish in a way exce adingly simple.
yet truly marvelous. Destitute, as he
appears to have been, of concern for his
spiritual welfare, he was induced to
permit the attendance of his children
at a Sunday school, conducted on reli-
gious principles ; where the children
were taught to practise moral duties,
and instructed in the essential doctrines
of Christianity. It pleased God to visit
one of the daughters of this wicked fa-
ther with mortal sickness; but, before
her death, she was instrumental in ex-
citing the attention of her parent to the
concerns of his soul. “ Father,” in-
quired the dying child, “can you spell
repentance?” This artless question,
through the blessing of God, was effect-
ual to awaken concern. “ Spell repent-
ance I” repeated the astonished father ;
“ why, what is repentance '?” Thus he
became desirous of knowing, and ulti-
mately was taught its sacred meaning ;
and discovered that he had been a stran-
ger to it, both in theory and experience.
He also discovered that he needed repent-
ance ; that he was a guilty condemned
sinner, deserving God’s wrath and ever-
lasting misery; and repentance unto
life was granted to him. He spelled
out its divine import; and obtained an
acquaintance with that Savior whom
God has exalted to give repentance and
remission of sins ; and, by bringing
forth the fruits of righteousness, he, in
after life, supported and adorned his
Christian profession.
(e) A PIOUS BOY’S FIDELITY.
——-In New-York city a little boy lived,
who appeared to take little or no inter-
est in learning, so that he was pro-
nounced by his teachers a very dull
scholar. He learned to read but very
slowly, and finally neglected the school,
thinking he should never succeed.
There was a Bible class organized,
which he was induced o attend. And
here he soon began to manifest an inter-
est in the study of the Scriptures. He
learned to read well, which much as-
tonished his father, who was a very
wicked man. One Sabbath his f ‘her
tack some nails and a hammer 10 xi‘
778
BENEFITS r'1'O PARENTS, ETC.
-—-
£97
up a-fence, when he was reproved by
his little son, who spoke about working
on the sabbath day, and invited him to
attend public worship. The enraged
father drove him from his presence, and
threatened to punish him, if he ever
talked in that way again. The child
went away sorrowful. Not long after
this, as the little boy returned from pub-
lic worship, he went and looked over
his father’s shoulder, and observed that
he was reading I-Iume’s History of Eng-
land. He went into the middle of the
room, and said, “Father, where do you
expect to go when you die '2” Such a
question from such a child could not be
borne. “Away,” said he, “from my
presence immediately, or I will whip
you.” The child retired; but the fa-
ther was troubled. He went out to
walk, but still a load was pressing on
his agonizing soul. He thought of at-
tending public worship, for nothing else
seemed so likely to soothe his troubled
feelings. He entered while the minis-
ter was at prayer, and that day was the
beginning of better days to him. He
sought from God the forgiveness of his
sins, and soon obtained the hope of eter-
nal life.
A few years passed away, and the
old man was on his dying bed. His
son attended thim, constantly ministering
to his spiritual wants. To a Christian
minister the father said, “I am dying,
but I am going to heaven; and my son
has been the instrument of saving my
soul.” Soon his spirit was released to
be welcomed, as we have no reason to
doubt, into the mansions of glory. Hap-
py child I to be the instrument of saving
his father from death. Happy parent I
to be blessed with such a child.
THE SAILOR AND HIS
DAUGI-ITER.—-In conversation with a
respectable middle-aged seaman, at one
of the prayer-meetings of the Liverpool
Seamen’s Friend Society, a friend asked,
what first induced him to attend _to re-
ligion. After a pause of some mo-
ments, be related the following narra-
rive :--
I have been a sailor from a very ear-
ly age, and never thought about religion,
or the concerns of my soul, until my re-
turn from my last voyage. My home,

where I have resided eighteen years, is
at a village near VVorkington, in a
small cottage, the next to a neat chapel ;
but the people who go to this chapel b 1-
ing called by the neighbors, methodists,
I never would venture inside the door,
nor suffer my family to do so, if I could
prevent it. Iusually sail out of Liver-
pool. During the winter the vessel is
laid up. At those timesI return home
for a few weeks to my family. Having
a small family, and the times pressing
rather hard upon us, during my absence
last summer, my wife, endeavoring to
save a little, sent my eldest girl, about
six years of age, to the Sunday school
established at the cha} cl My stay,
when at home, being generally of short
duration, my wife might suppose it
would be no difficult matter to keep me
in ignorance of the circumstance.
I came from my last voyage before
Christmas, and went home. Being late
when I arrived, I had not the opportuni-
ty of seeing my eldest girl until the fol-
lowing day. At dinner time, when we
had sat down, I began to eat what was
before me, without ever thinking of my
heavenly Father, who provided my (lai-
ly bread ; but, glancing my eye towards
this girl, of whom I was dotingly fond,
I observed her to look at me with aston-
ishment. After a moment’s pause, she
asked me, in a solemn and serious man-
ner, “ Father, do you never ask a bless-
ing before eating?” Her mother ob-
served me to look hard at her, and hold
my knife and fork motionless (it was
not anger——it was a rush of conviction
which struck me like lightning) ; appre-
hending some reproof f1om me, and
wishing to pass it by in a trifling way,
she said, “Do you say grace, N anny.”
My eyes were still riveted upon the
child, for I felt conscious I had never
instructed her to pray, nor even set an
example, by praying with my family.
The child, seeing me waiting for her
to begin, put her hands together, and
lifting her eyes up to heaven, breathed
the sweetest p“ayer I ever heard.
This was too much for ‘ne; the knife
and fork dropped from my hands, and I
gave vent to my feelings in tears.
[Here a pause ensued, and he appear-
, ed much affected; on recovering him-
779
$97 SABBATH
SCHOOLS.
self, he continued.] I inquired who had
thus instructed the child. The mother
informed me the good people at the
chapel next door; and the child never
would go to bed, nor rise in the morning,
without kneeling down to pray for her-
selfi and her dear father and mother.
Ah ! thought I, andl never prayed for
myself or my children. I entered the
chapel in the evening, for the first time,
and continued to attend the means
of grace there. The Lord having
wakened me to a sense of my danger
through .he instrumentality of a dear
child, I am now seeking him with all
my heart, and truly canl say, I am
happy in the thought, that Jesus Christ
came ir.to the world to save poor
sinners, of whom I am chief.
(g-) THE GAMBLING FATHER.
-—Hannah Price, a poor girl, had been
instructed in a Sunday school. The
serious impressions made upon her
mind were soon visible ; and she show-
ed that she was converted to God.
Her father, though in his earlier years
he had received a better education than
the most respectable of the poor have
usually obtained, had become the com-
panion of the most profligate men in
his native village, and, by degrees, the
worst of them all. The alehouse, at
night, received the earnings of the
day; and if any part remained after
the guilty revels of the week, it was
spent on Sunday in the same haunt of
vice. His wife never reproached him,
and only endeavored to lure him from
such society, and such practices, by
the comforts of home. But his home
was the scene of his greatest misery;
for there he had time to reflect, and
there he was surrounded by the wife
and children whom he was daily inju-
ring.
One Sunday evening, after drink-
ing and gambling all the day, and hav-
ing lost all the earnings of the week,
he turned from his companions, and
scarcely knowing wha he did, took the
road homewards. One of them called
to him to return, entreated him to have
one more game, and added,
“ Why, you will be sure to win it
all back, you know.”

He stopped—“ Why, if I could get
it back,” said he to himself.
“ Come, come,” said his companion.
“ one more game, only one.”
“ No,” said Price; “ I’ve lost all
my money, and so I can’t if I would.”
But at that moment it occurred to him,
'.hat all his quarter’s rent, except what
was to be made up out of his last
week’s work, had been put in a cup-
board, in the kitchen at home; and
that if he could get that, he should be
sure to win back all he had lost. The
money was to be paid the next day,
and, hardened as he was, he trembled
at what he was going to do, and was
terrified lest his wife and children should
see him.
He approached the house, then ven-
tured to look in at the window, and per-
ceiving no one, he entered the kitchen,
and went hastily up to the cupboard.
It was locked, and he felt a momentary
relief in the thought that he could not
get the money. But again he said to
himself, I shall be sure to win ; and he
hastened softly up stairs to look for the
key, thinking he knew where his wife
had put it. As he passed the room in
which the children slept, he thought he
heard a faint noise, and, listening he
heard several sobs, and then a voice.
It was poor little Hannah, praying that
her father might see the error of his
ways, that God would change his heart,
and make him a comfort to her mother,
and to them all. Her sighs and tears
seemed almost to impede her utterance ;
and when he heard her call him her
“dear, dear father,” and felt how ill he
had deserved such a name, he could
scarcely forbear groaning aloud, in the
anguish of his feelings. He forgot the
key, crept to his bedroom, and fell on
his knees. He uttered not one word,
but the language of the heart is audible
in the ears of Mercy; and that evening,
for the first time, it might be said of
him, “Behold he rayeth.”
(h) LEAVING ALL FOR CHRIST.
—A large family, who resided a few
miles from the city of N ew-York, were
accustomed entirely to neglect both the
church and the Sabbath school 5 in fact,
the father and mother were very much
780
CONNECTION WITH THE MINISTRY AND MISSIONS.
398
opposed to religious instruction of any
kmd. It so happened, however, that a
little daughter of these parents became
connected with a sabbath school, and
was soon very much interested in the
instruction she received. When her
father heard of her attending the school,
he forbade her going again; but the lit-
tle girl supposing that he was not really
in earnest, continued to go. At length,
the father, mother, brothers and sisters
threatened in decided terms to turn her
out of the house, if she should again be
seen at the sabbath school. She, how-
ever, when Sunday morning came,
dressed herself as usual, except putting
on her bonnet. When the hour arrived
for the school to commence, she went to
her father, and taking him by the hand,
said, “Father, I love you, but I love Je-
sus Christ more, so I now bid you fare-
well !” She then took leave of her mo-
ther in the same way, and of her bro-
thers and sisters, and left them for the
school. The warmth of regard of their
little daughter for religious instruction,
touched a tender chord in the bosom of
the father, notwithstanding his apparent
hard-heartedness: he did not repeat his
prohibition, but followed silently after
her to the school——went in—and, on
witnessing the instructions given to the
children, became at once reconciled
towards his daughter, and interested in
the school. The ‘next sabbath he per-
suaded his wife to accompany him, and
she was pleased also; and, finally, the
whole family became not only interested
in the sabbath school, but useful and ac-
tive members of the church. This lit-
tle girl, in following the dictates of her
conscience, little thought that she should
be the means of bringing her father,
mother, brothers and sisters to the know-
ledge of the truth. But God in his in-
finite goodness, saw fit to make her the
instrument in bringing about such a
blessed result.
Connection of Sabbath Schools with
tho Ministry and Missions.
(a) THE BEREAN CLASS.--A
writer speaking of a certain Sabbath
school in Boston, says: “One of the
former teachers in that school, is now
398
—-
settled in the ministry in this vicinity ;
another is a useful printer in the Sand-
wich Islands ; another is a superintend-
ent of a Sabbath school in this city;
and a fourth is studying at Andover, to
fit himself for teaching in a day school.
One of the former pupils is new study-
ing with reference to the ministry ; two
others are far advanced in their college
course, and one of these will probably
become a herald of that Gospel which
he loves.
(Z2) VARIOUS INSTANCES.-It
is said, that of the missionaries who
have gone from Great Dritai. to the
heathen, nineteen twenneths became
pious at the Sabbath schools; and that,
of the orthodox ministers in England,
who are under forty years of age, more
than two-thirds became pious at the
Sabbath schools.
Henderson and Patterson, who have
done such wonders on the continent, in
regard to the Bible cause, it is said, re-
ceived their first impressions at Sabbath
schools. The celebrated Dr. Morrison,
missionary in the vast empire of China-
who has translated the whole Bible into
Chinese, a language spoken by the
largest associated population on the
globe, became pious at a Sabbath
school! O! who can tell, how many
Brainerds, and Buchanans, and Mor-
risons, and Martyns, and Harriet New-
els God is training in these schools, to
become the blessed instruments of re-
novating the world! !
(0) ROBERT MAY AND HIS
SCHOOL.--Robert May was the son
of a common mariner, in indigent cir-
cumstances. He was sent to the Sun-
day school at ‘Wood bridge (Eng), where
he obtained his education, and greatly
improved his privileges.
One Lord’s day morning, as the mi-
nister was going to the meeting-house,
Robert put into his hand a humble peti-
tion, requesting that he might be per-
mitted to be a teacher in the Sunday
school; an oflice in which he after-
wards appeared to be both happy and
useful.
On the eleventh of March, 1806,
when he was seventeen years of age,
he was admitted a member of the inde
pendent chapel at Woodbridge.
781
398
SABBATH SCHOOLS.

_-~4-_‘
Robert now felt an earnest desire to
go abroad as a missionary. He often
told his minister that he thought there
were plenty of teachers at home, and
that he should like to go abroad, to
teach poor black children to read the
Bible, and to learn hymns and cate-
chisms.
After being eminently useful inim-
proving and extending the Sunday
school system in the United States, his
final destination was Chinsurah, in the
neighborhood of Calcutta. Here he
spent his time chiefly in instructing the
children of the poor benighted heathen
in the great principles of Christianity,
and in other parts of useful knowledge.
In connexion with his other exertions,
he published a small volume of ser-
mons, which he had preached to chil-
dren, and which have since been re-
printed in England.
He had three thousand children
under his care, and was about to add
two thousand five hundred more to that
number, when he was seized by a vio-
lent fever, which, in a few days, ter-
minated his valuable life, and brought
him to the house appointed for all
livin .
(cl) HANDS’ TESTIMONY.--At
a public meeting, the Rev. I/V. Hands,
a missionary in the East Indies, ob-
served that, “he owed every thing to
Sunday schools; for it was there that
the heavenly spark had first caught his
soul; it was there that he had first
lifted up his voice for the purpose of
imparting Christian instruction to others.
If it had not been for that opportunity, he
should probably never have offered him-
self to the Missionary Society. There-
fore, again hc said, that he had every
reason to bless God that he had begun
by being a Sunday school teacher, es-
pecially as he believed that it was
principally through the labors of Sun-
day schools, that the Gospel of the Re-
deemer was extended throughout the
world.
(e) MUNDY’S TESTIMONY.——
On the same occasion, the Rev. George
Mundy, missionary at Chinsurah, in the
East Indies, states that he might truly
say. that if he had never been a Sun-
_— — -_¢--_—_—-‘--.-_-_---—-———.‘
day school teacher, he should nevel
have been a missionary.
(f ) KN ILL’ S TESTIMONY.—The
Rev. Richard Knill wrote from St. Pe-
tersburgh, in 1819, as follows: “As an
individual, I feel peculiarly indebted to
such institutions, and to the glory of
God I record it, that all the blessings
which have been given to others,
through my instrumentality, may be
traced up to a Sunday school. It was
my privilege to be a teacher in a Sun-
day school at Bideford : hearing a ser-
mon preached in behalf of the institu-
tion led me first to think of being a
missionary. Most of my fellow-students
at Axminster hat. been Sunday school
teachers; and out of twenty missiona-
ries, V.’I1O were my colleagues at Gos-
port, three-fourths of them had been
engaged in the same way.
(g) PHILlP’S TESTIMONY.-
At the annual meeting of the Sunday-
School Union, in May, 1829, the Rev.
Dr. Philip, missionary from the Cape of
Good Hope, stated that he commenced
his labors in the church of Chris‘. as 1
Sunday-school teacher. The first prayer
that he offered up in the presence of
others, was in a Sunday-school. The
first attempt he ever made to speak from
the Holy Scriptures was in a Sunday-
school. And he was fully persuaded,
that had it not been for his humble ex-
ercises in the capacity of a Sunday-
school teacher, and the advantages he
there acquired, he should never have
had the confidence to become a minister
of the gospel, or a missionary of Jesus
Christ. He informed the meeting, fur-
ther, that when he commenced his minis-
terial labors in Aberdeen, he felt the im-
portance of promoting Sunday school
instruction ; and the benefits which had
resulted from the schools established in
that town were, at the present moment,
incalculable. During the period that
he labored there, twelve or fourteen
young men went out into the field of
ministerial labor, many of whom became
missionaries. One of them was the la-
mented Dr. Milne, and the other was the
amiable Keith. Several other ministers
owed their first religious impressions to
the tuition they received in Sunday-
schools.
782
MISCELLANEOUS.
398,399
I"-_
(h) FOURTEEN MINISTERS
FROM A CLASS.—-Mr. Clark, af-
terwards schoolmaster at Sierra Leone,
.aught a Sunday school at Edinburgh.
|I1s method of giving instruction Was,
after the pupils had read, or repeated a
portion of Scripture, to put such explan-
atory and practical questions to l'.l'll-H1 as
naturally arose out of the passage, and
to conclude with a short address and
prayer. Of one class, consisting of six-
teen boys, fourteen of them at adult age,
were brought to the saving knowledge of
God, and acknowledged the early in-
struction he had given them as the
means of their conversion. The whole
of these were afterwards engaged in
preaching the gospel, some of them in
Great Britain, and others in foreign
lands.
(1') REPORT OF BATH UN-
ION .—The Bath Sunday school Union
Report, of 1824, gives the pleasing in-
formation, that several missionaries, and
upwards of twenty other persons, had
been called out of its schools, to preach
“ the glorious gospel of the blessed God.”
j THE ORPHAN HOUSE
SUNDAY SCHOOL.——At a meeting
of teachers conected with the N ewcastle-
on-Tyne Sunday School Union, in 1823,
an old teacher observed that he had
known the Orphan House Methodist
Sunday school for twenty-one years ;
and that, during this period, no less a
number than twenty-six preachers had
issued from it, either from the scholars
or the teachers. Can there be a stronger
proof of the utility of Sunday schools?
(It) THE CLERGYMAN’S VIS-
IT.-—I was, one Sabbath afternoon, says
a superintendent, about to close the
school in which I was engaged, when a
well-dressed genteel person, who pre-
sented himself as a visitor, requested me
to allow him to speak to the children.
This being readily granted, he address-
ed them nearly to the following effect:
There was once a poor lad, who was
noted, even among his sinful compan-
ions, for wickedness, but especially for
swearing and Sabbath breaking. He,
along with others, resolved, one Sabbath,
to pelt some steady boys who were going
to their school. However, it so happen-
ed, that the 1ds, on being attacked, ran

away; this lad followed them to the
very doors of the sch 001, which, when
opened, as they were then singing, such
a sound came from the place as seemed
to stun him. He wondered what they
could be doing inside 5 and a teacher at
that moment admitted the other boys,
and invited him in. A new scene now
opened itself upon him; nearly three
hundred boys, seated with their teachers.
They all appeared so neat and clean,
and in such order that he wished he was
“one of them.” He stood, for some
time, a spectacle for the whole school
dirty and raggeo, and with his wooden
clogs on. After some consultation, it
was resolved to admit him into the A
B C class. Every thing was new to him.
The next Sabbath he appeared, his hair
was combed, his face washed, and a
pair of shoes were given to him. He
now found himself so much behind the
other boys, that he resolved to strain
every nerve to get up to them. This
determination was the means of his ris-
ing to the very first class; when his
conduct being approved of, he was
chosen a teacher. He now felt he had
something more to do than to teach;
he had a soul to be saved or lost. In a
little time he was enabled, after much
prayer, to believe on the Lord Jesus
Christ, and to rejoice in his salvation.
The Lord then called him to preach
these glad tidings, and happening some
time after to ofiiciate within twenty
miles of his own much beloved school,
he rode hard, after the morning’s labors,
and reached the place just in time to see
the poor lads in his own, very own
school ;—--and here he is now speaking
to you.
The scene now became truly affect-
ing; he burst into tears, as did several
others around him; at last, he sobbed
out, “ O, my dear lads, be in right good
earnest to make the most of your very
great Sabbath school privileges ; I have
kept you too long i” He then conclud-
, ed with a most affecting prayer.
899. Miscellaneous.
(ct) CHIEF JUSTICE MAR.
SHALL AND JUDGE VVASHING.
TON.-—-Chief Justice Marshall and
783
399
SABBATH SCHOOLS.

the late Judge Washington, of the
Supreme Court of the United States,
were both active in the Sabbath school
cause. At the age of seventy, the
chief justice regarded it as his high
honor to walk through the city of Rich-
mond at the head of a Sunday school
procession.
(b) EFFECT OF FAITHFUL
NESS.-—“A class,” says the report
from F , Mass., “consisting in all of
six scholars, usually numbering three
or four on the Sabbath, was left vacant
by the removal of its teacher, who
might be denominated a good common-
place teacher. Her place was supplied
by one who felt the solemn respon-
sibility of her station and the worth of
souls. Her influence was soon seen
and felt. Numbers flocked to her class.
in a short time it increased from six to
fourteen, and others were necessarily
denied admission. A deep interest and
general seriousness soon pervaded the
whole class. This was evidently the
result of direct and personal conversa-
tion with them on the subject of their
salvation. In a short time this devoted
teacher was obliged by ill health to re-
sign her place to another; the class has
now lost much of its interest in spiritual
things, and has gradually dwindled
away to nearly its former number.
This instance goes to show that even
the thoughtless have a disposition to
covet and listen to the instructions of
those who deal faithfully with their
souls.”
(c) THE THREE CLASSES AND
THE THREE RESOLUTlONS.—-
In the State of New-York, a pious
young lady was once requested by the
superintendent to take a class of girls
in the Sabbath school. She accepted
the invitation and engaged in the work.
She was observed to be very earnest,
faithful and affectionate with her charge.
Soon a change was observed. One
after another became thoughtful, se-
rious, anxious and hopefully pious, un-
til, in the judgment of charity, every
member of her class was converted to
God.
She was at length requested to give
up her class, and to take another, none
784

.- -
of whom were pious. With some hesi-
tation she at length consented. She
had not been in her new class long be-
fore similar effects were observed, and
ultimately every member of the class
cherished a hope in Christ. She was
finally induced to give up this class also
to be instructed by others, and to take
another class, all of whom were uncon-
verted. She had not labored long be-
fore precisely the same results followed
her labors as before, and every mem-
ber of this third class became hopefully
pious. And now her work was done.
Her Master called her to her rest in
heaven. She died, but her labors lived.
After her death, her friends, on exa-
mining her religious journal, found the
following resolutions, viz.--RESOLVED,
that I will pray once each day for each
member of my class by name. On look-
ing farther in the journal, they found
the same resolution re-written and re-
adopted, with a slight addition, as follows,
viz.—REsoLvED, that I will pray once
each day for each member of my class
by name, and agonize in prayer.
Looking on mll farther in her jou"-
.,,nal, the same resolution was again found
re-written and re-adopted, with another
slight addition, as follows, viz.--Re
SOLVED, that I will pray once each day
for each member of my class by name,
and agonzze in prayer, and expect a bless-
ing. Did that teacher do too much and
pray too much’.2 What answer would
her glorified spirit now give could she
speak to us ?
(cl) DYING TEACHER MISTAK-
EN.--Mr. M. was for many years a
pious and indefatigable Sunday school
teacher. It pleased God to call him to
suffer severe afliiction, and to an early
death. During his long affliction, though
it was painful even to see him walk, he
went to his class, nor would he resign
as long as he could possibly reach the
school. “ It was my happiness,” says
a writer in the ‘ Teacher’s Magazine,’
“to Visit him during his trying illness;
and the calmness of his mind under
affliction, and his triumphant departure,
I never shall forget. Nor shall I cease
to remember another circumstance.

Turning to me, and with something like
MISCELLANEOUS.
399
despondency, he said, ‘ Well, I believe
I never was useful as a Sunday school
teacher.’
“ Some short time after his death, I
visited a Sunday school in a small town
some distance from that in which Mr.
M. had lived. I soon recognized among
the teachers one who had been a Sun-
day scholar; I conversed with him and
bund that he was a professor of religion,
and a member of a Christian church in
that town. I congratulated him upon
his employment, and inquired by what
means he had been led to love the Lord
Jesus Christ’.2 He replied, ‘The ad-
vice which my teacher again and again
gave me, led me to reflection and to
prayer, and I hope was the means of
leading me to Christ.’ And who was
that teacher’.2 He replied, ‘Mr. M.’
Yes, that same dear friend, who, upon
a dying bed, said, he believed he had
never been useful as a Sunday school
teacheri’
(e) PRESIDENT HARRISON A
TEACHER. —- President Harrison
taught, for several years, in a humble
Sabbath school on the banks of the
Ohio. The Sabbath before he left
home for Washington, to assume the
duties of chief magistrate of the nation,
he met his Bible class as usual. And
his last counsel on the subject to his
gardener, at Washington, it may be
hoped, will never be forgotten by the
nation. When advised to keep a dog to
protect his fruit, he replied——“R.ather
set a Sunday school teacher to take care
of the boys.”
(f) EXAMPLE OF SEVERAL
STATESMEN.--A writer in the New-
York Journal of Commerce for 1844,
says ; “ The present Chancellor of the
University of N cw-York city, (Mr. Fre-
linghuysen,) was a Sunday school teach-
er while he held the office of Attorney
General of New Jersey, and afterwards,
while a Senator in Congress; and he
may still be seen cheerfully associating
with the humblest teachers.
The Hon. B. F. Butler was a Sun-
day-school teacher while holding the
office of Attorney General of the United
States, and has, at the present time, his
Bible class for young men.
And the visitor at Saratoga Springs,

‘In. ..._ _- ——--_
who will look into the Sunday school,
may there see the Hon. Chancellor of
the state of N ew-York (R. H. VValworth)
with other literary gentlemen, animating
the young in their Bible investigations.
Hon. Wm. Ellsworth, while gore:
nor of the state of Connecticut, instruct
ed a Bible class from Sabbath to Sabbath,
in one of the Congregational churches
of Hartford. He remarked that when
he quitted the gubernatorial chair in the
State-house and came before his class
to teach them the word of God, he felt
that he was not going down, but going
u .7’
(g) A GOOD RFSOLUTION.——
At the close of an Agent’s address to a
meeting in the western part of the state
of Massachusetts, in 1828, after alluding
to the fact that a neighboring town was
laboring to bring all into the Sabbath
school, that old and young, in the inter-
val of divine service, should be employ-
ed in teaching or studying the Bible, he
inquired whether it was not the duty of
the people of that place to follow an ex-
ample so worthy of imitation’.2 Some
with locks already white for the grave,
said they would become Sabbath-school
scholars, and, in accents tremulous with
emotion, gave thanks to God that they
could now come and enjoy the privileges
with which he was blessing their chil-
dren. The following resolution was
then almost unanimously adopted by
male and female, viz : That, in the opin-
ion (yf this meeting, it is the duty ty“ EVERY
PERSON, not prevented by the _providence
of God, to be connected with a Sabbath
school. And that we will do all in our
power to eflect this object.
(It) SCHOOLS IN VVALES.-—
A poor family, in Wales, had acquired,
by great industry, he sum of thirty
pounds. This, for greater security, as
they thought, they placed in the hands
of a person reported to be very rich;
but he shortly after“ ards failed, and
they lost their little all. They were
nearly broken-hearted ; and, from their
abject condition, did not like to be seen
in a place of worship. After some time,
however, their little boy found his way
to a Sunday school, was very attentive,
and went regiflarly for a long time.
At length he was taken very ill, and re:
50
785
399, 400
SATAN, AGENCY OF.

quested the teachers to come and pray
with him. He gradually got worse,
and it became evident to himself and
others, that he was soon to leave this
World. This little boy then told his pa-
rents he felt quite happy in the love of
God ; and said, that if he had not attend-
ed a Sunday school, he should have
known nothing of the Lord Jesus Christ.
He entreated, as his dying request, that
his mother would attend and take his
place in the Sunday school ; for, in
Wales. there are nearly as many adults,
or grown people, in the schools, as chil-
dren. The poor weeping mother con-
sented, and, after her little boy’s death,
attended where he used to sit ; the re-
sult of which was, that both she and her
husband became truly converted to God.
(i) EFFECT OF HAVING
ADULT SCHOLARS.——A gentleman,
speaking of a certain Sabbath school in
Massachusetts, says: The school em-
braces those of all ages, from 3 to 80.
With a few exceptions, the whole con-
gregation attend the school.
A more interesting school I have
never seen : all seem desirous of under-
4e0. SATAN,
(it) A HARD QUESTION.-
An islander in the South Seas, once pro-
posed the following query to the mission-
aries :—-“ You say God is a holy and a
powerful Being ; that Satan is the cause
of a vast increase of moral evil or wick-
edness in the world, by exciting or dis-
posing men to sin. If Satan be only a
dependent creature, and the cause of so
much evil, which is displeasing to God,
why does God not kill Satan at once,
and thereby prevent all the evil of which
he is the author ’.l” In answer he was
told, “that the facts of Satan’s depend-
ence on, or subjection to the Almighty,
and his yet being permitted to tempt
men to evil, were undeniable from the
declarations of Scripture, and the expe-
rience of every one accustomed to ob-
serve the operations of his own mind.
-|_ M
standing the word of God—and many,
I trust, that they may obey it. We
think that a deep interest is felt in con-
sequence of all being together. The
adults give character to the school. The
younger members feel the importance
of the study in which the older ones are
engaged.
The happy effects of the Sabbath
school in this town are perceptible in all
classes of persons. The aged have
opened their eyes upon a new world.
The Bible has become the delightiul
study of many who, till within th1ee
years, scarcely ever perused it: those
who are past the meridian of life often
remark to me that they find subjects of
thought and inquiry which never sug-
gested themselves to them till they
studied for the purpose of teaching oth-
ers, or to give answers to questions.
Our adult classes are on the plan of
mutual instruction—and I think there is
quite as much interest manifested among
them as among the youth. This has
had a very salutary effect on the young-
er scholars.
AGENCY OF.
Such an one, it was observed, would
often find himself exposed to an influ-
ence that could be attributed only to
satanic agency; but that why he was
permitted to exert this influence on man,
was not made known in the Bible.”
(b) “THE DEVIL IS I/VROTH.”
—“ I asked the Rev. Legh Richmcna ”
says one, “how we were to reconcile
the increase of religion with the acknow-
ledged growth of crime, as evinced in
our courts of justice’.2 He answered,
‘ Both are true. Bad men are becoming
worse, and good men better. The first
are ripening for judgment, the latter for
glory. The increase of wickedness is,
in this respect, a proof of the increase
of religion. The devil is wroth, know
ing that his time is short.’ ”
786
SELF-CONTROL.
401
—_~
401. SELF-CONTROL.
(a) THE MERCHANT AND THE
QUAKER.-—A merchant in London
had a dispute with a quaker respecting
the settlement of an account. The mer-
chant was determined to bring the ac-
count into court, a proceeding which
the quaker earnestly deprecated, using
every argument in his power to con-
vince the merchant of his error ; but the
latter was inflexible. Desirous to make
a last effort, the quaker called at his
house one morning, and inquired of the
servant if his master was at home, the
merchant hearing the inquiry, and know-
ing the voice, called out from the top of
the stairs, “ Tell that rascal I am not
at home.” The quaker looking up at
him, calmly said, “ Well, friend, God
put thee in a better mind.” The mer-
chant, struck afterwards with the meek-
ness of the reply, and having more de-
liberately investigated the matter, be-
came convinced that the quaker was
right and he was wrong. He requested
to see him, and after acknowledging his
error, he said, “ I have one question to
ask you, how were you able, with such
patience, on various occasions, to bear
my abuse ’?” “ Friend,” replied the qua-
ker, “I will tell thee; I was naturally as
hot and violent as thou art. I knew that
to indulge this temper was sinful ; and I
found that it was imprudent. I observed
that men in a passion always spake
aloud ; and I thought if I could control
my voice, I should repress my passion.
I have, therefore, made it a rule, never
to let my voice rise above a certain key ;
and by a careful observance of this rule,
I have, by the blessing of God, entirely
mastered my natural temper.” The
quaker reasoned philosophically, and
the merchant, as every one else may do,
benefitted by his example.
(b) MARLBORO’ AND HIS SER-
VANT.—--The Duke of Marlborough
possessed great command of temper,
and never permitted it to be ruflied by
little things, in which even the greatest
men have been occasionally found un-
guarded. As he was one day riding

with Commissary Marriot, it began]
to rain, and he called to his servant fin‘
his cloak. The servant not bringing it
immediately, he called for it again.
The servant, being embarrassed with
the straps and buckles, did not come up
to him. At last, it raining very hard.
the duke called to him again, and askeo
him wha he was about, that he did not
bring his cloak. “ You may stay, sir,”
grumbled the fellow, “if it rains cats
and dogs, till I can get at it.” The
duke turned round to Marriot, and
said, very coolly, “ N ow I would not be
of that fellow’s temper for all the
world.”
(0) NEIIVTON AND HIS DOG._
Sir Isaac Newton’s temper, it is said,
was so equal and mild, that no accident
could disturb it. A remarkable in-
stance of which is related as follows :—
Sir Isaac had a favorite little dog,
which he called Diamond. Being one
evening called out of his study into the
next room, Diamond was left behind.
When Sir Isaac returned, having been
absent but a few minutes, he had the
mortification to find that Diamond had
overturned a lighted candle among some
papers, the nearly finished labor of ma-
ny years, which were soon in flames,
and almost consumed to ashes. This
loss, from N ewton’s advanced age, was
irreparable; but, without at all punish-
ing the dog, he exclaimed, “O, Dia-
mond, Diamond! you little know the
mischief you have done i”
(at) THE LOGICIAN’S DlGRES-
SION.—Of Mr. John Henderson, it is
observed, that the oldest of his friends
never beheld him otherwise than calm
and collected; it was a state of mind he
retained under all circumstances. Dur-
ing his residence at Oxford, a student of
a neighboring college, proud of his logi-
cal acquirements, was solicitous of a
private disputation with the renowned
Henderson ; some mutual friends intro-
duced him, and, having chosen his sub-
ject, they conversed for some time with
equal candor and moderation; but
Henderson’s antagonist, perceiving his
confutation inevitable, (forgetting the
787
101, 402
SELF-DECEPTION
character of a gentleman, and with a
resentment engendered by his former
arrogance,) threw a full glass of wine
in his face. Henderson, without alter-
ing his features or changing his position,
gently wiped his face, and then coolly
replied, “ This, sir, is adigression ; now
for the argument.”
(e) THE HARDEST FOE.-Peter
the Great made a law in 1722, that if
any nobleman beat or ill-treated his
slaves, he should be looked upon as in-
sane, and a guardian should be appoint-
ed to take care of his person and of his
estate. This great monarch once struck
his gardener, who, being a man of great
sensibility, took to his bed, and died in
a few days. Peter hearing of this, ex-
claimed, with tears in his eyes, “ Alas!
I have civilized my own subjects; I
have conquered other nations; yet I
have not been able to civilize or to con-
quer myself.”
SELF-CONTROL OF SOC-
RATES.-—Socrates finding himself in
great emotion against a slave, said, “I
would beat you if I were not an-
gry.” Having received a box on the
car, he contented himself by only say-
ing with a smile, “ It is a pity we do
not know when to put on a helmet.”
Socrates meeting a gentleman of rank
in the streets, saluted him, but the
gentleman took no notice of it. His
friends in company observing what pass-
ed, told the philosopher “they were so
exasperated at the man’s incivility, that
they had a good mind to resent it.”
But he very calmly made answer, “ If


- _.'--~
you meet any person in the road in a
worse habit of body than yourself, would
you think you had reason to be enraged
at him on that account ; pray then, what
greater reason can you have for being
incensed at a man for a worse habit of
mind than any of yourselves '2”
His wife, Xantippe, was a woman of
a most fantastical and furious spirit.
At one time, having vented all the re-
preaches upon Socrates her fury could
suggest, he went out and sat before the
door. His calm and unconcerned be-
havior but irritated her so much the
more; and in the excess of her rage,
she ran up stairs and emptied a vessel
upon his head ; at which he only laugh-
ed, and said, “that so much thunder
must needs produce a shower.” Alci-
biades, his friend, talking with him
about his wife, told him he wondered
how he could bear such an everlasting
scold in the same house with him: he
replied, “I have so accustomed myself
to expect it, that it now offends me no
more than the noise of carriages in the
streets.”
(g) A GREAT CONQUEST.—-Am
tigonus, king of Syria, during one of
his campaigns, one day overheard some
of his soldiers reviling him behind his
tent. But instead of summoning them
to appear and answer for their contume-
Iy, and exercising his authority in their
punishment, he barely drew aside the
curtain of his tent, and said, “Gentle-
men, just remove to a greater distance, for
your king hears you.”
402. SELF-DECEPTION.
(a) THE CHURCH MEMBER’S
EXCUSE FOR DRUN KEN NESS.-—
In the town of , in the State of
New-York, there lived a man who oc-
casionally drank to intoxication. He
was a professor of religion; and as
private admonitions proved ineffectual,
he was at length brought before the
church. The evidence of his intem-
perance was clear and unquestionable;
but that he might not be condemned
without the privilege of defence, he was


I
permitted, before the final vote was
taken, to say what he could in vindica-
tion of his conduct. He arose and ac-
knowledged his offence, apparently with
the deepest contrition, and entreated his
brethren (tears all the while falling
down his cheeks) that they would not
excommunicate him from the church,
alleging, as a. reason for the helpless
state in which he was sometimes found,
that“ his constitution required more spiru
than his legs would hear up under !”'
788
SELF -DECEPTION.
(l2) THE MORALIST CONVERT-
ED.——Mr. B. had received a highly re-
ligious education, and from earliest
years had been surrounded with pious
connections. So great was his respect
for religious ordinances, and his con-
viction of the importance of maintain-
ing its forms, that for years he heart-
lessly ofliciated at the family altar. By
this means, by regular attendance on
the sanctuary, and by his blameless
deportment, his friends were led, in the
blindness of their charity, to believe
him a truly pious man. Hence, With-
out any inquiry into his inward experi-
ence, they often urged him to join the
church. But some secret misgivings
led him to decline 5 yet, as he has since
remarked, that it was his prevailing
opinion, that he was better than many
professors of religion. Indeed, such
was the influence of the opinions of his
friends over him, that he gradually fell
into the belief, that at some former
period he had, unawares, passed from
death unto life. While in this state of
mind a revival commenced in the con-
gregation of which he was a member,
with great power. Striking instances
of painful conviction and joyful con-
version passed under his observation.
The officiating clergyman appointed an
evening lecture, near Mr. B.’s residence.
With accustomed hospitality, Mr. B. in-
vited the minister home with him after
the lecture. After some general re-
marks, Mr. B. took occasion to dwell
upon the inconsistencies of professors
of religion. Little or no reply was
made.
At length he began to expose his own
views and feelings respecting what he
thought true religion. But, much to his
disappointment, the clergyman waived
the subject with some indefinite reply.
Mr. B. thought he discovered, in this
unexpected silence, that his guest (as
was the fact) considered his religion
suspicious, which not a little disturbed
his quiet. And this incident, slight as
it may seem, was the means, apparently,
of apprising this man of the complete
deception under which he and others
had labored, respecting the true state
of his heart. He was now constrained
to explore its dark recesses; and the
402
- L-
more he examined, the more he was
convinced, that he had for years been
wrapping himself in a delusion; that
the foundation of his hope was a lie.
He soon became more deeply sensible
to his own sins than to the sins of pro-
fessors of religion, or of any other hu-
man being. At length he submitted, as
he believes, to the conditions .f divine
grace ; and continued afterwards to re-
joice in the God of his salvation. “ Oh!
I shudder,” said he, to a friend, “at the
thought of my HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPE.
How easy, how easy to be deceived in
the belief that we are Christians, without
the least spark of vital piety !”
(0) THE RUM-DRINKER’S CON-
VERSION .-—During the revival at S.,
says Rev. Mr. N ettleton, I witnessed an
instance which, if you please, I will re-
late. Mr. A. was one of the most re-
spectable men in that village, about
thirty years of age, who kept a large
boarding-house. His wife was under
deep conviction, and soon was rejoicing
in hope, and prayed with and for her
husband. This was the means of his
conviction; though, at the time, it was
not known. Report said he was con-
fined to his bed, and dangerously ill.
Hints were privately circulating that
ghe was anxious for his soul, and was
ashamed to have it known. It was late
in the evening, when Brother G. went
to his house, and found him in a bed-
room, in a remote corner, in the great-
est agony. “ VVhat is the matter '2"
said Brother G. “ Oh, I am sick! I
am in such distress !” “ But your pulse
is regular. Where is your pain ?”
He made no reply; but with violence
smote upon his breast. He was asked,
“Is it there ’?” “It is,” he replied.
The next evening I called, and found
him still in the same distress. His
convictions appeared to be deep. But
when I returned, I suggested to Brother
G. a suspicion of the smell of ardent
spirits. I then related a number of
anecdotes of false conversions, connect-
ed with this suspicious scent. “ Mr. A.
is a very moral man,” said he, “ and
far from suspicion on that point.” But,
for fear, he sent me back to give him a
solemn caution. I returned, and with
much delicacy, warned him not to taste,
cf
789
403
SELF-DENIAL.
lest He seemed startled at my
suggestion, and assured me that he was
far from that habit. I requested his
wife to watch him, and learned from
her, that through his distress his strength
had greatly failed, and that he had
taken a very little, only, to prevent his
sinking entirely. I returned, and ob-
served to Brother G. that I feared Mr.
A. was a ruined man. His concern
continued for a few days, when he be-
came exceedingly joyful. His con-
version was considered wonderful. But
my joy was checked. I could not for-
get the smell of ardent spirits. I called
and found him much elated with joy.
But when I cautioned him, he seemed
surprised and somewhat offended, and
observed—-“I think I have been dis-
tressed enough to experience religion.”
“ Ah !” said I, “ now I doubt more than
ever whether your heart has ever been
changed. Do you think there is any
merit in the distress of an awakened
sinner? Suppose you had been to hell,
and endured the torments of the damn-
ed ; what then '2 It is not distress, but
love to God and a change of heart

w~ww
which alone can fit the sinner for hea.
ven.” After a little conversation, his
heart rose in such opposition, that he
relinquished his hope. His distress re-
turned in a moment, and he cried out
“ VVhat shall I do '2” His heart was
evidently unrenewed, and still quarrel-
ing with the justice of God. From
some expressions, I caught a glimpse of
his heart; and that if he should ever
experience religion, it was his secret
purpose never to make a public pro-
fession of it. He was evidently un-
humbled, like a bullock unaccustomed to
the yoke. I put into his hands “Ed-
wards on the Justice of God -in the
Damnation of Sinners.” Shortly, he
again found relief. He Wished to pro-
fess religion with others, but prudence
led us to wait; and the result was, that
in progress of time he became a set.
I know not of a more hopeless be-
ing on earth. He does no business;
has drunk himself out of his property,
and almost out of his reason; and, as
Brother G. says, he has become a
brute.
403. SELF-DENIAL.
(a) TRANSCRIBING FROM
DODDRIDGE.-—-The Southern Relig-
ious Telegraph states that Miss T ,
of county, who was very thought-
less, was induced by a friend to promise
that she would read the “ Rise and Pro-
gress.” For many weeks she postponed
it ; but at length became interested for
her soul, and took up the work and read
it with care. Her feelings followed
those of the writer generally, and with
as little opposition as could be expected
until she came to the 17th chapter.
That is styled the “ self-dedication chap-
ter.” While transcribing this chapter,
according to the author’s direction, to
make it her own act——consecrating her-
self to Jehovah’s service for time and
forever—she hesitated. Her wicked
heart arose in opposition.


I
l
l

l
unwilling to surrender for that “ glitter-
ing crown of glory” which Christ prom-
ises to all those that love and serve him.
In great agony her pen was laid aside,
and for several days she refused to finish
the dedication chapter. One day, while
complaining to a sister (since gone to
rest) that she could find no peace, her
sister replied, “ Perhaps there is some-
thing you are unwilling to part with—--
some little thing that you will not give
up for the sake of an interest in Christ.
Remember, he requires entire consecra-
tion—-al .” She soon left her sister-
retired to her closet—-resolved to part
with her jewelry and all things else for
an interest in her Redeemer. She was
immediately able to finish transcribing
her chapter——light began to dawn upon
She could her soul-——and her proud spirit was
not surrender all to God. There was | humbled. Peace gradually dawned upon
a small portion of her earthly treasures; her mind, and as soon as an opportunity
9. little shining dnst—-used as ornaments presented, she united with the church,
of her perishing body which she was 1 and now walks in newness of life.
790
SELF-DENIAL.
403
-_-_.-.-__.¢ — y.___.

r_
(6) UN PURCHASED, UNSE-
DUCED.-—-The Marquis de Bougy, a
gallant general in the service of Louis
XIV, was greatly esteemed by that
monarch, and by his prime minister,
Cardinal Mazarin. He would have
made a great fortune, if he had been a
Roman Catholic; and he received sev-
eral letters from the queen and from the
cardinal, wherein they exhorted him to
change his profession, and thereby re-
move the obstacle which lay in the way
of his advancement. They also offered
him a marshal’s staff, and a considerable
government, provided he would become
a Roman Catholic. His answer was,
that if he could resolve to betray his
God for a marshal’s staff, he might be-
tray his king for a less advantage; but
that he would do neither of them, being
contented to see that his services were
acceptable, and that his religion was the
only reason why he was not rewarded
for them.
(0) THE EAR-RINGS SACRI-
FICED.—-“ A gentleman,” says Mr.
Knill, missionary at Petersburg, “ res-
ident on the shores of the Caspian, who
once cared nothing about Christ or his
cause, has, within a few years, become
a warm-hearted disciple. Knowing his
character, I wrote to him to assist me in
the distribution of the Holy Scriptures.
To my request he joyfully agreed; but
he did not think it sufficient to contribute
towards it himself, but he tried to enlist
others also in the good work. He men-
tioned it in particular to a pious lady
of his acquaintance, who had just before
received a present of a hundred roubles,
to purchase a pair of ear-rings. Fired
with the hope of promoting the eternal
happiness of her fellow creatures, she
determined to sacrifice her ear-rings to
the cause of God, and sent the hundred
roubles to me. Perhaps this was the
first time that ever her attachment to
the Savior had called for a sacrifice;
and it must be unspeakably gratifying
to her mind, when reviewing the trans-
action, to feel that she could part with
her orname its for h >r adorable Redeem-
er.”
(d) SELF-DENIAL OF VA-
RIOUS MARTYRS.--.t . "It PALMER,
'11’. Queen Mary’s days . t :5» and pre-

—-
ferment offered him, if he would recant
his faith in Christ. His answer was,
that he had resigned his living in two
places for the sake of the gospel, and
now was ready to yield his life on ac-
count of Christ.
VVILLTAM HUNTER, when urgel by
Bonner to recant, replied, he could only
be moved by the Scriptures, for he reck-
oned the things of earth but dross for
Christ; and when the sheriff offered him
a pardon at the stake, if he would re-
nounce his faith, he firmly rejected it.
Anromus RICETO, a Venetian, was
offered his life, and considerable weaah,
if he would concede but a L _le ; and
when his own son, with weeping entreat-
ed him to do so, he answered, that he
was resolved to lose both children and
estate for Christ.
The PRINCE or CONDE, at the mas-
sacre of Paris, when the King assured
him that he should die within three days,
if he did not renounce his religion, told
the monarch that his life and estate were
in his hand, and that he would give up
both rather than renounce the truth.
(e) PATRIOTIC THEOLOGI-
AN.-Mr. Weed, in one of his letters
from Scotland, says:
“While at Liberton, which place is
about two miles from the centre of Edin-
boro’, I was informed of an instance of
theological patriotism that would have
made the old “ Ca-meronian cow-feeder,”
were he alive, leap for joy. Observing
a dozen stone masons actively engaged
in putting up the walls of a small edifice,
at which as many persons were lookers
on, my cabman informed me that they
were building a new Kirk for a “ non-
intrusionist minister,” and on further
inquiry, I ascertained that this humble
temple was designed for an eloquent
preacher who, with a devotion worthy
of “Reuben Butler,” or even of the
stoutest Cameronians, who hid them-
selves in caverns during the “ persecut-
ing times,” had renounced a living of
$3,500 per annum, with a fine parson-
age-house and glebe, rather than com-
promise his principles.”
(f) THE CEYLONESE CON-
VERTS.-—The simplicity of many of
the heathen, when they receive the truth
of God in the love of it, is often very
791
I03, 404
SERVAN TS.


,-_
admirable. Rev. W. M. Harvard states,
in his narrative relative to Ceylon, that
when he was once addressing a native
congregation in the government school-
house at Pantura, from 1 John iii. 8, he
endeavored to show that the Kappooa
system was one of the works of the
devil which the Son of God came to de-
stroy; and urged their immediate re-
nunciation of all confidence in their vain
charms, and to commit the keeping of
their bodies and their souls to God.
Appealing to their understandings and
consciences, he inquired, “ Which of
you will now cast away these works of
the devil, and place himself under the
protection of the Son of God '2” He
looked round upon the congregation, as
for a reply. Presently a charm was
handed up to the pulpit, which had been ,
He held it :
up, and gave thanks to God, that in that
broken off for that purpose.
place he had begun to destroy these
works of the devil. He then repeated

W
the inquiry, “Who next '2” &c., and
two or three more abandoned charms
were handed up in a similar way. Be-
fore the close of the service, a handful
of them was in his possession.
(g) THE ONLY DRESS.--A
missionary in India says, “ I rode to
Nallamaram, and saw some people of
the congregation there, together with
the catechist. The clothes of one of the
women were rather dirty, and I asked
her about ' . “Sir,” said she, “I am
a poor woman, and have only this single
dress.” “ Well, have y.9u always been
so poor '2” “ No, I had some money
and jewels, but a year ago the Maravers
(thieves) came and robbed me of all.
They told me,” she said, “If you will
return to heathenism we shall restore you
every thing.” “ ‘Well, why did you not
follow their advice? Now you are a
poor Christian.” “ 0, Sir,” she replied,
“ I would rather be a poor Christian than
a rich heathen.”
404. SERVANTS.
ta) THE DESPISED CONGRE-
GATION.—A worldly man began to
taunt a celebrated preacher, and, among
other things, told him it was true his
congregation was large, but it was
chiefly made up of servants and low
people. “ I know it is,” said the saga-
cious divine; “ my church is composed
of such converts as Jesus Christ and
his apostles gained; and, as for ser-
vants,I had rather be instrumental in
converting them than their employers.”
“ I/Vhy so ?” inquired the man.
“Because,” observed the minister,
“they have the care of all the chil-
dren."
(b) DIDEROT’S SERVANT.—-
The Abbé Barruel, in the account he
gives of the closing scenes of Diderot’s
life, tells us, that he had a Christian
servant, to whom he had been kind, and
who waited upon him in his last illness.
This servant took a tender interest in
the melancholy situation of his master,
who was just about to leave this world,
without preparation for another. Though
a voung man, he ventured one day,

when he was engaged about his master’s
person, to remind him that he had a soul,
and to admonish him, in a respectful man-
ner, not to lose the last opportunity of at-
tending to its welfare. Diderot heard
him with attention, melted into tears,
and thanked him. He even consented
to allow the young man to introduce a
clergyman, whom he would probably
have continued to admit to his chamber,
if his infidel friends would have suffered
the minister to repeat his visits. Let
us be encouraged to attempt good under
the most unpromising circumstances,
and, in our different stations, to remem-
ber we are commanded to labor for the
welfare of those with whom we are
connected.
(0) MELANCTHON’S SERVANT.
—~Philip Melancthon, who is univer-
sally known as one of the reformers,
was highly esteemed for his great gene-
rosity. Indeed his friends were aston-
ished at his liberality, and wondered
how, with his small means, he could
afford to give so much in charity.
It appears to have been principally
792
SIN.
--
404-, 405

owing to the care and good manage-
ment of an excellent and faithful ser-
vant named John, a native of Sweden.
The whole duty of provisioning the
family was intrusted to this domestic,
whose care, assiduity and prudence am-
ply justified the unbounded confidence
reposed in him. He made the concerns
of the family his own, avoiding all
needless expenditure, and watching with
a jealous eye his master’s property.
He was also the first instructor of the
children during their infancy. John
grew old in his master’s service, and
expired in his house amidst the affec-
tionate regrets of the whole family.
During a service of thirty-four years,
how much usefulness was effected by
honest John, and by his master through
his instrumentality! Melancthon in-
vited the students of the university to
attend the funeral of his faithful ser-
vant, delivered an oration over his grave,
and composed a Latin epitaph for his
tombstone, of which the following is a
translation 2--
“ Here, at a distance from his native land,
Came honest J ohn, at Philip’s first command;
Companion of his exile, doubly dear,
Who in a servant found a friend sincere ;
And more than friend—a man of faith and
prayer,
Assiduous soother of his master’s care.
Here to the worms his hfeless bod y’s given,
But his immortal soul sees God in heaven.’
(d) A LIVING EPISTLE.—“ One
day, in my travels,” says Mr. Jay, “ I
405.
(a) FIVE DIRECTION S.—-“ Five
persons,” says Mr. Brooks, “ were stu-
dying what were the best means to
mortify sin; one said, to meditate on
death ; the second, to meditate on judg-
ment; the third, to meditate on the
joys of heaven ; the fourth, to meditate
on the torments of hell; the fifth, to
meditate on the blood and sufferings of
Jesus Christ; and certainly the last is
the choicest and strongest motive of all.
If ever we would cast off our despairing
thoughts, we must dwell and muse
mucn upon, and apply this precit us

heard of a servant who had attended a
Wesleyan chapel. This offended her
master and mistress, who told her that
she must discontinue the practice, or
leave their service. She received the
information with modesty, said she was
sorry, but so it must be ; she could not
sacrifice the convictions of her con-
science to keep her place. So they
gave her warning; and she was now
determined, if possible to be more cir-
cumspect and exemplary than ever;
determined that, if she suffered for her
religion, her religion should not suffer
for her. Some time after this, the mas-
ter said to the mistress, “ Why, this is
rather a hard measure with regard to
our servam; has she not a right to
worship God where she pleases as well
as ourselves Cl”
“ Oh, yes,” said the mistress; “ and
we never had so good a servant; one
who rose so early, and got her work
done so well, was so clean, and was so
economical, never answering again.”
And so they intimated that she might
remain. Some time after this the wife
said to her husband, “I think Mary’s
religion does her a great deal more
good than our religion seems to do us ;
I should like to hear her minister.”
And so she went, and was impressed ;
and prevailed upon her husband to go,
and he was impressed; and now they
are all followers of God, and have the
worship of God in their house.
SIN.
blood to our own souls ; so shall sorrow
and mourning flee away.”
(Z2) DEATH PREFERRED TO
SIN .--Count Godomar, a foreigner of
note, often professed, in the declining
part of his years, when death and the
eternal world seemed nearer, “ That he
feared nothing in the world more than
sin ; and whatever liberties he had for-
merly taken, he would rather now sub-
mit to be torn to pieces by wild beasts,
than knowingly or willingly commit
any sin against God.”
793
405,406
SIN.

(c) USHER’S LAST WORDS.-
SLNS OF OMISSION. — The last
words that Archbishop Usher was heard
to express, were, “ Lord, forgive my
sins, especially my sins of omz'ssion.”
(cl) THE lNFANT’S ANSWER.-
At a missionary station among the Hot-
tentots, the question was proposed, “ Do
we possess any thing that we have not
received of God ?” A little girl of
five years old immediately answered,
“ Yes, sir, sin.”
(e) “ THEY BROKE THE OR-
DER.”-—A poor villager in England
supplied an answer to the cavil of an
unbeliever ; he said, “ Time was, when
I got amongst a set of people who would
not believe the Bible, and I heard all
their objections, and some of them did
me great hurt; for I was not able to
answer them, and my belief became
almost as bad as theirs. I felt all the
time I was wrong, and I could see the
folly of some of their objections. They
asked me one day, how it could be sup-
posed that God would destroy Ada .1
and his descendants, only for eating an
apple '2 In my worst state I could see
that there was nothing in this often an-
swered and weak objection; it was not
that our first parents had only eaten of
some kind of fruit; it was that they
had disobeyed God 3 it was sir,” said
the poor man, “ that they broke the
order.”
NEVVTON’S OPINION. —
“ Many have puzzled themselves,” says
Mr. Newton, “ about the origin of evil ;
I observe there is evil, and that there is a
way to escape it, and with this I begin
and end.”
406. Sin Against the Holy Ghost.
a) THE INFlDEL’S CONFES-
SION.--Mr. F , the subject of the
following narrative, was a respectable
inhabitant of one of the northern towns
of Pennsylvania. -About seven years
previous to his death, Mr. W ,a
missionary, visited the town where Mr.
F resided. Under his faithful la-
bors, a revival of religion commenced,
in which numbers were hopefully born
mto the kingdom of the Reedemer.


b—‘
The attention of Mr. F was also
arrested. He was led to see his
sinfulness and danger, and to inquire,
“ what he must do to be saved.” His
convictions of sin were pungent for
some time, but, after a few months, his
seriousness began to abate. Levity and
profaneness succeeded, and, like the
unclean spirit who walked through dry
places, seeking rest and finding none,
Mr. F returned to a state of stu-
pidity seven times more dreadful than
before. He soon adopted the sentiment
of Universalism, and thence, as a na-
tural course, he descended to infidelity;
and, at length, boldly denied the in-
spiration of the Scriptures, and became
an avowed Deist. In this situation, he
was often asked by those acquainted
with his previous seriousness, what he
thought of his former convictions. He
uniformly imputed them to enthusiasm
or the work of the devil. The conse-
quence Was, as might have been ex-
pected, he became more and more con-
firmed in his infidel principles, until
about four or five months previous to
his death. It was at this time that the
writer first became acquainted with
him, and it was from his own lips, and
from his neighbors, that the above ac-
count of his life was received. On
reading to him the first nine verses of
the sixth chapter of the Hebrews, and
the last four verses of the second chap-
ter of the Second Epistle of Peter, he
was again awakened. The above
words were like “ a sharp two-edged
sword.” His infidel principles ap-
peared in a surprising manner to leave
him, and to be succeeded by a dreadful
sense of the threatenings of the Divine
law. The view which he had of his
sinfulness was great, and such an aw-
ful feeling of danger pervaded his mind,
that he trembled with fear. Great
pains were taken to instruct him into
the way of salvation by Jesus Christ,
and prayer was literally made inces-
santly for him. But all availed nothing,
his distress increased every day. After a
few weeks he appeared to be verging
fast to a state of complete despair. This
appeared to be accelerated by a fixed
opinion that he had committed the un-
pardonable sin. Pm~ come time he re-

794
SIN AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST.
400
fiised to tell the sin which he considered
unpardonable. After much importu-
nity, however, he said it consisted in
imputing to the devil his previous reli-
gious impressions. He was informed
that it might have proceeded from an
error in judgment, and not from delibe-
rate malice of heart. He decided that
this could not be the case, for when he
said that his former convictions were
enthusiasm and from the devil, he knew
they were produced by the Holy Spirit ;
that the above declaration proceeded
directly from enmity, and had sealed
his perdition. His distress and horror
of mind increased, until they arose to
the most alarming degree. At times he
appeared to be in as much mental
agony as he could possibly endure and
live. He often declared he felt the
very pains of hell in his bosom, and
that if his soul and body were then in
everlasting burnings, he could not suffer
more. All means used to relieve him
appeared only to increase the misery
and aggravate the horror of his mind.
Often with a countenance distorted with
all the features of despair, he would
entreat those :‘“8S€l1iZ never to quench
the Spirit, never to deny the work of
the Holy Ghost, or embrace the senti-
ments of infidelity, especially never to
impute revivals and awakenings to the
devil. His sufferings soon impaired his
health; he lost his appetite for food,
and sleep entirely forsook his eyes. A
fearful earnest of future misery took
deeper and stronger hold on his mind,
till at length reason reeled from her
throne, and he died by his own hand.
We suppose this to be a plain instance
of the sin against the Holy Ghost.
(b) DELIVERANCE FROM A
l)ELUSlON.—There are instances of
distressing fears on this subject, fears
which, as the event shows, were unfound-
ed. The following case is one; and one
of the many which might be cited to show
the truth of this. Mr. L had en-
ioyed the privilege of sitting under an
able and successful ministry. His
heart had been touched; and, during a
remarkable period, in which he saw
many of his friends embracing the hope
of salvation, his own convictions in-
creased. Not long after his feelings of

_->-
impatience became sensitive. His at’
tention was subsequently turned from
its own proper object to one more nearl)
connected with our natural selfishness.
He ceased to be an inquirer and be-
came an objector. It is hard to stop
here. Opposition succeeded a habit of
objecting. An apparent bitterness of
prejudice and malevolence of expres-
sion, were observable whenever he
opened his lips on the subject of reli-
gion. Still the past day of conviction
was a memorable time to him. Five
years afterwards he was again roused
to a sense of his danger. And with the
alarm came the frightful recollection of
his former conduct. Language which
he had uttered—and which appea. ed
nearly allied to blasphemy-returned
fresh to his memory. He accused him
self of having committed the unpardon-
able sin. All efforts to persuade him
to the contrary were unavailing. The
impression was daily deepening. His
mind lost its elasticity; and a moody
temperament succeeded. His friends
were alarmed. A suspicion was started
among them, that his conclusions might
be just. This he marked, and labored
to confirm it. He seemed to take a ne.
gative satisfaction in stating the despe-
ration of his case ; and in watching the
fallen countenance of sympathy.
Many months had transpired, during
which he was the subject of religious
gossip with some, of a kind of supersti-
tious dread with others, and of fervent
prayer with a few of the remainder ;—-
when the case was stated to a judicious
minister, whom Divine Providence had
called into the neighborhood. He waited
on Mr. L., who, far from being averse
to any conversation relative to his own
state, seemed rather to court it. He
was fluent in all his details of time and
circumstance; and always ended his
narrative with a declaration that he had
ceased for ever to pray. After a pre-
paratory interchange of remarks, he
was asked, “ You believe yourself
guilty of the unpardonable sin ?”
“I am sure of it.”
“ In what did the crime consist 'l’’
“I opposed the work of God.”
“ So did Saul.”
“ I denied Jesus Christ.”
795
£07
SLANDER.
,,-_,_Q
‘‘ So did a disciple afterwards honor-
ed '4 T his master.”
' I doubted the power of Jesus Christ
afiur strong evidence in his favor.”
" So did Thomas.”
" What’.2 are you attempting to prove
by <uch examples that I am a Chris-
tian 'l’’
‘‘ N ot at all: I am only inquiring in-
to the nature of your guilt; and thus
far I see no reason for despair.”
“ I have hated God,” rejoined the
self-condemned, “ and openly avowed
my enmity in sight of his Divine ope-
rations.”
“ Thus far your case is lamentable
indeed; but not hopeless still. Our
hearts are naturally at enmity with
God. And I do not see why the open
avowal of this, drawn out by the sight
of the Law into visible form, must ne-
cessarily and always constitute the
guilt of which you accuse yourself.”
“I feel that I am out off frm salva-
tion.”
“It is diflicult to reason against your
feelings.”
“ But are they no proof on the pre-
sent subject ’!”
“ Let me inquire whether you desire
the pardon of your sins '2”

“ Assuredly, if it were possible.”
“ Do you regret the conduct of which
you accuse yourself?”
“ Certainly.”
“ Do you sincerely desire repent-
ance '2”
“I would give the world if it were
mine to be able to do so.”
“Then it is not possible that you
have been guilty to an unpardonable
extent; for these are characteristics of
a state of mind faithless, but far from
being desperate. And they come with-
in the design of the Gospel invitations.”
There was something simple and
touching in this mode of ministering to
a mind diseased. And it produced an
effect which, probably, no other process
would have accomplished. Mr. L
did not long survive this interview.
But his living and dying were those 01
a favored Christian. Alas, that many
persons laboring under a like delusion
respecting the sin against the Holy
Ghost, should not be enlightened by si-
milar instruction ! Doubtless not a few
who never committed this sin, have
lived for years, and then died under the
horrible conviction, that they had thus
sinned away the day of grace.

407. SLANDER. I
(a) WAY TO AVOID CALUM-
NY.——“ If any one speaks ill of thee,”
said Epictetus, “ consider whether he
has truth on his side ; and, if so, reform
thyself, that his censures may not affect
thee.” When Anaximander was told
that the very boys laughed at his singing,
“ Ay,” says he “then I must learn to
sing better.” Plato being told that he
had many enemies who spoke ill of him.
“ It is no matter,” said he ; “ I will live
so that none shall believe them.” Hear-
ing at another time that an intimate
friend of his had spoken detractingly of
him, “I am sure he would not do it,”
said he, “ if he had not some reason for
it.” This is the surest as well as the
noblest way of drawing the sting out of
a reproach, and the true method of pre-
paring a man for that great and only re-

lief against the pains of calumny—-a
good conscience.
(b) BOERHAAVE’S ADVlCE.—
The celebrated Boerhaave, who hau
many enemies, used to say that he never
thought it necessary to repeat their cal
umnies. “ They are sparks,” said he,
“ which, if you do not blow them, wih
go out of themselves. The surest method
against scandal is to live it down by
perseverance in well-doing, and by
prayer to God, that he would cure the
distempered minds of those who traduce
and injure us.”
(c) XIMENES AND ADRIAN.-~
Adrian, the coadjutor of Ximenes in the
government of Castile, was much dis-
turbed at the libels which flew about
against them. Ximenes was perfectly
easy “If,” said he, “ we take the
796
SLANDER.
407
__’_II,___ --
liberty to act, others will take the liber-
ty to talk and write : when they charge
us falsely, we may laugh ; when truly,
we must amend.”
(d) DR. WAUGH’S REBUKES.
--Dr. Waugh, of London, had a great
dislike to every thing bordering on slan-
der or defamation. The following is
an illustration of his character in this
point ;—-
One of his people had traveled all
the way from Newton to his father’s
house, where he usually resided, to
communicate to him an unfavorable
I¢"Ol‘t concerning another member of
the congregation. Some friends being
with h'*n, this person was requested to
stay and dine with them. After dinner,
he took occasion, in a jocular manner,
to ask each person in his turn, how far
he had ever known a man travel to tell
an evil report of his neighbor; when
some gave one reply, and some another.
He at last came to this individual, but
without waiting for his self-condemning
reply, or unnecessarily exposing him,
he stated, that he had lately met with a
Christian professor, apparently so zeal-
ous for the honor of the church, as to
walk fourteen miles with no other object
than that of making known to his minis-
ter the failings of a brother member.
He then in a warm and impressive man-
ner enlarged on the praise of that chari-
ty which covers a multitude of sins;
which “rejoiceth not in iniquity, but
rejoiceth in the truth.”
The same excellent man being in
company with a number of ministers,
the bad conduct of a brother in the min-
istry became the subject of conversation,
and every gentleman in the room joined
warmly in condemning him. Dr.
Waugh sat for a time silent. At last
he walked up to his companions, and
said, “ My dear friends, surely we are
not acting in accordance with our pro-
fession. The person you speak of is
one of ourselves, and we ought not to
blow the coal. But do you know that
he is as bad a man as he is represented ?
and if he is, will railing against him do
any good '4 It is cowardly to speak ill of a
man behind his back ; and I doubt if
any of us would have suflicient courage,
if our poor friend were to appear among


‘,-q’-_
us, to sit down and kindly tell him of
his faults. If there be one here who
feels himself quite pure, and free from
error, let him throw the first stone ; but
if not, let us be silent; and I confess
that I feel that I must not say one word.”
He resumed his seat, and the company
looked at each other, struck silent by this
rebuke from one so cod and mild.
(e) HENRY AND THE BRO-
KEN STORY.—Mr. Philip Henry used
to remind those who spoke evil of people
behind their backs, of the law,——“ Thou
shalt not curse the deaf.” Those that
are absent are deaf, they cannot right
themselves, and therefore say no ill of
them. A friend of his, inquiring of him
concerning a matter which tended to
reflect upon some people ; he began to
give him an account of the story, but
immediately broke off, and checked him-
self with these words,—“ But our rule
is to speak evil of no man, and would
proceed no farther in the story. The
week before he died, a person requested
the loan of a particular book from him.
“ Truly,” said he, “I would lend it to
you, but that it takes in the faults of
some, which should rather be covered
with a mantle oflove.”
EFFECTS OF SLANDER.
-—The famous Boerhaave was one not
easily moved by detraction. He used
to say, “ The sparks of calumny will be
presently extinct of themselves unless
you blow them.” It was a good remark
of another, that “ the malice of ill tongues
cast upon a good man is only like a
mouthful of smoke blown upon a dia-
mond, which, though it clouds its beauty
for the present, yet it is easily rubbed
off, and the gem restored, with little
trouble to its owner.”
(g) VVHY BOERHAAVE BE.
CAME A PH YSIClAN.—The affecting
story of Boerhaave, so distinguished in the
medical prmession, is well known. With
piety, and learning, and gifts, and an
ardent zeal to glorify his divine Master,
his heart was fixed upon consecrating
his life to the sacred ministry. The
preliminary steps had been so far taken,
that he had gone to Leydcn to obtain
his license to preach—when to his utter
astonishment he found the way complete-
ly hedged up. An insinuaicn was dis-
\ 797
407
SLANDER.
persed through the University that made
him suspected of error no less shocking
than Atheism itself. It was in vain
that his friends pleaded his published
sentiments, which contained unanswer-
able confutations of the very heresies
with whicl he was charged ; the torrent
of popular prejudice was irresistible;
and thus this pre-eminent/y great and
good man was utterly frustrated in his
pious purpose by the slander of an insig-
nificant person, who had become his en-
emy from mortified pride. So true it is,
as his biographer well observes, that no
merit, however exalted, is exempt from
being, not only attacked, but wounded by
the most contemptible whispers. Those
who cannot strike with force, can poison
their weapons, and weak as they are,
give mortal wounds, and bring a hero to
the grave.
(it) THE MONARCH’S QUES-
TION.—VVhen any one was speaking
ill of another in the presence of Peter
the Great, he at first listened to him at-
tentively, and then interrupted him.
“Is there not,” said he, “ a fair side
also to the character of the person of
whom you are speaking? Come, tell
me what good qualities you have re-
marked about him.” One would think
this monarch had learned that precept,
“Speak not evil one of another.”
(i) THE WAY TO TREAT A
CALUMNIATOR.-—A clergyman in
New-York state, in early life, had en-
gaged in business which led him to buy
a good deal of coal; and after he be-
came a minister of the Gospel, two of
his members, who were making a bar-
gain respccting a load of coal, agreed to
leave it to their minister to decide how
much the load contained. He accord-
ingly acceded to their request, and told
them how much it contained, or how to
find out the amount it contained, by the
law of the state. The member who
wished to buy, was well pleased; the
one who wished to sell, was quite dis-
satisfied. After the min1ster left them,
the former came to see him, and stated
that the brother who sold the coal had
just said—that he did not believe what
his minister had stated; that if he was
r. minister, he was not too good to lie,
Ste. The Rev. Mr. S., in the first place,


felt deeply wounded, and strongly in-
clined to go and give the rash and unkind
brother a severe rebuke. But on reflect-
ing a moment, he replied to his mform
ant, “I presume Brother does not
really think so ;” and under that convic-
tion he determined to take no notice of
it, and treat the brother’s offence with
silence. The offender came afterwards
to see his pastor; and his uneasy and
anxious appearance seemed to say—-
“I wish you would call me to account
for my expressions against you ;” but the
pastor studiously avoided all reference
to them. And now, as ifto appease his
own conscience, the offender, who be-
fore had been quite indifferent to his
minister, began to load him with his
kindnesses, and became one ofhis warm-
est friends.
PHILIP AND THE ATHE-
NIAN ORATORS.—-Philip of Mace-
don was wont to say “ that he was much
beholden to the Athenian orators ; since
by the slanderous and opprobrious man-
ner in which they spoke of him, [e. g.
that he was a barbarian, an usurper, a
cheat; perfidious, perjured, depraved;
a companion of rascals, mountebanks,
&c.] they were the means of making
him a better man, both in word and deed.
For,” added he, “I, every day, do my
best endeavor, as well as my sayings
and doings, to prove them liars.”
Let Christians be benefited in asim-
ilar way, by the reproaches of the
world.
(k) SLANDER BOOK.-—-When
in the town of ,I was struck
with the above words, says a newspaper
writer, written on the back of a small
blank account book. I found on exam-
ining the contents, that different persons
were charged with so much, for one or
two slanders as the case might be. The
accounts were very neatly and correctly
kept, credits entered, &c., with as much
precision as the merchant keeps his
books. Upon inquiry Iwas informed,
that this plan (of fining people for slan-
der,) originated with M ,the daugh-
ter of the man at whose house the book
was seen, to prevent evil speaking and
its consequences. She, a girl of twelve
or thirteen years, perceived the evil of
slander; the many interruptions pro-


798
SOUL—SUBMISSION TO GOD’S WILL.
408, 109

duced by it in families and neighbor-
hoods 5 obtained a blank book, and de-
termined to fine every person who slan-
dered or spoke evil of another in her
presence-—the money thus collected to
be applied to benevolent purposes. She
gave me four dollars, a donation to the
Missionary Society of the —— Con-
ference, a part of her collections only
for a few months. It is very desirable
and commendable, that every family
have such a book, and enter into such a
compact; because-


1. The money thus collected is to
be appropriated to a most noble pur.
pose.
2. It would make people, and espe-
cially the members of every family,
more circumspect, and watch with more
diligence and care over that little mem-
ber which no man can tame 5 and there-
by prevent much slander and evil speak-
ing, which is the cause, no doubt, of
half of the broils and animosities which
occur in families and neighborhoods.
408. SOUL, EXISTENCE AND VALUE OF.
(a) A JEW’S REPLY.—A con-
verted Jew, pleading the cause of the
society through whose instrumentality
he had been brought to a knowledge of
Christianity, was opposed by a learned
gentleman, who spoke very lightly of
the objects of the society, and its efforts,
and said, “ He did not suppose they
would convert more than a hundred all
together.” “ Be it so,” replied the Jew 5
you are a skillful calculator 5 take your
409. SUBMISSION
(a) THE CHILDREN’S AN-
SWERS.—A Sabbath school teacher,
instructing his class on that petition
of the Lord’s Prayer, “ Thy will be
done on earth as it is in heaven,” said
to them, “You have told me, my dear
children, what is to be done—the will of
God : and where it is to be done-—-on earth;
and how it is to be done—as it is done
in heaven. How do you think the an-
gels and the happy spirits do the will of
God in heaven, as they are to be our
pattern '2” The first child replied, “They
do it immediately :” the second, “ They
do it diligently :” the third, “They do
tt always :” the fourth, “ They do it
with all their hearts :” the fifth, “ They
do it all together.” Here a pause ensued,
and no other children appeared to have
any answer 5 but, after some time, a lit-
tle girl arose, and said, “ Why, sir,
they io it without askzng any questions.”

pen now, and cahalate the wozrn of mm
hundred immortal souls !”
(b) DR. SCOTT’S REMARKS.
——Dr. Scott, in one of his lectures to
young clergymen, says: “I must own
thatl feel in my best moments, that I
had rather be the author of the “Dis-
course on Repentance,” than of Sir
Isaac Newton’s Principia 5 for the salva-
tion of one soul gives joy in heaven, but
we read not that angels notice philosophi-
cal discoveries.”
TO GOD’S WILL.
Happy world ! Our Father who art in
heaven, whose will is always wise and
always good, thy will be thus done on
earth as it is done in heaven !
(b) GOD’S DEMANDS AN-
Sl/VERED.—“I see God will have all
my heart, and he shall have it,” was a
fine reflection made by a lady when
news was brought of two children drown-
ed, whom she loved very much.
(0) THE INFIDEL AND HIS
WlFE.—When I was in the United
States (says a Christian writer), I heard
of the conversion of a complete man of
the world; which, as far as means
were concerned, owed its existence to
the following circumstance :——God laid
his hand on a lovely, and, I think, an
only daughter; and the afihction ter-
minated in death. VVhen the terrible
moment arrived in which the idol of his
affections must die, he stood at the head
799
409
SUBMISSION To GOD'S WILI
-_ _, _ _

of her bed, almost frantic with grief;
and, having no consolation above what
nature and education supplied, as is
freqently the case, his grief terminated
in rage ; he was almost ready to curse
the God who, as he thought, could be so
cruel as to deprive him of so dear a
child. His wife, an amiable and sen-
sible woman, at the same time stood at
the foot of the bed. Her eyes were
suffused with tears, her hands lifted to
heaven : and, while every feature spoke
the feelings of her soul, she exclaimed,
“ The will of the Lord be done ! The
will of the Lord be done! The will of
the Lord be done!” These exclama-
tions very naturally called the attention
of her frantic husband from their dying
daughter to herself; and. as he after-
wards cenfessed, he was on the point of
wreaking his vengeance on, what he
then considered, an unfeeling wife, and
an unnathral hard-hearted mother. Af-
ter a while, however, the storm of pas-
sion gave place to reflection. He was
a man of eminence at the bar, a colonel
in the army; he prided himself on be-
ing a philosopher; and was therefore
led to examine how his courage and
philosophy had supported him in the
day of trial. Here he saw reason to
reflect on his conduct with shame ; the
more so, as he contrasted it with the
conduct of his amiable and pious part-
ner. “ How is this '2” he could not but
exclaim: “I am a man and a soldier.
I boast of my courage, and pride my-
self in philosophy, in which I am versed,
as being equal to the support of man in
every emergency. But in the hour of
trial I acted an unworthy part. My
wife, a delicate female, and, notwith-
standing my suspicions to the contrary,
one of the most affectionate of mothers,
was alone the magnanimous sufferer on
this trying occasion. What, under cir-
cumstances so directly opposite, could
lead to such contrary results '2” “She
is a Christian,” said a still small voice;
“and I am not: surely the secret is
here!” This train of thought led to
the most pleasing consequences. He
concluded that there must be a reality
in that religion which he had hitherto
despised; and if so, that was the one
thing needful. He conferred not with

flesh and blood ; but immediately began
to seek the consolations of true religion,
and, ere long, found
“ What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
The soul’s calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy.”
(at) DUMB BOYS’ EXAMINA.
TION.—A clergyman once paid a visit
to a deaf and dumb asylum in London,
for the express purpose of examining
the children in the knowledge they pos-
sessed of Divine truth. A little boy, on
this occasion, was asked in writing,
“ Who made the world '2” He took up
the chalk, and wrote underneath the
question, “ in the beginning God created
the heaven and the earth.” The clergy
man then inquired in a similar manner,
“ Why did Jesus Christ come into the
world '2” A smile of delight and grati-
tude rested on the countenance of the
little fellow, as he wrote, “This is a
faithful saying, and worthy of all ac-
ceptation, That Jesus Christ came mto
the world to save sinners.” A third
question was then proposed, eminently
adapted to call his most powerful feel-
ings into exercise: “Why were you
born deaf and dumb, while I can hear
and speak '2” " Never,” said an eye-
witness, “ shal1 I forget the look of holy
resignation and chastened sorrow which
sat on his countenance as he took up
the chalk and wrote, ‘ Even so, Father,
for so it seemed good in thy sight.’ ”
(e) NONE BETTER FITTED
FOR TROUBLE. -— An aged and
pious lady, who lost the use of her arm
by a fall in winter, said to a friend,
smiling, that she had just been con-
sidering the circumstances of all her
acquaintances, but had not been able to
fix upon one who could with less incon-
venience sustain such a loss than she
could. She, therefore, admired the
Divine wisdom and goodness in appoint-
ing her to bear that affliction rather
than any other person.
(f) PICKING STRAVVS FOR
LIFE.-—Mr. Hey, an eminent surgeon,
early in the year 17 78, received a stroke
upon his thigh, which threatened the
complete suspension of his professional
labors. The remedies applied under
his own directions, and those of his me
dical friends, proved altogether unset
800
SUBMISSION . WANT OF.
- __.-__-_ __.___.——-_ __ -_ _ —
.._ _ .. - _ ~.--...-_. ._
viceable ; and it appeared 111 the highest
degree probable to himself and them,
that he would never regain the power
of walking. He was the father of a
large family, and was soon to be the
patent of the eleventh child. He was
in full business, and had the most rea-
sonable prospect of distinction and emo-
lument, as creditable to himself as
advantageous to his family. Mr. Hey
felt this afflictive dispensation of Divine
Providence as every considerate man in
similar circumstances would feel it—he
was deeply affected by it; but his lan-
guage and conduct were constantly ex-
pressive of the most humble submission,
and meek acquiescence in the Divine
will. To an intimate friend, who was
lamenting the apparent consequences of
a disorder which extinguished all his
prospects of future usefulness, he re-
plied, “ If it be the will of God thatl
should be confined to my sofa, and he
command me to pick straws during the
remainder of my life,I hope I should
feel no repugnance to his good plea-
sure/’
(g) FENELON AND HIS PUPIL.
—A most remarkable instance of Chris-
tian resignation was discovered on one
particular occasion, in the conduct of
Archbishop F enelon. When his illus-
trious and hopeful pupil, the Duke of
Burgundy, lay dead in his coffin, and
the nobles of his court, in all the pomp
of silent sadness, stood round, the arch-
bishop came into the apartment, and
having fixed his eyes for some time on
the corpse, broke out at length in words
to this effect : “ There lies my beloved
prince, for whom my affections were
equal to the tenderest regard of the
tenderest parents. Nor were my affec-
tions lost; he loved me in return with
all the ardor of a son. There he lies ;
and all my worldly happiness lies dead
with him. But if the turning of a straw
would call him back to life, Iwould not
for ten thousand worlds be the turner of
that straw in opposition to the will of
God.”
(h) THE WISEST PREFER-
ENCE.——There was a good woman,
who, when she was ill, being asked,
Whether she was willing to live or die,
answered, “ I/Vhich God pleaseth.”

409, 410

“ But,” said one standing by, “if
God should refer it to you, whether
would you choose ?”
“Truly,” said she, “if God should
refer it to me, I would even refer it to
him again.”
(2') INSTANCE OF JOHN
BROWN.-—-“No doubt,” said the late
Mr. Brown of Haddington, “I have
met with trials as well as others; yet
so kind has God been to me, that, I
think, if God were to give me as many
years as I have aleady lived in the
world, I would not desire one single
circumstance in my lot changed, ex-
cept that I Wish I had less sin. It
might be written on my coffin, Here
lies one of the cares of Providence,
who early wanted both father and mo-
ther, and yet never missed them.”
ALL VVITH CHRIST, OR
IN CHRIST.——“I have had six chil-
dren,” said Mr. Elliot, “and I bless
God for his free grace they are all with
Christ, or in Christ; and my mind is
now at rest concerning them. My de-
sire was, that they should have served
Christ on earth ; but if God will choose
to have them rather serve him in
heaven, I have nothing to object to it.
His will be done.”
(It) THE BEREAVED OFFICER
—During the siege of Barcelona, in
1705, Captain Carleton witnessed the
following affecting fact, which he tells
us in his memoirs :—-“I saw an old
officer, having his only son with him,
a fine man about twenty years of age,
going into their tent to dine. Whilst
they were at dinner, a shot took off the
head of the son. The father immedi-
ately rose up, and first looking down
upon his headless child, and then lifting
up his eyes to heaven, while the tears
ran down his cheeks, only said, ‘Thy
will be done.’ ”
410. Submission, Want of.
(a) “ HE SHA’N’T DIE.”--In a
parish in the county of Gloucester, the
widow of agentleman resided with her
only son, a lad about twelve years of
age. Mrs. had unhappily taken
great prejudice against the doctrines
preached by her pastor, which carried
her so far, as not only to induce her to
51
801
(‘ll
THEATRES.
.-_-_-_----I-—_._—-_ —-
break off all communications with him,
but even to absent herself from his mi-
nistry. The clergyman adopted every
method of lawful conciliation, but in
vain ; and he was left to regret what he
could not remedy. About this period,
the boy was taken seriously ill, and the
clergyman thinking that the mother’s
mind might be softened by the affliction,
called to inquire after the sufferer, and
offer his ministerial services. The lady
admitted him to the house, and after he
had endeavored to point her to the
great Controller of all events, and the
object of his fatherly chastisements, he
proposed that they should kneel down to
prayer. The mother acquiesced in the
proposition, but the feeling with which
she did so will be seen by the sequel.

___--Q-_ - W

The worthy minister prayed that, if
it was the Lord’s Wlll, the child might
be restored ; but, if otherwise, that God’s
will and not theirs might be done. As
he uttered the petition, the unhappy
mother rose from her knees, and ex-
claimed in the agony of despair——“ He
sha’n’t die I” All efforts to compose her
were unavailing, and the clergyman was
compelled to take his departure. But
the fearful issue of the narrative yet re-
mains. From that hour the boy began
to improve in health, and, in the course
of time, he entirely recovered. But,
alas! the life of thislad, on which the
mother was thus intent, was not a bless-
ing to her or the world; for, thirteen
years afterwards, he suffered death for
forgery.
411. THEATRES.
ta) THE CURATE AND THE
TRAGEDY.—When Racine composed
the tragedy of Esther, to please Madame
Maintenon, she very strongly recom-
mended it at court, and every one was
charmed with the performance, except
one honest curate, who refused to see it.
Being very urgently pressed for his rea-
sons, he told Madame M. that she knew
he was in the habit of publicly repro-
bating the stage from the pulpit, and,
that though the tragedy of Esther was
far different from the generality of plays,
yet it was still known to be a play : add-
ing that were he to yield to the request,
his hearers would compare his conduct
with his sermons, and, in their practice,
would pursue the course most suited to
their sinful inclinations.
(Z2) THE WAY TO THE PIT.
-—A young man, on reaching the door
of a theatre, overheard one of the door-
keepers calling out, “This is the way
to the pit.” Having had some instruc-
tion it the word of God, in early life,
what the man said reminded him that the
employments of the theatre led to hell.
The thought haunted him, and made
him cease frequenting such amusements :
he became attentive to the concerns of
his soul, and afterwards was a minister
9f the gospel.

(c) PLEASURES OF THE
THEATRE.—While traveling, Mr.
Hervey met with a lady who largely
expatiated on the amusements of the
stage, as being, in her opinion, superior
to all other pleasures. She remarked
that there was the pleasure of thinking
on the play before she went, the pleasure
she enjoyed while there, and the pleasure
of reflecting on it on her bed at night.
Mr. Hervey, who had heard her remarks
without interruption, now said, with his
usual mildness, that there was one
pleasure more, which she had forgotten.
“ VVhat can that be '2” she eagerly ask-
ed; for she thought she must have in-
cluded them all. With a grave look,
and striking manner, Mr. H. replied,
“ Madam, the leasure it will give you
on a death-be .” A clap of thunder,
or a flash of lightning, could not have
more surprised her ; the remark went
to her heart. She had no reply to make ;
the rest of the journey was occupied in
deep thought ; she abandoned the thea-
tre, and heartily pursued those pleasures
which can afford satisfaction even on a
death-bed.
(cl) UNHEARD OF PRAYER.
—“ He that is not satisfied,” says Bishop
Wilson, “that plays are an unlawful
diversion, let him, he dare, offer up
862
THEATRES.
41]
hr--—-

—-
this prayer to God before he goes, ‘ Lord,
lead me not into temptation, and bless
me in what I am now to be employed.”
There are many other occupations and
amusements, in which the same advice
is worth attending to.
(e) A YOUNG MAN’S CA-
REER.—A young man, says a corres-
pondent of the Journal of Commerce, of
about twenty-two, called on the writer
in the fall of 1831, for employment. He
was a journeyman printer, was recently
from Kentucky, and owing to his want
of employment, as he said, was entirely
destitute of not only the comforts, but the
necessaries of life. I immediately pro-
cured him a respectable boarding-house,
gave him employment, and rendered his
situation as comfortable as my limited
means would permit. He had not been
with me long before he expressed a wish
to go to the theatre. Some great actor
was to perform on a certam night; and
he was very anxious to see him. I
warned him of the consequences——told
him my own experience and observation
had convinced me that it was a very
dangerous place for young men to visit.
But my warning did him no good. He
neglected his business, and went. I
reproved him gently, but retained him
in my employment. He continued to
go, notwithstanding all my remonstran-
ces to the contrary. At length my busi-
ness suffered so much from his neglect-
ing to attend to it as he ought, that I
was under the necessity of discharging
him in self-defence. He got temporary
employment in different offices in the
city, where the same fault was found
with him. Immediately after he accept-
ed a situation of bar-keeper in a porter
nouse or tavern attached to the
Theatre. His situation he did not long
hold—-from what cause I know not. He
again applied to me for work; but as
his habits were not reformed, I did not
thmk it prudent to employ him, although
I said or did nothing to injure him in
the estimation of others. Disappointed
in procuring employment in a business
to which he had served a regular ap-
prenticeship,—being penniless, and see-
mg no bright prospect for the future, he
enlisted as a common soldier in the U.
States’ service. He had not been in his

new vocation long before he was calleo
upon, with other troops to defend our
citizens from the attacks of the Indians.
But when the troops had nearly reached
the place of destination, that “invisible
scourge,” the Asiatic Cholera, made its
appearance among them. Desertion
was the consequence, and among others
who fled, was the subject of this article.
He returned to New York--made appli-
cation, at several different oflices, for
employment, without success. Ina few
days the dreadful news came that he
had been detected in pilfering goods
from the house of his landlorn. A war-
rant was immediately issued ftr him—-
he was seized—taken to the police office,
convicted, and sentenced to six months’
hard labor in the Penitentiary. His
name being published in the newspapers,
in connection with those of other convicts
-—was immediately recognized by the
officer under whom he had enlisted.
This officer proceeds to the city—claims
the prisoner—-and it is at length agreed
that he shall return to the United States
service, where he shall, for the first six
months, be compelled to roll sand as a '
punishment for desertion, serve out the
five years for which he had enlisted,
and then be given up to the City author-
ities, to suffer for the crime of pilfering.
Night after night has the writer of
this attended the theatre ; and night
after night has he witnessed the attend-
ance of those who were in the want of
the common necessaries of life. He has
frequently seen, among the theatre-going
public, men who called themselves gen-
tlemen, who were in the habit of associa-
ting with the “ vilest of the vile,” -and
whose actions. could they but be known
to the reflecting part of the community,
would cover them with infamy and dis-
grace. But these facts, to many, will
appear like a thrice-told tale. The
simple narrative related above may be
relied on as correct.
can be given if required.
WORDS OF PLATO.-—
Plays raise the passions, and pervert the
use of them; and of consequence are
dangerous to morality.
(g) VVORDS OF ARISTOTLE.
—The seeing of Comedies ought to be
forbidden to youggnpeople ; until age
Names and dates ‘
fill
THEATRES.

-v~ ._
and discipline have made them proof
against debauchery.
(h) WORDS OF TAClTUS.-
The German women are guarded against
danger, and preserve their purity by
having no play-houses among them.
OPINION OF OVlD.——Ovid,
in a grave work addressed to Augustus,
advises the suppression of theatrical
amusements as a great source of corrup-
.101].
( OPINION OF ROUSSEAU.
-——The infidel philosopher ROUSSEAU de-
clared himself to be of the opinion, that
the theatre is in all cases a school of vice.
'I‘hough he has himself written for the
stage, yet. when it was proposed to es-
tablish a theatre in the city of Geneva,
he wrote against the project, with zeal
and great force, and expressed the opin-
ion, that every friend of pure morals
ought to oppose it! Alas! that which
infidelity has condemned as a fruitful
source of corruption and shame, is pub-
licly advocated and patronized in our
midst--yea, more: vindicated and pat-
ronized by sorne professing godliness.
“ It is impossible, says Rousseau,
“that an establishment [the Theatre at
Geneva] so contrary to our ancient
manners, can be generally applauded.
How many generous citizens will see,
with indignation, this monument of lurc-
ury and efeminacy raise itself upon the
ruins of our ancient simplicity I Where
would be the imprudent mother who
would dare to carry her daughter to this
dangerous school? And what respect-
able woman would not think herself
dishonored in going there ’.l In all
countries the profession of a player is
dishonorable, and those who exercise it
are every where contemned.”
(Ir) DR. RUSH’S OPINION.-—
Dr. Rush was a great enemy to theatri-
cal amusements. He was once in con-
versation with a lady, a professor of re-
ligion, who was speaking of the pleasure
she anticipated at the theatre, in the
evening. “ What, madam,” said he,
“do you go to the theatre '2” “Yes,”
was the reply : “and don’t you go, doc-
tor ?” “ No, madam,” said he, “ I nev-
er go to such places.” “ Why, sir, do
you not go’.2 Do you think it sinful '2”
said she. He replied, “I never will

—-_,.-q!
publish to the world that I think Jesus
Christ a hard master, and religion an
unsatisfying portion, which I sh auld do
if I went on to the devil’s ground in
quest of happiness.” This argument
was short, but conclusive. The lady
determined not to go.
(Z) THE COMEDIAN’S CON-
FESSION.—A celebrated comic per-
former on the English stage, retiring
from London for a short time on account
of ill-health, and meeting with a pious
friend whom he had once intimately
known, said, “I have been acting Sir
John Falstaf so often, that I thought I
should have died; and had I died, it
would have been in the service of the
devil.” The testimony of a player
against himself.
(m) RESOLUTION OF CON-
GRESS. -— The American Congress,
soon afizer the Declaration of Independ-
ence, passed the following motion :
“Whereas, true religion and good
morals are the only foundation of public
liberty and happiness,
Resolved, that it be, and hereby Is,
earnestly recommended to the several
states, to take the most effectual mea-
sures for the encouragement thereof,
and for the suppression of theatrical
entertaimnents, horse-racing, gaming,
and such other diversions as are produc-
tive of idleness, dissipation, and a gen-
eral depravity of principles and man-
ners.
(n) PRYNNE’S COLLECTION
or TESTIMONY.--William Prynne,
a satirical and pungent writer, Who suf-
fered many cruelties for his admirable
productions in the time of Charles I,
has made a catalogue of authorities
against the stage, which contains every
name of eminence in the heathen and
Christian world : it comprehends the uni-
ted testimony of the Jewish and Christian
Churches; the deliberate acts of fifty-
four ancient and modern, general, nation-
al, and provincial councils and synods,
both of the Western and Eastern church-
es, the condemnatory sentence of sev enty-
one ancient Fathers, and one hundred
and fifty modern popish and Protestant
authors ; the hosti e endeavors of philos-
ophers and even poets; with the legisla-
tive enactments of a great number of
804
TOBACCO.
411, 412

pagan and Christian states, nations,
magistrates, emperors and rinces.
(0) ADVOCATE F THEA-
TRES.-—There was a poor gentleman
in Paris, who used to go powdered and
decorated with ruflies and ribbons. He
happened to be in a company where
were even some of morals so stern that
they questioned the utility of the thea-
tres with which Paris abounds. At that
time, they had twenty-one in that city,
and they were opened every evening,
not excepting the Sabbath. This ruffied
gentleman, in a long harangue, under-
took to show that the theatres were a
great public benefit. And he used argu-
ments often urged by advocates of simi-
lar public nuisances. There were the
thousands of actors, scene-makers, can-
dle-lighters, hack-drivers, footmen, print-
ers, &e. &c., whose mouths were daily
supplied with bread by these establish-
ments. He grew warm, and, in a man-
ner, eloquent. He could not deny but
thousands had their morals corrupted,
their hopes crushed, their property lost,
and their hearts broken, in consequence
of these sinks of vice. Still, he pleaded
in their behalf as if for life. After he
had withdrawn, and the company were
musing on his arguments and vehemence,
a gentleman remarked that their elo-
quent friend had good reason for his
opinions——-for he spent all his small
pension in going to the play, but staid
every night til-l the play-house was clear-
ed, and then went round in the ladies’
boxes, and pzcked up pins enough to buy
his food till the next play I”

(p) GOOD TEST FOR AMUSE.
MENTS.—Two professors of religion
were standing at the door of a theatre in
the city of N ew-York, when one of them
proposed to go in and see the play, and
desired his friend to accompany him.
The other declined the invitation; and
after being repeatedly solicited to enter,
gave this excellent reason for his refusal :
“ IfI should go in, and while there be
called into eternity, and should be asked
at the door of heaven where I had come
from, I should be ashamed to answer.”
This incident furnishes a rule for
general observance : Never go to a place
where you would be ashamed to die.”
(q) THEATRES IN THE
F RENCH REVOLUTION.-—
During the progress of the most ferocious
revolution which ever shocked the face
of heaven, theatres, in Paris alone, mul-
tiplied from sire to twenty-five. Now,
one of two conclusions follows from this :
either the spirit of the times produced
the institutions, or the institutions cher-
ished the spirit of the times, and this
would certainly go to prove, that they
are either the parents of vice, or the
offspring of it.
(r) THE MUSICIAN’S REPLY.
—An accomplished musician, who had
been engaged for many years perform-
ing at theatres, assemblies, and other
places of amusement, on being asked
why he relinquished his employment,
answered, “Because I cannot look to
heaven for a blessing upon it.”
412. TOBACCO.
(a) REFORMED MAN’S TES-
TIMONY.—A correspondent of the
New-York Evangelist says: “ I had
chewed this poison more than fifteen
rears. I had often doubted the utility
of this practice before I relinquished it.
I found that one argument which I had
employed against the use of ardent spirits
applied with as much propriety to the
use of tobacco. The argument is, that
it must be unfriendly to true piety, for

der the continued influence of poison.
This produces a morbid excitement, di-
rectly opposed to that excitement which
the Holy Spirit is producing. Thus I rea-
soned in reference to the use of ardent
spirits, and was persuaded that the ar-
gument applied also to the use of to-
bacco. In this state of mind I read
several articles in the New-York Evan-
gelist, in opposition to this practice. I
was in this way brought to the deter-
the Christian, while in health, to be un- f mination that I would suspend the use
805
112
TOBACCO.
of tobacco, and see whether I could do
without it. I had been moderate in the
use of this poison, if there can be any
moderation in using it, and supposed
that it was exerting very little influence
over me. In less than two days after I
had commenced this self-discipline, I
experienced such a tormenting restless-
ness, such a prostration of strength. as
fully convinced me that tobacco was
exerting a very powerful influence upon
my system. When I perceived its in-
fluence, I was determined to break up
this bad habit; and then resolved fully
to renounce the use of tobacco, as a
powerful and hurtful stimulus for the
human system. For a few days I suf-
fered much from an almost insupport-
able uneasiness in the whole system,
which was calling loudly for its accus-
tomed stimulus. But this only served
to strengthen my resolution, and to con-
vince me more and more of the im-
portance of conquering this habit. I
have persevered for more than six
months, and have enjoyed during this
period, much better health than while I
used it. It is now hateful to me, and I
have no desire again to resume its use.
I would, from my own experience, call
on my friends, and all others who are
in bondage to this hateful weed, to fol-
low my example. I mean to persevere,
and am persuaded that I shall.”
(b8 GOOD RULE FOR THE
LO D’S STEWA RDS.——Says a cor-
respondent of the Ohio Observer :—-
“ When the use of tobacco was fashion-
able even among the genteel, in walk-
ing through a village, I passed a store
where I knew there were some very
fine cigars. I was immediately seized
with the hankering so well known to
habitual smokers. The determination
arose to lay out a few shillings in pur-
chasing some. As I had been endea-
voring to accustom myself to regard my
money as the Lord’s, and myself as the
steward, I tried the rule in that case.
I found myself unwilling to charge such
an item on my account book. A faith-
ful steward would make no such ex-
penditure, thought I. The money
which had been taken out was dropped
again into my pocket, and I passed on.
I have ever found it difficult to smoke

cigars since that time. The cure which
I propose is, to ask the blessing of God
on all expenditures, and to try to be faith-
ful stewards o the Lord’s money.”
(c) THE lNISTER’S REPENT-
ANCE.-—A country minister being in-
vited to preach the weekly lecture to a
congregation in the City of N ew-York,
after dismissing the people, took out his
tobacco, and began to chew the filthy
weed. A member of the church re-
monstrated with him on the sinfulness
of the practice, and stated that he could
not expect that impenitent sinners under
his instructions, would give up their
sins while he indulged in a sin him-
self. “ I know it is wrong,” said
the minister. “I have often resolved
to give up the habit, but I have not
resolution enough to persevere.”
“ Why,” said the other, “that is t 11.
very excuse the impenitent give for not
repenting and forsaking their sins.”
“ Well, l’ll think it over as I go
home,” observed the minister, “ an
perhapsl will give it up.” ‘
“ That will not do,” replied the
church member, “ for we never allow
this, if we can help it; we exhort the
impenitent to repent on the spot; we
never tell them to go home and repent,
nor do we pray that they may repent
when they reach home.”
“ I see,” said the minister, “ I cannot
get away so—-therefore I will try to
give up chewing.”
“ But,” remarked the other, “ that
will not do either. We never urge
sinners to try to give up their sins-~—oo
you '2”
“ Why, no; I think it wrong to inti-
mate that they cannot do it at once.”
“Will you act then as you preach,
or let your conduct give the lie to your
preaching '5”
“ With the help of God,” said the
minister, “I will leave off the practice
from this moment.”
A member of the church where this
conversation took place, Who was in the
practice of chewing tobacco, was so
impressed with what had taken place,
that he too solemnly promised to abjuro
the filthy habit without delay.
(d) PRAYING OVER TOBACCO.
—-A pious sea captain had been in the
806
TOBACCO.
419

—
nabit of using tobacco, for upwards of
twenty years, and had made many and
strenuous efforts to abandon its use, but
without success. He was a nervous
man, and loved strong tea and coffee as
well as tobacco, for the stimulus it
' afforded him. He loved tobacco, as the
drunkard loves alcohol. The force of
the habit may be seen in the following
circumstance 1--
He had given up its use, as he
thought, without mental reservation,
and congratulated himself on the vic-
tory he had obtained, after months of
total abstinence. One ‘day, being on
charge in the city of N (be was
a ship mate at the time), and convers-
ing with a brother shipmate, he found
tobacco in his month without knowing
how it came there. He expressed his
surprise at the fact to his companion,
who answered with a boisterous laugh,
“ I took out my tobacco box and handed
it to you, and you deliberately helped
yourself.” He had acted under the in-
fluence of an old inveterate habit, and
was not conscious of having done so,
until he had tasted the tobacco. Such
was the strength of the habit. Finding
at length that it clung to him like a dis-
ease, and defied all his efforts, and
being persuaded that the conflict of
mind to which he was subject, by rea-
son of its use, was actually impairing
his usefulness as a man and a Christian,
he decided upon making one more ef-
fort. He was persuaded that Divine
assistance alone could make that effort
successful, and acted accordingly. He
took the tobacco from his pocket, placed
it in a chair, knelt before it, and so-
lemnly pledged himself to God, that he
would use it no longer, even as a medi-
cine, though prescribed by a physician.
He then implored the Divine blessing
upon the attempt, arose from his knees,
threw the tobacco into the street,
and went about his business. He has
not, he states, had a particle of a desire
for its use from that time to the time of
.his narration, a period of more than
two years.
(e) THE CULPRlT’S RULING
PASSION.--The Editor of the Che-
nango Telegraph, in giving an account
of the execution of George Denison, who


-“__-_
suffered at Norwich, New-York, says.
that while standing upon the fatal drop,
and during the exhortation of the cler-
gyman, the prisoner asked in a whisper,
for the tobacco box of the deputy sheriff,
from which he coolly took a quid, de-
posited it in his mouth, and returned
the box. In ten minutes, he was
launched into eternity I On the morn-
ing of the day that Hamilton, who shot
Major Birdsall, was to be executed,
the clergy passed two hours in solemn
exercises with him. After they left the
cell, Hamilton gave some directions
about his gallows wardrobe. As the
keeper was leaving to execute his com-
mission, he asked Hamilton if he
wanted any thing else. He replied,
“ You may get me a paper of tobacco.”
After a moment’s reflection, he added
“ Stop, perhaps I have enough/’——and.
rising on his elbow, drew a part of a
paper from under the pillow of his
pallet, and measuring in his mind the
quantity of tobacco by the few hours
he had to live, calmly remarked, “ This
will last me.”
MONEY FOR MISSIONS.-—
A minister in England had been plead-
ing with his congregation the claims of
the poor heathen on Christian benevo-
lence, and strongly urging on them the
duty of contributing to the support of
missionary exertions. His friends rea-
dily contributed according to their se-
veral abilities. The next year, when
the missionary collection was about to
be made, the minister received a one-
pound note from a poor laboring man,
with a statement to the following effect:
—“ Sir, when you preached the mis-
sionary sermon last year, I was grieved
that I had it not in my power to give
what I wished. I thought and thought,
and consul ed my wife whether there
was any thing which we could spare
withou.. stinting the poor children ; but
it seemed that we lived as near as pos-
sible in every respect, and had nothing
but what was absolutely necessary. At
last it came into my mind, ‘Is that
fourpence which goes every week for
an ounce of tobacco absolutely neces-
sary ?’ I had been used to it so long,
that I scarcely thought it possible to do
without it ; however, I resolved to try ;
807
412
TOBACCO.
so, instead of spending the fourpence, I
dropped it into a box. The first week
I felt it sorely ; but the second week it
was easier; and, in the course of a
few weeks, it was little or no sacrifice
at all; at least I can say, that the
pleasure far outweighed the sacrifice.
VVhen my children found what Iwas
doing, they wished to contribute also;
and, if ever they got a penny or ahalf-
penny given them for their own plea-
sure, it was sure to find its way into the
box instead of the cake shop. On
opening the box, I have the pleasure to
find that our collected pence amount to
one pound, which I now inclose, and
pray that the Lord may give his bless-
ing with it. I am thankful for having
thus broken off a dirty and expensive
habit, and I have enjoyed more health
and cheerfulness since I left off that
which I once thought it was impossible
for me to do without.”
(g) BATTLE WITH APPE-
TITE.—A gentleman (he is such now,)
who used to be a tremendous rum-drink-
er, tobacco-chewer and smoker ; but for
several years past has been a reformed
man, writes to a friend in the city of N.
York, in the following terms :
“ I have seen the time that my desire
for tobacco has been vastly stronger than
it ever has been for food. Once I was on a
lee-shore; the wind blew, the sea was
tremendous. The last time I saw the
rocky shore, it was three miles to the
leeward. It was late in the afternoon ;
I felt certain we should be on the rocks
before morning, if the wind continued.
[felt in my pocket for some tobacco,
but could find none. I examined every
tart of the vessel where I thought it
possible to find any. I inquired of the
crew but there was none on board.
At that time Iwould have given fifty
Iollars for one quid. The gale ceased,
we soon found a harbor, and the first
thing I inquired for was tobacco.
I chewed about twenty-one years,
and smoked about eighteen. For a long
time before I quit the use of tobacco, I
believed it was injurious to me, but I
felt it was almost impossible to leave it
off. Eventuallyl was awakened, and
felt that such practices were sinful. I
then thought I would try to leave them

I
__fi
off. Whenl quit smoking, I felt com
paratively that I had lost all my friends.
I could not eat or sleep as usual ; I felt
restless, and for some weeks thought it
uncertain whether I should be able to
conquer a habit that had become so
strong. But at last it was overcome.
I then thought I would quit chewing-—
then came the struggle. To quit smok-
ing was but a trifle in comparison. Af-
terl had determined to try to quit chew-
ing, I always kept a piece of tobacco in
my pocket. Iwas doubtful whether I
should be able to leave 1‘ off. Many
times, before I was aware ;f it I found
I had had a piece in my mouth a long
time. As soon as I perceived it, I would
take it out, but often before it was dis-
charged, I would give it one solid grind.
There is nothing in the world so exquis-
itely sweet as tobacco. In a few months
the habit was overcome, but it was al-
most like plucking out my right eye, or
cutting off my right arm. When I had
entirely ceased from using it—-I had a.
better appetite-—my sleep was sweeter,
my_mind more composed-—-my nerves
were more firm—-I grew more fleshy ;
and now Ienjoy perfect health, and can
endure double the fatigue that I could
for a long time before I quit the use of
tobacco.”
(h) TOBACCO AND PROFANI-
TY.—A pious man moved into a little
village where there was much swearing.
One of his little boys, two years old,
caught the contagion. The father and
family labored with their neighbors un-
til a thorough reformation was effected
in that part of thetown where they lived ;
except the little prattler, who swore on
with increased malignity ; often cursing
his mother’s soul to hell; yet always
avoiding his father’s presence. From
this circumstance, it was concluded that
he was conscious of guilt; and, there-
fore, ought to be whipped. The father,
as his manner was, waited until he
caught him in the very act of swearing.
Then he tried to show the heinousness
of the crime, and the disagreeable ne-
cessity that he was under to use coer-
cive measures ; after which he lynched
him well. To convince the child that
it was a principle of love that compelled
him to use this correction, he said it
808
TOLERATION.
412, 41?

Was better to whip and break him from
swearing 5 for, if he did not quit it, God
would cast him into hell, there to burn
for ever. And in the vehemence of his
desire to awaken conviction, offered up
a short prayer to God, to change his
wicked heart 5 and then inquired :
“ Why do you swear, my son ’.l”
The child sobbed out, “ Father, be-
cause I have such a wicked heart.”
Father——\/Vell, my son, you must
pray to God to give you a good heart.”
Child—Father, you must pray.
Father-—I do pray, and whatever
you see me do, you must do.
The father turned within himself
and said, Have I done every thing I
ought to do, and been every thing I
ought to be, before my children? Con-
science awakened, and forced the mind
on the BACK TRACK, marking out every
deviation from the path of rectitude.
Nature had been in the habit, for twenty
years, of leaning on the narcotic stimu-
lant of tobacco, while it answered to
blunt the conscience a little. The
hands, ever faithful to the calls of nature,
through nervous sympathy, had already
extracted from the deposit, the plug and
the knife. Just at this instant a new
and pleasing thought shot across the
little sWearer’s mind; that there was
me duty he had never complied with 5
and, by so doing, he would please his
father and his God 5 for, surely, my
praying, good father, by this act, is

pleasing God. With eyes beaming with
joy, through tears that yet trembled on
their surface, he determined now to quit
the detestable practice of swearing, and
take his father’s godly example. En-
raptured at the thought of having so
easy an opportunity of convincing his
father of the great change that had taken
place in his mind, and with a voice as
sweet as infant lips could speak, he said,
“ Father, give me a chew of ‘obacco !”
I will not attempt to describe the
father’s feelings 5 I will leave that to
the reader. But what did the father do ’.l
what could he do’.2 Could he contra-
dict himself ? Could he convince the
child that it was right for the father to
do a thing, and wrong for the son ? No,
no. With a conscience already awak-
ened, by previous light, and having half-
heartedly attempted to abandon the evil
before-—~with a conscience now driving
lashes inconceivably severe, the tobacco
was tossed into the street, with this can-
did confession :
“ My son, I have done wrong; I
will now ask God to help me that I may
do so no more. Will YOU ask God to
help you that you may swear no more 2'”
The child looked disappointed, and
sobbed out, “ l/Vell.”
The father then took him in his arms,
and retired into the garden to pray, a
great deal Worse whipped than the
child.
413. TOLERATION.
(a) BURNING A HERETIC.-—
A popish princess was entreated by some
Romish ecclesiastics to concur with them
in bringing a supposed heretic to the
flames. “ Is it not true,” asked she,
“ that heretics burn for ever in hell-fire?”
“Without doubt was the reply of the
priests. “ Then,” added she, “ it would
be too severe to burn them in both
worlds. Since they are devoted to end-
less misery hereafter, it is but justice to
let them live unmolested here.”
(b) REPLY OF A POLISH
KING:-—When certain persons attempt-
ed to persuade Stephen, king pf Poland,

to constrain some of his subjects, who
were of a different religion, to embrace
his, he said to them, “ I am king of men,
and not of consciences. The dominion
of consciences belongs exclusively to
God.”
(0) HENRY VIII AND HIS
BUF F OON.—Henry VIII king of Eng-
land, wrote a silly book against Martin
Luther, for which the Pope conferred
on him the title “ Defender (f the Faith.”
As that tyrant appeared to be overjoyed
at the acquisition, the Jester of the court
asked the reason 5 and being told that it
was because the Pope at given him
809
414
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS.
that new title, the shrewd fool replied—- '
“ My good Harry, let thee and me de-
fend each other, and let the faith alone to
defend its elf !” That pretended buffoon
must have been the wisest man of his
day; for at that period no party had
learned the wisdom of leaving truth to
support itself by its own vigor.
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS.
HAPPI EFFECTS OF TRACTS.
414. Morality Promoted.
(a) THE PROFANE CREW.—
The Evangelical Magazine, for 1823,
gives an account of a gentleman at Liv-
erpool furnishing the steward of a mer-
chant vessel, which was about to leave
that port to trade in the Mediterranean,
with a parcel of tracts. The following
is the account of the effects they pro-
duced:
You recollect, on my taking leave
of you, you placed in my hand a small
parcel of tracts, and I promised to read
them; this I have done. On leaving
this port, we had a favorable wind
through the Channel ; the wind then
chopped round direct in our teeth. We
had to contend with light contrary winds
till we entered the Gut of Gibraltar.
During this part of our voyage I had lit-
tle or no opportunity to read the tracts:
Idid, on the first Sabbath, turn them
over, and put a few in my pocket; and
occasionally taking one out, gave it a
sneering glance, and then handed it to
one of the boys or men with a smile of
ridicule. On passing the Gut, we had
a tedious though pleasant voyage to
Smyrna. Having much time upon my
hands, I now and then looked at a tract
to pass it away. One evening I was
looking over the ship’s side, viewing the
calm and peaceful close of another day.
This brought to my recollection the
scenery and calmness of the evening
when I took my last farewell of my
friends at home. It was at sunset, on a
lovely evening in July. Musing thus
of home, I just then put my hand in my
iacket pocket, and feeling a paper, took
-' out, and it proved to be a tract, " THE
SWEARER’S PRAYER.” lread it aloud,
in the hear'ng of the whole crew, and,
suppose, much of my feelings was

mixed with my tone of voice. VVhen
had read it, a curious kind of silence
ensued; not one of us felt inclined to
raise his eyes from what they were fixed
on, fearing to meet the look of another,
and knowing that, to a man, we were all
shockingly guilty of swearing. At
length we looked at each other in a
sidelong kind of way, and one man said,
“ Mr. William, I never heard or thought
of this before ; this kind of reading has
made me feel very strange ; I’m all over
trembling. I don’t think I shall like to
swear again: shall you, Jack '2” turn-
ing short to a seaman alongside of him,
who looked him full in the face, and
burst into tears. The shedding of tears
ran like a contagion through the whole
of us, even to the boy across the gun.
After weeping in silence, with our faces
hid with our hands, one man said, “Jack,
suppose we hand up a prayer to God
for forgiveness. Mr. William, you have
had more learning than we, you can
make a prayer.” Alas! I had never
prayed ; I could only sigh ; I really
thought my heart would burst. Oh,
how dreadful did sin appear! One of
the men then broke the silence of grief;
with his arms across his breast, and the
tears of penitential sorrow rolling down
his face, he cried out, “O God, who
made our souls, have mercy, and pardon
the miserable and damned crew on this
deck.” Not a heart but what respond-
ed, “Lord, hear this prayer, and for-
give.” But not to enter too long into
detail, a change took place in the whole
ship’s company. One circumstance I
must not forget to mention. The cap-
tain, a drunken, swearing character,
thought his men bewitched. On the
following morning he came on deck, and,
as usual, was giving his orders, mixed
with fearful oaths, when one of the men
in a most respectful manr r, begged he
would not swear a. them hey would
81
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS.
41-I
u...-—--9-¢.‘f
obey his orders with more comfort to
themselves without it. Indeed, the cap-
tain remarked to a person on his return,
that he was himself obliged to refrain
from swearing, it began to appear so
singular on board.
(1)) THE TORN TRACT. - In
the summer of 1825 (says a gentle-
man) I left the tract entitled “ The
Swearer’s Prayer,” in a place where it
Would be found by a companion who
was notoriously wicked and profane.
A few weeks afterwards, I went to the
place Where I had left it, and found it
with a few lines written on the margin
with a pencil, of which I do not recol-
.ect the precise words; but the amount
Was as follows: “ The writer has erred
in thinking that a pack of lies is a pro-
per means of breaking a bad habit;
and it would be better for him who has
left this here not to repeat such an in-
sult.” I wrote at the bottom, “ Reprove
a wise man, and he will love thee;”
and left the tract in the same place.
At my next visit I found it torn into a
number of small pieces. I was imme-
diately reminded of a fact recorded in
ancient history, of a certain king, who,
on receiving a petition from a poor per-
son, hastily glanced at it, and returned
it unanswered. The petition was pre-
sented the next day, and treated in the
same manner. The petitioner repeat-
edly presented it with the same ill
success, until, at last, the king being
exasperated with her irnportunity, tore
it to atoms. These were carefully ga-
thered up, stitched together, and again
presented. The king, struck with her
perseverance, read the petition, and im-
mediately returned a favorable answer.
This circumstance being brought to my
mind, I determined to try a similar ex-
periment. The fragments 'were put
together in their proper order, and re-
placed in the drawer in which the tract
had before been laid. Soon after, the
tract disappeared, and I heard nothing
more of it until eight months afterwards,
when I had a conversation with the
person for whom it was intended, and
he said, that he had determined, by the
grace of God, to leave off the practice
of swearing. He had treated “The

_-_~
Swearer’s Prayer ” with contempt when
he first saw it; but, when he found the
fragments re-united, he believed thatl
was in earnest. He took the tract
home, read it carefully, and resolved to
swear no more. He had determined
not to part with the tract as long as he
lived. A great reformation in his con-
duct has taken place, and 1 cannot but
hope that a work of Divine grace has
been begun in his heart.
(0) BREAD CAST ON THE
I/VATERS.—-A sailor, though he had
become so wicked that few would em-
ploy him, was engaged for an eighteen-
months’ voyage. Just before sailing,
he walked out one evening with a num-
ber of his companions, and passing the
Bethel Flag, concluded to stop. After
sermon, the preacher gave them some
tracts, which they took without thinking
or caring what they contained. They
carried them to the ship, and soon after
set sail.
After having been some months at
sea, this man, feeling somewhat melan-
choly, concluded he would look at the
tracts which had been given to him.
He did so, and conviction seized his
mind. He knew not what was the
matter. He had never felt so before.
He could not rest; and in this state he
continued waiting for the end of his
voyage, that he might return home and
find some one to tell him what he must
do to be saved. He broke off his habit
of profaneness and open impiety, and
thus remained till he arrived at port;
soon after which, he trusts, the Lord
Jesus Christ took possession of his soul.
He has since made one voyage, during
which he established a prayer meeting
on board, and won over a number to
attend it, two of whom hopefully empe-
riencecl religion; and all disorder was
banished from the ship. Speaking of
some seasons he had enjoyed since he
experienced a change, he mentioned
one in particular which he had during
his last voyage, while reading the tract
“Memoir of Harriet Newell.” He
said, it appeared to him his soul was
wrapped up in Christ.
(d) TRACT PICKED UP ON
THE WHARF.--The Seventh Report
811
414
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS.
—-


of the American Tract Society contains
the following letter from a mechanic in
N ew-York city :—-
“I was at work on the wharf—saw a
man pick up a little book, look at it,
and then throw it down. I ran and got
it. I srw it was called, ‘ THE WATCH-
MAKER.’ I read it; I shed tears. I
read it for five days, and became so
deeply distressed for my sins, that I was
determined to drink no more. Itold
my wife, who was once a member of
the church, but I had been the cause of
her leaving it. We had not for many
years ever been inside a church. I
used to swear, and curse at religion,
and was an awful deist and drunkard.
My family was in a destitute condition,
and often distressed on my account.
But, glory to God! all is changed now.
My wife and I went to a prayer-meet
mg, and it pleased God to bless her
also; and so we are both happy now.
Our little children are altered. Our
house and all are altered. I am laugh-
ed at by my shopmates, and those who
used to drink with me, and curse and
swear at religion. But I don’t mind
them now. I thank the Lord that he
stooped so low as to have mercy on one
of the wickedest of sinners. I can
never thank him enough.”
(e) HITTING THE RIGHT
NAIL.—-At the annual meeting of the
Religious Tract Society, in 1832, John
Fyson, Esq., of Thetford, stated among
others, the following pleasing facts :—
A tract distributer, in passing through
a village a few miles from where he
lived, met a man, whom he asked if he
could read; and, on being answered in
the aflirmative, he gave him a tract on
drunkenness. The man went to a we-
man who stood at her door, and said,
“ You have been telling that man I’m a
drunkard.” The woman of course de-
nied it. The man said, “You know
that I am the greatest drunkard in the
village, and you told him so, or he
would not have given me this book.”
The woman again said she had not, and
added, “ But he has hit the right nail
on the head.”—The tract proved the
means of converting this man. As the
first fruits of this reformation, he went
to his aged father, whom he had fre-

quently beaten, fell on his knees, and
begged his pardon. After this he was
engaged at harvest, at which, according
to custom, the farmer gave a feast. He
saw an old companion there ; and, call.
ing him out, told him, that unless he
left off drunkenness, and became sober,
he could not associate with him any
more. The man burst into tears, and
told him he had left it off, and that, in
fact, he had also been reformed, through
the instrumentality of a tract. He,
Mr. Fyson, had been told, by the mas-
ter of the man himself, that he was
astonished at the change in him, it was
so great. A clergywan called upon
him, Mr. Fyson, and expressed his
great joy at what had taken place in his
parish, which had originated from some
young men whom he had sent to distri.
bute tracts; the people had become
regular in their attendance at the parish
church, and the congregation wastre-
bled.
THE HUNTER AND THE
TRACT.-——Mr. H. was one day passing
through a small piece of wood, near
York, Upper Canada, to a Sunday school.
Seeing a hunter about to cross the path,
he asked him if he was on the direct
road to such a place. The hunter told
him he was not; that he must return
nearly to York, and take a different
road. Mr. H. thanked him kindly, and
taking a tract from his pocket, said, “I
myself have read this little book with
pleasure. If it be as useful to you, as
it has been to me, you will never regret
it.” “What is it?” said the hunter.
“ It is of the utmost importance to you,
my friend,” said Mr. H. ; “take it:
read it, and then read it again, and then
read it to your family.” The hunter
thanked him. Mr. H. went on his way.
After the lapse of a few months, Mr.
H. attended a prayer meeting in that
neighborhood. At the close of the ex-
ercises, a man came to him, and, after
the usual salutation, told him that he
was the hunter to whom he had, some
months before, on a Sabbath morning,
given alittle book; and then added, “That
tract brought me to the prayer meetihg
this morning: I feel thankful to you for
it. My mind has been troubled. I have
read the Bible. Since you have been
812
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACTS.
4-ll
O_—__-—p———_
so kind to me, I may as well tell you
the history of my life. I used to be
a mere devil at home, and was not
much better abroad. Liquor was my
ruin. Whisky, whisky, was my ruin.
I have read the little book several times:
1 have read it to my family, as they
were unable to read it themselves. But
every time I read it, and my Bible,I
feel worse. Sometimes I think there is
no mercy for me. My wife told meI
had better look for the man who gave it
to me.’ ’ Mr. H. gave him the best in-
struction in his power, from the Scrip-
tures, and left him. In a few weeks he
was in the same neighborhood, and again
saw the hunter. The hunter was then
indulging a trembling hope in the Lord
Jesus. “ I have reason,” said he, “to
bless God for the little book. Ihave
not spent my money in the usual way,
nor abused my family, since I received
it.” “SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES,” was
the title of the tract.
(g) THE TRACT IN THE JUG
HANDLE.—-A writer in the “Chris-
tian Index,” Georgia, states that a bro-
ther, calling at a blacksmith’s shop,
discovered a jug containing ardent spi-
rits, and put_a tract in the handle. The
blacksmith returned, resorted to the
jug, commenced reading—dashed the
tract upon the ground and trampled on
it-conscience awoke—he took it up-—
read, wept, and read again—and now
the despised family is respected; the
disconsolate wife is filled with joy; and
peace, love, and happiness reign where
sorrow made her home. What has
done this ’.l A tract that cost one-fourth
of a cent.
(It) THE LORD’S PRAYER IN
A BROTHEL.—-A gentleman was re-
quested to distribute tracts among some
houses of the worst description in Liver-
pool. He replied, “I should be willing
to go, but it would affect my character
to visit those places alone ; if any body
will accompany me, I will cheerfully
go.” A pious friend, advanced in life,
went with him. They entered a cellar,
and the tracts were received with
thankfulness by its inmates. They en-
tered another place, in which they found
six sailors carousing, in company with

six unhappy females. When the dis.
tributers entered, one of the sailors said.
“ Messmates, what are you come
about '2” “ We have something to give
you.” “That’s right, hand it over.”
“I will read some of it, if you please.”
The gentleman began to read a tract.
The seaman presently said, “Avast
there, mastez I think Ican read that
myself.” He ook it, and read about a
page and a hal ‘; it was the tract “ON
THE Loan’s PRAYER;” and then he
said, “I tell you what, master, this
won’t do. God bless you, sir, that ever
you ShOL1ld think of us poor creatures.”
“Come, master,” said another, “hand
it over to me.” He took the tract and
went on reading it, but soon burst into
tears, and said, “ Ah, master, we are
all wrong.” The gentleman then him-
self addressed them, and gave each of
them a tract. They all thanked him
in a grateful manner, and said, “God
bless you, sir, that any of us sailors
should be thought of.” The distribu-
ters had not gone far before they were
overtaken by one of the young women,
who said to one of them, “ Sir, I have
long seen the error of my ways, and
am most completely miserable.” The
gentleman appointed her to come to his
house the following evening. She ac-
cordingly came, and he brought her to
his wife, and a friend who was then
staying with them. The young woman
related her tale; it was truly “ a tale
of woe.” At its recital, the gentleman
and his wife, and their friend, all wept.
But joy was mixed With their sorrow,
hoping that the prodigal might be re-
stored to her father’s house. Her father
was a respectable person, living in
London; they wrote to him, and took
the young woman under their care.
By the return of post they received a
letter, which satisfied them that the
statement she made was correct. They
gave her money suflicient to buy her
clothes, and paid for her journey home.
A letter of thanks was afterwards re-
ceived from her father; and also one
from the young woman, expressing her
gratitude to them as the means of re.
storing her to the paths of virtue, and
the socie v of her friends.
813
411
TRACTS, RELIGIL US.

fi
(2') SI-IOEMAKER AND COL-
PORTEUR.-~As I was passing from
house to house, on the second week in
January, (says one) inviting all to at-
tend public worship, then held every
evening, a shoemaker, about middle age,
replied, “No; I can’t attend. We are
on the point of starvation, and it takes
me morning, noon and night to get some-
thing to live on. I used to go; but I
have been a hard character these last
nine years, and we now see the conse-
quences of it.” Who can tell, thought
I, but here is an immortal spirit that
may yet be a star in the Redeemer’s
crown; and does not his providence
beckon me here to concentrate humble
prayer and efforts’? I called the next
day, and found he was the son of a
Methodist preacher in Ireland. That
for about nine years he had frequented
the grog shop, and often reveled in gross
intoxication, which led to quarrels, abuse
of his family, and want of bread to sat-
isfy their hunger. I-Iis Sabbaths were
whiled away among intemperate com-
panions ; he had become an advocate of
infidelity, and for about three years had
not entered the sanctuary. After a
miserable fight, a few days before I saw
him, from which he reached home at
three in the morning, no unusual hour,
he was about to take the law of his an-
tagonist, when he said to himself;
“ What a fool I am. I am reduced to
poverty and misery; my wife and chil-
dren are wretched, and it is all from
strong drink and my ungodly associates.
Henceforward, God helping me, not
another drop, and no more of such com-
an .”
‘IV hen I manifested an interest in
his moral and spiritual welfare, he
grasped me, as ifI had been adeliverer
sent from heaven. He felt that the re-
sistless temptation lay in his companions,
and that he must get a new train of so-
czal influences, or he was lost. I preach-
ed to him “ Christ crucified”——sin, and
salvation from sin through atoning blood;
and as I saw him almost daily, for
many weeks, I found, all the way, that
his sorrow for sin, discernment of the
plan of salvation, love of the Bible and
of the people and sanctuary of God,
went forward of my anticipations, so

—_
that I seemed rather to be watching how
the Spirit taught him, than teaching him
myself.
His clothes, and‘ his wife’s clothes,
which had been pawned, were early
redeemed, with other aid, that they
might go to the house of God; and he
was helped to resume his business with
more energy and advantage. He early
gave his name to the total abstinence
pledge ; read me letters received in the
days of his folly from his father, which
rebuked him terribly, especially for
abuse of his amiable wne; and again
and again he poured out the full sorrows
of his heart over his heaven-daring sins.
At one time, raising his right hand
clenched, “ There,” said he, “ are five
bones which have been put out of joint
in fighting in my revels. I have been
a great sinner, and it is a wonder I have
not been cut off and sent to hell. I
have been guilty of every sin but mur-
der——yes, and of that, too, a thousand
times——I murdered Him who was mur-
dered for me.”
Speaking of the anguish caused by
his sins, I said, “Yes, but confessing
them to God, there ’s a pleasure in the
pain.” “ Yes,” said he seriously, in a
meditating mood, “ there is—it is so-—
I know it——I feel it.”
Soon he began to see more clearly
the sins of his heart, and even when
hoping in Christ, declared that the sin
and short-coming of every day appeared
to him, and were, probably, in the sight
of the heart-searching God more heinous
than were his outbreaking sins, which
were against less light and mercy. All
the earth, it would seem. would not
shake his purpose to trust evermore
wholly and alone in Christ, and join
himself irrevocably to his cause and
people.
But he did not come alone. His
wife would sit in silence, listening to all
that was said. I knew she rejoiced in
her husband’s temperance; but feared
that our religious conversation would
pall upon her ear. Sometimes I said:
“I want you to take each other by the
hand, and come togethcr—--place your
feet on the Rock of Ages, and devote
yourselves to the service of Christ;
train up your children for him; be 1
814
HAPPY EFFECTS OF TRACT S.
414
M
family for God, and nothing will turn
you aside.” To my surprise I soon
found that her heart had syrnpathized in
all she had heard; and she seemed as
steadfastly determined to serve the Lord
as was her husband ; and at length she
told me that the last three days had been
the happiest of her life. The care of
her little ones, and a want of clothing
which for some time I did not ascertain,
had detained her from the house of God ;
but when, after about ten weeks, her
husband proposed to join the church,
she felt that she also must claim to eat
of “ the children’s bread.” The evi-
dence of their saving conversion was
deemed satisfactory, and we, last Sab-
bath, sat down together at the table of
our common Lord.
The bonds that bound them to their old
associates are broken, and their friends
are the friends of Zion. They cheer-
fully bear their privations ; erected, some
weeks since, the family altar ; their
children were in the Sabbath school;
and now the first sound that strikes the
ear of the father, as he wakes at peace
with God, is often their morning hymn
of praise. The Bible and the place of
prayer are loved ; and not unfrequently
he, who once scoffed, points me to pas-
sages, especially in Paul’s epistles, so
rich in the fullness and glory of the gos-
pel and of the cross, that I must believe
he will have a harp to strike to his Re-
deemer’s praise for ever and ever.
My own soul has been richly blessed
in these interviews. I thank and praise
God for them and for what he has done.
Give me the joy of such labors, and it
is enough, till I join the song of, I trust,
these and all redeemed spirits before the
throne.
(is) THE STRIKIN G PICTURE.
--In a large manufacturing town in the
West Riding of Yorkshire, some pious
persons were in the habit of leaving
tracts at the difl'erent dwellings of the
poor. This was done every Sunday
morning, and the same tract was depos-
ited at each habitation. On one occa-
sion, the tract which came in course for
circulation, was the narrative of “ WIL-
LIAM KELLY.” There was a cut on the
frontispiece to this tract representing


the subject of the story sneaking bare-
headed from the presence of the storm-
ing hostess, who had seized his hat as a
security fora public-house score. Such
a circumstance actually did take place,
and proved the turning ‘point in his life
who was afterwards appropriately desig-
nated “ The Happy Christian.” The
disgrace of the incident induced sober
reflection, sober reflection issued in re-
pentance, and repentance in one of the
most pleasing specimens of lowly piety
that modern days can furnish.
This tract, thus embellished, was
left at the house of one of the most prof-
ligate drunkards in the place; and to
him, strange to say, a circumstance pre-
cisely similar to that which arrested
Kelly in his career, had occurred the
evening before. His hat being detained
for debt by the landlady of a neighbor-
ing alehouse, he had hastened homeward,
bareheaded, incensed and ashamed, and
retired to rest raging like a she-bear
robbed of her young. Sunday morning
found him sullen and perturbed ; he
hurried down stairs half dressed, and
flung himself into a chair which stood
beside the breakfast table ; when lo 1
the first object that caught his attention
was the frontispieee of the tract which
we have been describing, placed we will
not say accidentally, full in his view.
Glancing at it with an eye of fierceness,
he seized it, and striking the table with
his fist, at the same time uttering a fear-
ful imprecation, exclaimed, “ Those
villainous Methodists !—--if they haven’t
got me already painted up to be the
laughing-stock of the town ; here I am
without a hat. I’ll be even with them.”
Thus he raved till the tempest of his
an er had somewhat exhausted itself in
cat s and menaces; then, prompted by
curiosity, he thought he would ascertain
what was said concerning him. A near
inspection of the object of his wrath im-
mediately corrected his preposterous er-
ror ; but his curiosity having been
excited, he read the little narrative, and
the perusal was productive of the happi-
est effects. He resolved, in the strength
of God, that he would reform; he re-
paired to a place of worship, began to
search the Scriptures, and exhibited err-
815
415
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS.

ery symptom of real repentance. From
being a disgrace to society, a curse to
the neighborhood, and a scourge to his
family, he became one of the kindest of
nei hbors, most faithful of servants, best
of athers, and most sober of men.
The lessons to be gathered from this
interesting incident are sufiiciently ob-
tious. It needs no comment. There
is, however, one particular which de-
serves to be appended, because it strik-
ingly illustrates the principal inference
which ought to be deduced from the fact;
oven the perfection of that Providence
which orders the minutest circumstances
in wisdom. I well remember that the
venerable author was not a little cha-
grined, when he first saw the cut with
which his production was decorated :
he deemed it unfair to give such promi-
nence to the most disgraceful feature iii
the history of his friend. Yet this very
picture, insignificant as it might seem,
was destined to conduce to an event
which, contemplated in its bearings on
eternity, is of a magnitude too mighty
for a man to grasp.
416. Suicide Prevented. ‘
(a) TRACT IN THE BARBER’S
SHOP.-—At the annual meeting of the
Religious Tract Society, in 1824, the
Rev. S. Curwen related, that a poor
man was reduced to profiigacy, and de-
termined to rush, unbidden, into eternity.
He went into a barber’s shop, intending
to use one of the razors for his horrid
purpose. The boy had a broad sheet
in his hand, containing, “THE SWEAR-
ER’S PRAYER :” it had been left there to
be affixed to the wall. it engaged the
attention of this wretched man. It
struck him to the soul; he forgot his
urpose, but he could not forget what
lie had just read ; i.t brought him event-
ually to sit at the feet of our Savior, “in
his right mind.”
(5')) THE TRACT AND THE
HA LTER.——The following interesting
fact was communicated to the Board of
the American Tract Society:
A gentleman of respectable family
and genteel appearance, while traveling
816
on Long Island, indulged repeatedly in
drinking ardent spirits, contrary, it
would seem, to his usual practice ; and,
before he was aware, he became intoxi-
cated. Deeply mortified at finding him-
self in this situation, he resolved, in a
rash moment, to destroy himself, and
for this purpose retired to the woods.
After finding a suitable place, he took
from his hat the handkerchief with which
he intended to execute his dreadful pur-
pose 5 but, providentially, with the hand-
kerchief he drew out from his hat a
little tract, which arrested his attention.
It had on the title-page, “A Word in
Season.” He perused it ; it struck con~
viction to his heart; he instantly fell on
his knees, cried to God to have mercy on
him, and after continuing some time in
earnest prayer, arose, and made his way
to a neighboring house, where, happily,
a pious Christian dwelt. Here he gave
no sleep to his eyes, but spent the whole
night, like Jacob, wrestling with God
In the morning he returned to the city,
thanking God for the deliverance he had
effected, through the instrumentality of
the “Word in Season.”
(0) SUICIDE PREVENTED.--
The Rev. Basil Wood once related in a
sermon, that a person belonging to his
congregation, who had for some time been
confined by sickness, derived great ben~
efit from reading a certain tract. While
thus confined, he was visited by an ac-
quaintance who appeared to be laboring
under great depression of spirits. His
sick friend, observing his dejected frame
of mind, pointed to the tract lying on the
table, and requested him to sit down
and read it to him. He assonted, and
had not proceeded far in his task before
his whole attention became absorbed in
the contents of the tract. As he read
on, his heart became more and more
affected, till at length, unable to control
his feelings, he burst into tears, and
pulling a weapon of destruction from his
pocket, threw it upon the floor, exclairr
ing, “There, with that weapon was
just going to take away my own life, but
thought I would first look in to see you
once more before I committed the hor-
rid deed. What I have now bee“i1 read-
ing has saved me.”
9'
HAPPY EFFECTS ’)F TRACTS.
W
416
-“~
416. Conversion of the Heathen.
(a) FIRST ORIYA CONVERT.-
“ The conversion,” says a quarterly
missionary paper, “ of Gunga Dhor,
the first Oriya convert, a Brahmin of
high caste, and of great respectability
and influence among his own people of
every class, was an event of no ordi-
nary importance. It may, in truth, be
said, that, when Gunga Dhor threw off
his poita, the badge of his divinity, and
assumed a Christian profession by pub-
lic baptism, the temple of Juggernaut
received a severe shock. Then, that
progress of ruin commenced, which
will work till one stone shall not be
left upon another, which shall not be
thrown down. I/Vhen he delivered his
first Christian address, the Brahmins
gnashed their teeth upon him and ut-
tered their curses and imprecations,
wishing that he might die.
“ The first Christian light, which en-
tered Gunga Dhor’s mind, was from a
small tract, (written by Rev. Mr.
Ward), entitled ‘J ugernatha Ruth na
chullebar a kottha,’ or ‘The account
of the not proceeding of J uggernaut’s
car.’ The tract induced in his mind
a supreme contempt for that idol; then
he found other tracts and single Gos-
pels; these led him to the house of the
missionary at Cuttack, whom he woke
from his bed very early in the mor-
ning of January 1,1826, begging an
earplanation of his books. Mr. Sutton
was immediately sent for; and ‘great
was the day, the joy was great,’ when
the missionaries met the first Christian
inquirer at Orissa. He accompanied
Mr. Lacey on a tour to Calcutta; saw
Dr. Carey; returned to Orissa; part-
ed with kindred, friends, and every
thing for Christ; was baptized, and
became a laborious and faithful native
Chdstian evangelist.”
('2) RENOUNCING MOHAM-
MEDANISM.-—“ On a late visit to
Soerabaya, Java ” says Mr. Medhurst,
in 1841, “l was informed of a spirit of
inquiry which had broken out among
the natives of a village about eight
miles from that town, forty of whom
had resolved to renounce Mohammed-

-—¢ -— —---~-.-.
an customs, and to adopt the professior
of Christianity.
On inquiry, it appeared that one of
them formerly obtained a tract, at the
annual fa-ir held at Soerabaya, from
which he learned, that he was a sinner,
and in danger ofperdition, while the on-
ly Savior to whom he could loohfor help,
was Jesus Christ, the Son if God.
He communicated his views to some
of his fellow-villagers, who shared with
him in a desire to know more of this
new way. They accordingly proceed
ed further into the interior, to the
house of a Dutchman, who was in the
habit of instructing his tenants in the
outlines of Christianity; and having
been taught by him to a certain extent,
they were directed to go back to Soer-
abaya, and inquire further after Chris-
tians there. This, they accordingly
did, and have continued to this time
coming and going weekly for instruc-
tion.
They abstain from work on the Sab-
bath day; when they meet together,
they read the New Testament, sing the
tracts for hymns, and offer up such
prayers as they find therein contained.
They have committed to memory a
short catechism, printed in Javanese,
and know a great portion of the con-
tents of the tracts by heart.
Their knowledge of Christianity is
of course circumscribed, but they stick
fast to the great truth of trusting in
Jesus Christ alone for salvation. I
gave them what instruction I could,
during my stay, and put means in ope-
ration for having them regularly visited
in their own village, for the purpose of
maintaining Christian worship among
them.
(c) VVHAT Tl/VO CENTS CAN
DO.—The Rev. Dr. Scudder, 1842,
says, “ A young man belonging to
Panditeripo received from Rev. Mr.
Poor, the tract, ‘Heavenly IVay.’ On
reading it, he came to converse with
me on the sulqect of the Christian re-
ligion; placed nimself under the in-
struction of the sanctuary; dedicated
himself to Jesus in a covenant never to
be broken ; and in due time was receiv-
ed into the communion of the church.
52
817
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS.

_-1-—__-\ _
This young man became a valuable
helper in making known the Gospel of
Christ, and is, so far as I know, at this
day devoting his energies to the same
momentous work.
His conversion was followed by a
younger brother of his being brought
under religious instruction. He attend-
ed a meeting which Iheld for candi-
dates for the church, for nearly, or
quite, a. year, when he was suddenly
taken off by the cholera. When near
to death, his mother told him that she
must make offerings to her god, that he
might be induced to restore him. The
little boy replied, ‘I do not worship
idols; I worship Christ the Lord, and
if he is pleased to spare me a little
longer in this world, it will be well ; if
not, he will take me to himself.’ Not
long after, he lifted up his dying voice
and uttered, ‘I am going to Christ the
Lord,’ and I trust slept in Jesus.
After the death of the little boy, the
hoary-headed father came forward and
publicly professed his faith in the Lord
Jesus.
As the young man after his conver-
sion could not marry a heathen, he
chose a young female among his rela-
tions, whom he wished to marry, and
and her sent to the Oodoovill boarding-
school. There she remained a heathen
three years; but in the ever to be
remembered season, in which God vis-
ited the school at that place, in 1833,
she, with nearly twenty others, was
humbled at the foot of the cross, and
publicly professed her faith in Christ.
They have long since been united in
marriage, and I hope are training up a
Christian family in that land of dark-
ness. Such is the history of a-tract,
Which cost about two cents, and how
much more good in ages to come it
may do, will best be known in that day
when the affairs of the world are to
come to a close.
((1) PERSECUTED HINDOO.——A
Hindoo met a missionary in India one
day, and had ten minutes’ conversation
with him. It was a rule with the mis-
sionary, not to leave any one without
giving him a copy of the Scriptures, or
a tract. He gave the man some tracts
and a copy of the New Testament,

-v_'_
and heard no more of him. He al.
most forgot him. But the man did not
forget the missionary. He read the
books, and as he read them, he began
to feel that he was a sinner, and need-
ed some better Savior than a dumb
idol. Gradually he left off worshiping
idols, and no longer paid any thing to-
wards the support of the temple. Soon,
he said, “I want to go and see the
missionary again.” He had several
grown up children, and they exclaimed,
“No, you shall not go; for you will
only receive more tracts, and you will
disgrace us among our people.” At
the same time they brought fetters, and
bound him hand and foot, so that the
poor man could not stir. No Christian
was near to encourage him or to in-
struct him; but Christ was near, and
he prayed for the man, that his faith
might not fail. It did not fail. He
still resolved that as soon as his fetters
were unloosed, he would find his way
to the Christian teacher. For thirteen
years he was kept in chains! But the
Hindoo man had read his New Testa-
ment too well to forget it; and had
learned too much of his Savior"s love
to give it up.
How do you think he gained his
release at last? A wedding was
about to take place in the family, and
his children were anxious that he
should go to it; so they unchained him.
He took good care to put the tracts and
the Testament in his cloth under his
arm, without the knowledge of his
friends. He went to the place where
the marriage ceremony was to be per-
formed, and when they were all busy
and excited in the festival, he gave
them the slip, and made the best of his
way to the missionary’s house, which
was twenty-five miles off. VVhen he
arrived there, the missionary did no‘
remember him. He looked at him
from head to foot, but could not recall
him. No wonder! it was fourteen
years since he had seen him, and then
only for ten minutes. The man said
to him, “I Wish to be a Christian.”
He replied, “What do you know about
Christianity '2” He said, “Ask me
some questions, and I will tell you
what I know.” The missionary asked
818
HAPPY EFFE 'JTS OF TRACTS.
417
A r___
him some questions, and he answered
them all very correctly. Of course,
the missionary was very much surpris-
ed, and he inquired of the man how
he had gained his knowledge of esus.
He replied, “Did you not, when you
passed by my v.llage, fourteen years
ago, give me some tracts? They
taught me that Christ is the only Sav-
ior and I was unhappy as long as I
was a heathen. I have for some time
left off idol worship; and I should
have come to you before now to tell
you that I believed in Jesus, but I have
been chained to my house.” He then
showed the wounds which the fetters
had made on his hands and his feet. The
missionary was glad, and after some
further conversation with him, in the
course of a few weeks, baptized him in
the name of the Lord Jesus.
417. Conversion of Infidels.
(it) CHANGING BOOKS.--A pastor
in , related in substance the follow-
ing fact: An infidel in Western New-
York wished him a few years since when
residing there, to read one of his books.
He consented to do it on one condition,
viz., that the infidel would read one of
his in turn, which was “ Leslie’s Short
Metltod with Deists.” It was the means,
under God, of his hopeful conversion 5
and of the many whose minds he had
before polluted, he was the instrument
of bringing back ten or twelve to the
knowledge of the truth.
(1)) DESTROYING ONE’S OWN
WORKS.——A young man, says a tract
distributer, who has aided me zealously
for a week in the distribution of vol-
umes, informs me that a few months
ago he was the ringleader of about fifty
infidels in —--—. He was their preacher;
and that he might make the Bible ridi-
culous, he says he has taken it, and in
reading it publicly, put in words and
taken out others, to show his hearers that
it contradicts itself! The Tract, “ The
Sinner Condemned Already,” was the
means of his conversion, and he enter-
tains a lively feeling of gatitude to the
American Tract Society as the means
of his salvation. He is now anxious

to prepare to preach the Gospel, that he
may build up the faith he has labored
so hard to destroy. He has assembled
his infidel friends, renounced his infi-
delity, and preached Christ to them.
which he intends to do day by day.
(c) THE INFlDEL’S PRINCI-
PLES SHAKEN.—I was requested,
writes a Christian minister at Godal min g,
in Surrey, (England,) to visit a poor
man who was ill. Upon inquiring a:-
to his previous character, I found that
he had been the leader '\f a band of
infidels, who assembled weekly to con-
temn the Bible. I went; he confessed
what he had been, and expressed a de-
sire for spiritual instruction. The third
chapter of John was the one I chose for
reading, after which I prayed with him,
and left. The following week I heard
he was very desirous to see me. I
went, found him anxious to know “ how
he could be born again.” He was
much worse in body, and too ill to walk
across the room; but while I was en-
gaged in prayer, he got out of bed, and
knelt by my side. VVhen leaving, I
offered him a small donation, when he
replied, “ I don’t want your money, but
your instructions and your prayers. Do
come again.” I visited him many times,
and have reason to believe he was a
sincere penitent.
A short time before he died he said,
“ There is one thing which I am anxious
to know. Soon after I was afilicted, a
person brought me a small packet, but
was not to give it to me unless I should
engage to ask no questions. I promised,
and found a tract and half-a-crown.
The tract must have been sent by some
one who knew my character and prin-
ciples, and before I die I should like to
know the person.” I knew the history,
and satisfied him; but asked, “ \V hat
effect had the tract upon you.” He
replied, “it shook my principles, and
set me thinking.” He had forgotten its
title, but said it commenced with, “ How
do you use your reason ?” I said, “I
regard you now as a dying man, and I
ask upon what are you placing your
hope of mercy '2” He replied, “ Only
upon Christ.” I said, “ What ! upon
Him whom you have openly blasphem-
ed ?” “ Yes; wretch that I have been!”
819
4l8, 419
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS

Shortly after he died, and, I trust, en-
tered into peace.
41s Converts Distinguished for Usefulness.
Ka) BECOMING A MAN-OF-
WAR’S-MAN.-I know a man, said
Rev. Mr. Lord, seaman’ s chaplain at Bos-
ton, Who is now a member of the church,
and Was hopefully converted four years
ago by reading “ Little Henry and his
Bearer.” He went home; but on re-
flection, made up his mind to go on
board a man-of-war, for the purpose of
doing good. He shipped at Charlestown,
furnishing himself with tracts, Bibles,
and the Society’s volumes. The crew
were so wicked, that at the end of nine
months, the chaplain was compelled to
leave the ship. But this man and one
or two other pious men remained. At
last God blessed him. One of the men
was sent up to the fore-top-sail as a
punishment. He asked this man to lend
him a book, which he did. He was a
wicked man, and had been accustomed
to read Tom Paine and similar works.
But now he came down serious, and
inquired what he should do to be saved.
God opened the windows of heaven,
and in three weeks there were between
twenty and thirty inquirers, and fifteen
or twenty entertaining hope. There was
great and continued opposition from the
officers. But at the end of three years
and a half the vessel arrived, and eleven
men who had endured this fiery perse-
cution all this time, sat down to comme-
morate the clying love of Jesus.
(b) THE PHYSIClAN’S EARLY
I MPRESSION S.-—A pious young phy-
sician called on a gentleman one day,
after friendly salutations and expres-
sions, of Christian affection, said, “ Do
you know, sir, how much I am indebted
to you, for giving me a tract many years
ago '2” His friend told him he had no
knowledge of ever presenting him with
one ; but recollecting that the father of
this young physician formerly kept a
turnpike-gate, and /that often, when he
stopped to pay his tell, he used to give
tracts to the children who were playing
about the door, it occurred to him a spos-
sible, that he might have given him one
on some of these occasions. “When

fifl-_ ‘
I was a be} ," said the physician, “ you
gave me a ti act, as you were riding by
my father’s house, and the first words
that caught my eye were, ‘ Stop, poor
sinner! stop, and think.’ I was much
affected with the whole hymn beginning
with these words, and committed it to
memory. Five years ago, while a
member of an university, in a time of
universal attention to religion, I was
present at a meeting for prayer and
other devotional exercises, when they
commenced singing the hymn, ‘ Stop,
poor sinner! stop, and think.’ My early
impressions were all instantly revived:
Isaw that I was ruined by sin; that
an eternity of woe was before me; and
Ifound no peace till I looked to the
Savior who was crucified for me; and,
as I hope, by true repentance and faith
in his blood, gave myself to him, to be
his for ever.” This student became an
active, pious, praying physician.
419. Converts becoming Ministers.
(a) DR. COKE AND HIS HOS-
TESS’ FAMILY.—-In attempting to
cross a river in America, Dr. Coke
missed the ford, and got into deep water ;
he and his horse were carried down the
stream, and were in considerable dan-
ger; he caught hold of a bough, and
with some dimculty got upon dry land ;
his horse was carried down the stream.
After drying his clothes in the sun, he
set out on foot, and at length met a man,
who directed him to the nearest village,
telling him to inquire for a Mrs. ,
from whom, he had no doubt, he would
receive the kindest treatment. Dr.
Coke found the good lady’s house, and
received all the kindness and attention
she could show him ; messengers were
sent after his horse, which was recover-
ed, and brought back. The next morn-
ing he took leave of his kind hostess,
and proceeded on his journey. After a
lapse of five years, Dr. Coke happened
to be in America again. As he was on
his way to one of the provincial confer-
ences, in company with about thirty
other persons, a young man requested
the favor of being allowed to converse
with him; he assented with Christian
politeness. The young man asked him

820
HAPFY EFFECTS OF TRA ITS.
419
'_
if he recollected being 'n such a part
of America about five years ago; he
replied in the affirmative. “ And do
you recollect, sir, in attempting to cross
the river, being nearly drowned '4” “ I
remember it quite well.” “And do
you recollect going to the house of a
widow lady, in such a village?” “I
remember it well,” said the doctor;
“ and never shall I forget the kindness
wnich she showed me.” “ And do you
remember, when you departed, leaving
a tract at that lady’s house '!” “ I do
not recollect that,” said he; “ but it is
very possible I might do so.” “ Yes,
sir,” said the young man, “ you did
leave there a tract, which that lady read,
and the Lord blessed the reading of it
to the conversion of her soul; it was
also the means of the conversion of
several of her children and neighbors;
and there is now, in that village, a little
flourishing society.” The tears of Dr.
Coke showed something of the feelings
of his heart. The young man resumed,
“I have not, sir, quite told you all. I
am one of that lady’s children, and owe
my conversion to God, to the gracious
influence with which he accompanied
the reading of that tract to my mind,
and I am now, Dr. Coke, on my way to
conference, to be proposed as a preach-
er.”
(Z1) THE CAPT 5rlN’S CLERK.-
The Rev. J. C. Smith gives the inter-
esting history of a young man who was
a friend of the captain of the United
States ship Hornet; and had engaged
to sail with him, from the Navy Yard,
Brooklyn, as clerk on the voyage in
which the Hornet was lost——probably
in a hurricane in the West Indies. At
the hour of sailing Providence prevented
his embarking—but he had already,
when alone in the cabin, discovered in
the sideboard drawer a tract, (Heaven
Lost, by Baxter,) having on the title-
page a cut, with the words, “ if thou
art lost say not that thou hast not been
faithfully warned.” “ I was amazed,”
he says; “I trembled; I opened the
book and read its few but powerful pages.
The life, the energy, the reality I found
in every paragraph are fresh in my
memory. I began to pray, I searched
the Scriptures. I had received a wound

which nothing could heal but atenin
blood.” It was while in this state of
mind that the cruise was abandoned.
On his way home to Maryland, he found
in a steamboat, and read with profit,
another tract-—on the authenticity of
the Scriptures. The insignia of the
navy were laid aside. A desire to make
known the love of God to sinners was
awakened in his heart; he began to
prepare for, and in due time entered the
ministry. God has owned his labors
and blessed many souls through his in-
strumentality ; and few ministers have
a stronger hold on the affections of their
people than Rev. A. W . “the
captain’s clerk.”
(0) THE SOCINIAN AND THE
TRACT.—At one of the anniversaries
in Paris, a clergyman rose, and related
the case of a Socinian minister, who
had read many books of controversy
respecting the Divinity of Christ, and
the kindred evangelical doctrines, but
still remained a champion of Socinian
ism, living himself in darkness and sin
While in this frame of mind, he was
presented with a little tract, entitled
“The Best Friend,” which simply told
of Jesus. There was not one word or
controversy in it. But he felt that this
was just the friend he needed. He
laid the tract on the table, fell on his
knees, and yielded up his heart to
Jesus. “And now,” says the clergy-
man, “I am that man.” He is now
one of the most devoted ministers in
France.
((1) HOUS E-B RE AKER ANI)
THE TRAC T.—Hon. Mr. Vvilson,
agent in Vermont, writes that a respec-
table clergyman, while residing at the
West, became acquainted with a very
devoted minister who was converteu
under the following circumstances.
He was long a most abandoned, dis-
sipated character. One night he was
found trying to get into a neighbor’s
house at a late hour. The family
were aroused by the noise, got up, help-
ed him in and made him comfortable
till morning, and then put a small tract
in the crown of his hat, and sent him
l1ome.
When he discovered the tract, he
wondered how it should have come

821
Q20
TRACTS, RELIGIOUS
_ - W

there- He read it agam and again,
still wondering where such a message
should have come from. He was final-
ly brought under deep conviction for
sin, and fled to the Savior ; was drawn
to the ministry, and is now a very suc-
c<ssful preacher of the gospel.
4%. Rovivals and Numerous Conversions.
(a) THE N ORWEGIAN FARMER.
-—Many years ago, a Norwegian farmer
Was, at the age of twenty-five, in the
habit of making excursions from his
father’s dwelling, for the purpose of dis-
trib ting religious tracts, which he had
caused to be printed at his own expense,
and which he sold or gave away. The
effects of his labors were perfectly
astonishing ; not less than 50,000
peasants dating the period of their con-
version to sound and vital Christianity,
at the time when they first became
known to that remarkable individual.
To the sufferings which he had under-
gone, it is most distressing to advert ; he
endured eleven several imprisonments,
one of which lasted for a period of ten
years. There is a passage towards the
close of his journal, dated in the year
1814, from which it appears, that a fine
of a thousand rix-dollars was imposed
upon him, and that all which he pos-
sessed on earth was sold for the liquida-
tion of that debt: he might have escaped
it, could he have prevailed on himself to
petition the king, saying that he was
unable to pay the amount; but such was
his love of truth, that no consideration
under heaven could induce him to de-
clare a falsehood ; and, in consequence,
he suffered himself to be reduced to the
lowest degree of poverty: he allowed
every thing which he possessed, down
to the meanest utensil, to be sold, rather
than declare that which he knew to be
false.
(b) THE CADET AND GREGO-
RY’S LETTERS.—-Bishop M’Ilvaine,
in an address delivered at the anniver-
sary of the Naval and Military Bible
Society in London, in May, 1830, gave
the following pleasing statement :—
I was appointed chaplain to a military
academy in my native country. Iwas
forewarned of the rugged soil which I

was destined to cultivate; and was re—
commended to relinquish all idea of
making any progress in the work of the
Lord, under such circumstances as those
by which I was then surrounded.
Shortly after my arrival, I received a
communication from an oflicer in the de-
pot, stating that he should feel himself
accessory to a falsehood, did he not dis-
tinctly convey to me a faithful account
of the position in which I was placed.
However I might believe and rejoice in
the doctrines which it was my duty to
inculcate, there were those among my
congregation who believed not a word of
them ; and he reckoned himself among
the number of the unbelievers. He had
to state further, that he believed there
was not a person in the neighborhood
who put the slightest faith in my doc-
trines. I have reason to believe that the
individual from whom I received that
communication, professed opinions little
different from those of an atheist.
One day, soon after my appointment,
a cadet came to my apartments, and told
me that his father had recently died,
and that he had enjoined him to come
and seek my acquaintance. I gave the
young man a tract ; it might not produce
its effect at the moment, but it was like
throwing bread upon the waters: there
was little doubt that it would be found
after many days. In two weeks from
that period, a young man, one of the
finest in the academy, came to me, at-
tired in his full uniform: his eyes were
filled with tears; his utterance was
nearly choked with emotion. At first,
it appeared to me that he had been the
victim of some sad disaster; at length,
he articulated the words, “ Gregory’s
Letters!” He stated that he had been
brought up without religion ; that he had
lived unacquainted with God; that his
mind was disposed towards skepticism.
“ Gregory’s Letters” had fallen into his
hands; and such was the effect which
they produced upon his heart and mind,
that, when reading them, he could not
refrain from laying his hand upon the
table, and saying, “ This must be true.”
He told me that he had found a tract in
his room, but was ignorant how it came
there. I explained to him how that
tract had been given away by me 5
822
TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRI'I S.
420. 12]

-— -__~ ._
and how it had found its way to the
man by whom it was needed. When
the young man to whom I had given
the tract was on guard, this oflicer had
put the very tract which he had found
into his friend’s hand, for the purpose
of ascertaining how he felt on the sub-
ject of religion. The effect was such,
that in a short time both were on their
knees; soon after, they came to my
apartments, and one of them, throwing
his arms round my neck, inquired what
he should do to be saved. It soon came
to be whispered abroad that many per-
sons were inclined to attend public wor-
sh1p ; and it was not long before there
were many professing, steady, zealous,
practical Christians. Nor was it long

before our prayer meetings were joined
by the professors of military and civil
engineering, the professors of miner-
alogy and chemistry, and the instructor
of artillery, and as man; as seventeen
cadets.
(c) “THE GREAT QUESTION
ANSWERED.”-—It is related by Dr.
Henderson, that during his travels in
Northern Europe, he was detained for
a time in Copenhagen. While there,
he states that he employed himself in
translating the tract entitled, “The
Great Question Answered,” and that
the circulation of this tract had been
traced as the source of all the Bible
Societies in Russia, Sweden, and the
neighboring countries.
TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS.
421. Injurious to Customers, their Friends,
and the Community.
(a) THE TWO RED CENTS.-
A grocer in Clinton County, N ew-York,
sold a drunkard a pint of new rum ac-
cording ts law, and made two red cents
clear profit. The drunkard shot his
son-in-law while intoxicated; and his
apprehension, confinement in jail, exe-
cution, &c., cost the county more than
one thousand dollars, which temperate
men had to earn by the sweat of their
brows ! What say you, tax-payers, are
you willing to pay a thousand dollars
to enable the grog-seller to make two
red cents ’!
(Z2) THE Tl/VO RED CENTS
AGAIN.--About the 1st of July, 1843,
an Indian, one of those half-civilized,
rum-loving creatures who abound in
the VVest, stepped out of Cataraugus
County into the State of Pennsylvania,
“'L‘ere, it seems, men are sold indul-
gences LO sin, as well as in the Empire
State ; and then filled his pocket- bottle
with real “ red-eye,” and the seller of
the paison made two red cents clear
profit. VVhile under its maddening in-
fluence, he went into a farmer’s house
near by, with whom he was totally un-
acquainted, and murdered a mother
and five children--all that comprised


the little family, except the :-usband
and father, who was from home.
When he returned to his little interest-
ing family what a sight met his eyes!
-enough, it would seem, to curdle his
blood, and change the man to stone.
There lay the mother and her five little
ones—from ten years of age down
to infancy-—stretched upon the floor,
swimming in blood, and ali dead!
Oh! what desolation was there!
(0) “ WHAT HAVE I DONE THAT
I SHOULD BE USED SO Z”—-
said a forlorn woman, whose appear
ance gave every assurance of poverty
and suffering, while she covered her
eyes, no longer capable of shedding
tears. The fountain was dried up.
“Used how?” I asked. “ He,”
pointing to a rum-seller living on Ches-
nut-street, “he took my husband, as
faithful a man as ever wedded woman,
got all his money, burnt up his heart,
ruined his body, palsied his tongue.
and sent him home to inflict on me all
the curses which overhung his own
guilty head, and on his family, shame,
that neither toil nor tears can wipe
away ; and now that husband is in the
grave, with no one to weep for him, or
console his wife and children.
My son caught the spirit and follow-
ed the example of his father; was en-
823
r22,42e
TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS.
mp
ticed by the same rum-seller, and
drained of all that he could earn or
supply, till he came back upon me, not
a son, but a useless carcass, quickened
with the spirit of a fiend, and has end-
ed his career, not in death, but crime,
at the thought of which I cannot hold
up my head; widowed, childless, and
old. Oh God! what haveI done that
I should be used so 2”
Our heart melted over this picture
of wo, as we exclaimed, “God will not
allow the cry of the widow to go un-
heard, or her cause unavenged.”
Alas for the man whose business
calls him to such responsibility I
4%. Injurious to rtraffickers and their
Families.
(a) FARMER TURNING RUM-
SELLER.—D. B. was an industrious
farmer. and by great prudence and
economy, had accumulated a capital
of near $5000.--Hitherto, industry and
frugality had been the only means of
his advancement, but now more am-
bitious thoughts took possession of his
mind. He resolved to live more at ease,
and become a merchant in the village
of He procured a license for
selling liquors to be drank on the premi-
ses. Gradually, he became intemper-
ate ; at the end of three years, his wife
was a widow, his children fatherlessl
The amount found due the estate rather
exceeded the capital he had three years
oefore embarked in the business: but
of all these debts, less than $500 could
be collected. The remainder passed
through the hands of several intemper-
ate customers, and the family is left ut-
terly destitute.

423. Immoral in its Character.
(a) THE PETITIONER FOR LI-
CENSE.—Some twenty years ago, a
carpenter, who was tired of making an
honest living, came to a friend of mine
in Philadelphia, with a petition for a
tavern license, which he requested him
to sign. My friend looked at him, and
asked him why he did not stick to his
plane and bench’! The answer was,
“ Tavern keeping is a more lucrative
made ; I want to get richer.” “ Well,

.--..__-_
but do you not think you will be afford-
ing additional facilities to drunkards to
destroy themselves '2” “ Perhaps 1
shall.” “Do you not believe that at
least five men every year will die drunk-
ards, if you succeed in getting a li-
cense '2” “ Why, I never thought of
that before; but I suppose it would be
so.” “ Then if the Lord lets you keep
tavern ten years, fifty men will have
died through your agency—now what
becomes of the drunkard'2 Does he
go to heaven '2” “ I suppose not.” “I
am sure he does not, for no drunkard
shall inherit the kingdom of heaven;
what becomes of him then '2” “ Why,
he must go to hell.” “ 'Vell, do you
not think it will be just if the Lord, at
the end of ten years, sends you down to
hell too, to look after those fifty drunk-
ards '2”-—-The man threw down his pe-
tition, went back to his honest occupa-
tion, and was never tempted to desire a
license again.
(h) A RUMSELLER NO GOOD
CITIZEN .-—The Rev. John Chambers,
of Philadelphia, in a speech before the
American Union, said :—
“ A dealer in liquor was tried for
some crime, convicted, and sentenced
by Judge Parsons. The next day a
laywer waited upon the judge and told
him he could show a defect in the pro-
ceedings wherefore the man should be
released. ‘O,’ said the judge, ‘that
matter’s settled.’ ‘But,’ said the law-
yer, ‘he is a worthy man.’ ‘ A worthy
man I’ said the judge, ‘ and make drunk-
ards '2’ ‘But,’ said the lawyer, ‘ he is
a good citizen.’ ‘A good citizen,’ said
the judge, ‘ and fill up our jails and
almshouses and cause men to commit
murder and arson, and every iniquity?
That question’s settler , sir, and the man
must abide by the lav . The name of
that judge was Paasons, and may God
send us more such parsons as these !”
(0) THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN.
——At a certain town meeting, the ques-
tion came up whether any person should
be licensed to sell rum. The clergy-
man, the deacon, ano physician, strange
as it may now appear, all favored. One
man spoke against, because of the mis-
chief it did. The question was about
to be put, when all at once there arose
824
IMMORAL IN ITS CHARACTER.
423
iv.--—-f ,-
rom one corner of the room, a miser-
able female. She was thinly clad, and
her appearance indicated the utmost
wretchedness, and that her mortal career
was almost closed. After a moment of
silence, and all eyes being fixed upon
her, she stretched her attenuated body
to its utmost height, and then her long
arms to their greatest length, and rais-
ing her voice to a shrill pitch, she called
upon all to look upon her. “ Yes!” she
said, “ look upon me, and then hear me.
All that the last speaker has said rela-
tive to temperate drinking, as being the
father of drunkenness, is true. All
practice, all experience, declares its
truth. All drinking of alcoholic poison,
as a beverage in health, is excess. Look
upon me. You all know me, or once
did. You all know I was once the mis-
tress of ‘the best farm in the town.
You all know, too, I had one of the best
--the most devoted of husbands. You
all know I had fine, noble-hearted, indus-
trious boys. Where are they now’.2
Doctor, where are they now ’!-—You all
know. You all know they lie in a row,
side by side in yonder church-yard ; all
-—every one of them filling the drunk-
ard’s grave! They were all taught to
believe that temperate drinking was
safe,——e:z:cess alone ought to be avoided ;
and they never acknowledged emcess.
They quoted you, and you, and you,”
pointing with her shred of a finger to
the priest, deacon and doctor, as authori-
ty. “ They thought themselves safe
under such tender teachers. But lsaw
the gradual change coming over my
family and prospects, with dismay and
horror; I felt we were ‘all to be over-
whelmed in one common ruin; I tried
to ward off the blow; [tried to break
the spell, the delusive spell—in which
the idea of the benefits of temperate
drinking had involved my husband and
sons; I begged, I prayed; but the odds
were greatly against me.
“The priest said the poison that was
destroying my husband and boys was a
good creature of God ; the deacon (who
sits under the pulpit there, and took our
farm to pay his rum bills,) sold them
the poison; the physician said that a
little was good, and emcess ought to be
avoided. My poor husband and my

dear boys fell into the snare, and they
could not escape, (there were no Vv’ash-
ingtonians then,) and one after another
was conveyed to the dishonored grave
of the drunkard. Now look at me
again, you probably see me for the last
time——my sand has almost run. I have
dragged my exhausted frame from my
present abode——your poor-house-—to
warn you all——to warn you, deacon l——-
to warn you, false teacher of God’s
word ;” and with her arms high flung,
and her tall form stretched to its utmost,
and her voice raised to an unearthly
pitch, she excl-aimed——“l shall soon
stand before the judgment seat of God—-
I shall meet you there, you false guides,
and be a witness against you all.” The
miserable female vanished—a dead
silence pervaded the assembly—the
priest, deacon and physician hung their
heads—-the President of the meeting
put the question—Shall we have any
more licenses to sell alcoholic poisons,
to be sold as beverage ? The response
was unanimous, N o!
(d) A RUMSELLER CAUGHT.-
One of the speakers at a meeting in
Northern Liberties Temperance Hall,’
related the following striking incident:
He had been lecturing at a meeting in
Jersey, and dwelling quite plainly on
the course of the rumseller, when a
man rose and said, “Sir, I am one of
the trustees of this church, and you call
me a murderer.—-You can’t have this
church to lecture in anymore. Iap-
peal to those around me to say if I am
a murderer.” A woman instantly rose
and cried out, “ Yes, you are a murderer,
you murdered my husband by giving him
rum.” Another woman exclaimed,
“Yes, and you murdered mine also!”
This was plain dealing, and the rum-
seller and trustee must have felt his
casks of liquid fire pressing with heavy
weight on his soul about that time.
(e) THE PORTUGUESE TRAF-
FICKERS REFORMED.——Says the
Maryland Temperance Herald, a man
who was in the habit of selling a con-
siderable quantity of liquor, a Portu-
guese by birth, who had settled on the
eastern shore of Maryland, related the
following account of his own experience:
I went to a temperance meeting; the
825
423
TRAFFIC IN ARDENT SPIRITS
speaker said a good many things which
hurt me very much. I felt angry with
him, and would not go any more for
some time ; but a short time after, while
I was absent from home, one of my
neighbors sold a man a gallon of rum,
he got drunk upon it, went home and
killed his wife. VVhen I returned, I
said to myself, What if I had sold this
man the rum’.2 No, but I did not sell
it. But something said, but if you had
been at home you might have sold it to
him. I said to myself, Iwill sell off
what I have very cheap, and then Iwill
sell no more. But something said, you
may sell to some other man, and he may
kill somebody,—that won’t do. Then I
will send it back to Baltimore to the
merchant I bought it of; but something
said, that won’t do. He may sell it to
somebody who may get drunk and kill
somebody also; that won’t do. I heard
soon after of a temperance meeting ; I
went there 5 I almost ran, I jumped
over the heads of the people; I said,
put my name down. Somebody said,
Mr. , what will you do with your
liquor’.2 Oh! I said, that is settled.
So early the next morning I turned all
my liquors out, and pulled out the spigot,
and said, from the earth you came and
to the earth you must go back.
THE ELDER’S TWELVE
PRAYERS.-—Elder S was a dis-
tiller, carried on the business largely,
and supplied his neighbors with the good
creature. At length one and another,
and another, became drunkards, squan-
dered away their property, and reduced
their families to beggary and wretched-
ness. Nevertheless, the Elder continu-
ed to supply them, “ for the public good,”
and being a sober man, did it very
regularly. By and by one of his cus-
tomers came to settle with him, and on
settlement owed him twenty dollars;
and yet had nothing to pay, and nothing
with which to supply his family with a
rag of clothing or a morsel of bread.
He and they were literally destitute.
And the Elder inquired of himself,
“ I/Vhat has made this man a drunkard,
and brought his family to poverty and
wretchedness '2” Conscience answered,
“ Your whisky.” “ And who must



-I-—-
answer in the day of judgment?” salt!
the Elder. Conscience replied, “ You ;"
and spoke with a voice which the Elder
could not but hear. He went away
heavy-hearted; and sorely pressed, as
conscience continued to echo, “ You
must answer at the day of judgment for
making that man a drunkard.” He
retired to bed, but not to rest, or to sleep.
He got up, kneeled down and prayed,
and went again to bed, but obtained no
relief. He got up, and kneeled down
and prayed again, and retired, and so
again and again, till he got un, prayed,
confessed his sins, implored mercy,
prayed for the man and his family
whom he had ruined, and laid down no
less than eleven times. And his distress
grew greater and greater. Not only
this man, but one, and another, and
another, great numbers whom he had
made drunkards, and for whose ruin he
must answer at the day of judgment, rose
up to his view, and he was well nigh over-
whelmed with the conviction of his guilt.
He rose and kneeled down the twelfth
time before God, and not only confessed
his sins, but now, for the first time, re-
solved without delay to forsake them. He
promised, before the Lord, that no por-
tion of his time, or property, should eves
again be employed in making that which
tends to destroy the bodies and souls of
men. And he meant what he said.
He then laid down and slept till morn-
ing Next morning he rose, cleared
out his distillery, and said that no whis-
ky should ever be made there again.
He made known his determination to
his children and his neighbors. One
of them thought he had become too su-
perstitious, and ofi'ei‘ed them for the use
of his distillery five hundred dollars a
year. But he utterly refused, saying
that none of his property should ever
again be employed by any body in that
way. He held to his resolution till his
death, and tried to induce all to follow
his example. With his children he was
successful, and numbers of them before
his death were hopefully made partakers
of divine grace and heirs of the king-
dom of God. The Elder appeared to
live the life and die the death of a peni-.
tent, and went to give up his account
826
UNIVERSAL. SM.
424
_._-H _ -_—--_. -- ’--—_._

I_~-u--- _-_'~_”~._ - - ~— .~. ~-
to the Judge of the quick and dead.
There he expected to meet with many
whom his business had ruined, but as,
during the time of divine forbearance,
he trusted that he had confessed his
sins, he died, hoping for pardon, through
the boundless mercy of God in the
Redeemer.
UN IVERSALISM.
424. Moral Tendency of Universalism.
(a) END OF THE SQUIRE/S
UNIVERSALISM.—-Some three or
four years since, (says the New-York
Evangelist of 1832) -the Universalists
of B , Allegany Co., New-York,
met for the purpose of forming them-
selves into a religious society; and
certain of them supposing prayer to be
long to a transaction of this kind, the
inquiry was made for some one of the
“brethren” to open the meeting by
prayer. But in vain. Not one among
them all could be found to open or close
the meeting in this appropriate and
solemn way ! One of them, Mr. H ,
a justice, perceiving this, and having
an idea that religion was a serious,
prayerful concern, “ took the hint,” and
left them! He thought it unsafe to
embark his religious and eternal in-
terests with a prayerless, not to say
wicked people. Hence the beginning
and ending of the squire’s Universalism.
(12) THE JUDGE AND THE
PREACHER.--In one of the Middle
States, a Universalist preacher made
great efforts to establish a society of his
own faith. A few persons, of little
character and influence, were deepl
anxious that such a society should be
formed amongst them, but knew not
how to efi‘ect their object and build a
house. It was finally agreed, that the
preacher and one of his followers should
wait on a distinguished judge who re-
sided in the village, and solicit his
patronage. The judge heard the lo-
quacious preacher with great patience
for almost half an hour, when he closed
by asking the judge’s aid in establish-
ing the society.
“ No,” says the judge: “I shall not
be disposed, sir, to lend you any assist-
ance in forming such a society. For
in the the first place, it seems to me



‘ that your system of faith is not support
ed by the holy Scriptures. I confess I
am not so thoroughly versed in those
‘writings as I ought to be; yet I should
hardly know how to express the eternity
of future punishment more clearly than
I often see it there described. But this,
sir, I do believe, (let the Scriptures say
what they may,) that were all clergy-
men to preach this doctrine which you
preach, there would scon be a hell in
this world, if not in the next.” The
judge then added with seriousness, that,
if all who profess to preach the gospel
were to adopt and inculcate such senti_
ments, he did not believe it would /be
possible to hold civil society together.
Human laws would he trampled under
foot, and their penalties, if not backed
by Divine threatenings, would be but a
subject of mockery. With these views,
he 1nust be excused from making any
efforts to establish a Universalist society
in that place or any other.
(0) IBELIEVE IT, BUT DON’T
PREACH IT.-—After Mr. Haynes
was dismissed from his charge in Rut_
land, which he had held more than
twenty years, he was employed about
two years as a stated supply to the
Congregational church in Manchester.
In this town was a Universalist society,
which was supplied with only occasional
preaching; but, as in most other cases,
its adherents were very fond of discuss-
ing their sentiments with other denomi-
nations. One of these took frequent
occasion to dispute with Mr. Haynes:
and though he generally, 11ot to sav
always, came off second best, he seemed
determined to renew the controversy
on every convenient occasion.
At the close of one of these inter-
views, apparently under the full con-
viction of his own inferiority, he said:
“ Mr. Haynes, you are a learned man,
and I cannot argue with you; but I
827
124
UN IVERSALISM.
-

-___-—-_~ '

expect one of our ministers here before
long, and I intend to bring him to see
you; he will be able to defend our
doctrine.” Mr. Haynes replied, in his
usual good-natured way: “ O, Well:
bring him along; I shall be pleased to
talk with him.”
Some weeks afterwards, the Univer-
salist minister arrived ; and the parish-
ioner embraced the first leisure hour to
take him up to the village to see Mr.
Haynes. On their way, they were met
by one of the brethren of their own
faith, who, after learning whither they
were bound, advised them to turn back ;
“ for,” said he, “ he is an old fox, and
you can’ get to the windward of him.”
They, ho.vever, persisted in their pur-
pose, and soon arrived at the parson-
age.
Mr. Haynes was called from his
study, to receive the visitors, without
knowing or receiving the least intima-
tion who they were. As he entered
the room, the parishioner, after ex-
changing compliments, said: “ Mr.,

Haynes, this is Mr. , my minister,
whom I promised to bring to see you.”
“How d’ do, how d’ do '2” said Mr.
Haynes, taking the minister familiarly
by the hand; “well, you are the man,
then, who preaches that men may
swear, and lie, and get drunk, and
commit adultery, and all other abomina-
tions, and yet go to heaven after all :—
ain’t you '2” “No, no,” said the
Universalist minister, “I don’t reach
any such thing.” “ VVell,” said Father
Haynes, “ you believe so, don’t you '2”
This was a blow that completely
annihilated all desire for theological
discussion, and well nigh took away
the power of utterance from both the
minister and layman. After a few re-
marks on the state of the weather, and
the pleasant situation of the village, the
minister said to his attendant: “Is it
not time for us to be going '2” and
both withdrew, apparently satisfied to
dispense with all further intercourse.
(d) LEWIS C. TOl)D’S TESTI-
MON Y.—-Mr. Lewis C. Todd, who was
once a Universalist editor and preacher,
and subsequently a Methodist, in a
work of his published since his change,
lays:

“I became a preacher of universa-
salvation, and was ordained as such in
F airfield, Herkimer county, N ew-York,
some eight years ago. I believed the
doctrine true, and thought that in pro-
portion as it was propagated, mankind
would become good and happy. I
preached in different parts, far and near,
and itinerated over an extensive region
of country, suffering the excesses of
heat and cold, and the pitiless peltings
of stormy skies and muddy roads. No
danger or effort did I consider too great
that was possible; for I believe, for a
number of years, I should often have
rejoiced in the martyr’s privilege of
attesting my faith. Some years since
however, I occasionally reflected, that
although the doctrine had spread much
further than I anticipated, it did not
seem to produce the effects I had ex-
pected. This gradually cooled my
ardor and diminished my zeal, so that
for some years I cared but little whether
I preached or not. In this state of mind,
believing Universalism to be the true
sense of the Bible when rightly con-
strued, and being unable to see any
considerable good resulting from the
system, Iwas much inclined to doubt
Divine revelation. I could not go
entirely into infidelity, nor feel much
confidence in revelation.
“I had seen the blessed influences
of the doctrine spread out often upon
paper, but I could not see them any
where else! No—God knows I am
honest in this assertion. I do not feel
to abuse the denomination; but it is
true I could not for my life see any
good resulting to society from the senti-
ment. This conviction rolled in upon
my mind with tremendous effect. Alas '
thought I, have I been spending my
‘labor for that which satisfieth not?’
Are all my efforts useless, and only
tending to make looser the restraints
of religion and virtue '2
“I know individuals among them of
the most amiable dispositions and char-
acters, that would honor any profession
But I do not think that their doctrines
ever made them so. I candidly aver,
in the fear of God, that I do not believe
the doctrine ever made a single soul
any better than he otherwise would
828
MURAL TEN DENCY
OF UNIVERSALISM. 42¢

have been, while it has been the means
of removing necessary restraints, and
giving latitude to thousands whose pro-
pensities and passions needed restraint,
whereby they have indulged in criminal
pursuits and gone to perdition.
“ When I learn of a single drunkard,
or gambler, or debauchee, or knave,
being reformed in consequence of the
Universalist doctrine, I shall think bet-
ter of its influence than I do now 5 for
it is my solemn opinion that such an
instance never occurred. And I would
gladly hold up this truth to all the
friends of the doctrine, and make it
speak out in thunder to their con-
sciences; and then ask them if they
will still teach this doctrine to their
children.—]l[illenniaZ Harbinger, Vol.
[I., p. 492.
“I am personally acquainted,” says
the editor of the above-named periodical,
“ with some four or five Universalian
preachers, who have joined the church
of Christ of which I am a member, who
all say that Mr. Todd speaks their
experience, or who all concur with him
in opinion.”
(g) A CHILD’S INFERENCE.—
Some time since, a gentleman was at
the house of the widow W , in
T , and in the evening engaged in
vindicating the doctrine of Universal-
ism with zeal. The next morning, a
child seven or eight years of age, who
overheard the conversation the preced-
ing evening, said to her mother, we may
now steal, lie, and do other wicked
things; for there is no punishment for
us when we die.
(e) UNIVERSALIST’S AT-
TEMPTS AT SUICIDE.—-The editor
of the Western Recorder, published at
Utica, N. Y., says :—-We recollect to
have been present at the examination of
a candidate, who during his relation,
stated in substance the following details :
Educated very young in the orthodox
creed, he afterwards lived among the
Universalists, fully imbibed their senti-
ments, and gave himself up to various
indulgences, with a view of enjoying a
heaven both here and hereafter. In
process of time he became tired of his
earthly heaven, and thought it advisable
to die and try the other. An enormous


dose of laudanum taken for this purpose,
proved ineffectual ; and a little time
afterwards, he removed into our section
of the country. Once more he thought
it advisable to exchange the present
heaven for a better one. ’ Not doubting
of the issue or fearing death, he settled
up his accounts, procured two new
pistols, and fitted them with cool delibera-
tion, till he found they would not miss
fire. Having next loaded them, and
laid them aside for future use, he sent
for Mr. and Mr. , two Uni-
versalist preachers, to stand by him, and
bear witness to the world, that he died
in the full faith of that creed, and with
entire self-possession. The preachers,
however, advised him to desist. He
gave his reasons for dying, and going
where he should for ever be free from
trouble. But they finally told him, that
there was, after all, too much reason to
fear that there might be a hell. “ Why
then do you not preach so and tell us
of it fl” said he. “ It will not do,” they
replied, “ it will make the people crazy.”
Amid the conversation he stepped into
the hall 5 and, as he believes, with entire
self-possession, aimed the two pistols at
his head, and snapped them 5 when, to
his great astonishment, they both missed
fire, and were afterwards taken from
him. The strange results of such ef-
forts led him to salutary reflection. He
saw in it the hand of Providence--
thought upon his past conduct-began
to fear there might be a hell, and that at
least there ought to be a place of eter-
nal punishment for one so vile as he had
been. He sought forgiveness through
the blood of Jesus; determined to yield
unconditionally to his disposal, and to
serve him whatever might be the result.
) WHO THAT BELIEVES HIS
DOCTRINE COULD BLAME HIM '!
——A young man by the name of John
S , (whom the editor of this work
knew,) a confirmed Universalist, resided
in the town of R , N. Y. For
several years he had been subject to a
painful disease. One Sabbath while
alone, and engaged in shaving himself,
he turned his razor’s edge to his neck
and cut his throat. His friends, hear.
ing, likely, some disturbance, came in,
and found him bleeding to death. They



829
424
UNIVERSALISM.
-—----_- - ~

rushed up to him endeavoring to stanch
the blood, and with agony and horror
besought the dying man to tell them
why he had committed so horrible an
act as self-murder. He was just able
to tell them, that he had suffered a great
deal from his long illness, that he could
not expect to recover, that he was tired
of living ; and that being a firm be-
liever in the doctrine of Universal Sal-
vation, he had no doubt that all would
be well with him, and he had taken this
step to rid himself of his miseries and
go home to heaven I This was the sub-
stance of his explanation. It was found
impossible to save his life, and in a few
moments he expired. If all men are to
be immediately happy at death, why did
not John S. act consistently '5 Probably
if those who profess to believe the same
doctrine, were as confident of its truth
as he was, very many of them would
“ go and do likewise ”—cutting their
way to heaven through their own throats,
or swinging thither in a halter like J u-
das Iscariot.
(g) THE S‘/VEARER ENCOUR-
AGED.—Some time since, (says the
N. Y. Evangelist of 1832,) in the town
of , in New-York, a number®f little
boys, from eight to ten years old, were
engaged in play together; and during
their sport, two boys of a professed
Universalist used much profane lan-
guage, for which they were reproved
and reminded of the awful consequences,
by a boy whose parents are pious.
One of them promised that he never
would swear again, but the other re-
plied, “I shall go /0 heaven I swear
as soon as those that don’t swear.”
(it) AFFINITY OF UNIVERSAL.
ISM FOR INFIDE lJlTY.--—Universal-
ism and modern infidelity are twin sisters,
They mutually support each other.
We ventured the remark, says the Edi-
tor of the N ew-York Evangelist, a short
time since, before a large company of
infidels, that they had a strong affinity
for the Universalists—that they were
quite contented with any kind of preach-
ing that denied a future retribution,-—
and that the fact that the Bible taught
this doctrine, was their chief reason for
casting it away. We were acquainted
with the fact, that the infidels in our


neighborhood often frequented and pa.
tronized the preaching of Universalist
ministers. One of the chief speakers
at Tammany Hall being present at the
close of our discourse, in personal con-
versation, remarked, that what we had
said of Universalism was all true. He
added, “They often find fault with us
for being infidels. But why, I tell them,
find fault with us’.2 You have no hell
to put us in Z”
(2') THE SUICIDE AND THE
DRUNKARD.—-—Says the editor of the
Southern Religious Telegraph, “We
have known Universalists from our
childhood, but we have never known
one who appeared to embrace the creed
from an honest conviction that it was
the truth as taught by Jesus Christ.
One, within the circle of our acquaint-
ance, who was in other respects a man
of good moral character, and a respected
citizen, and who appeared to be more
honest in his religious opinions than his
brethren, committed suicide.’ Another
of his fraternity, who was so religious
as to pray with his family, and was
equally distinguished as a profane
swearer and a lover of strong drink,
died in a drunkenfit, in the street ! His
death corresponded with his life.
GETTING UP A UNIVER
SALIST PRAYER-MEETING.--An
interesting and intelligent young man
in Canada, gave decisive evidence of
a. change of heart, and made a pro-
fession of religion. The church had
strong hopes of his usefulness, and the
firmest confidence in his piety; but, for
some time they were much tried, in
consequence of his leaning to the doc-
trine of universal salvation. For years
the church was without any commu-
nion or regular preaching. He wan-
dered away from God and his brethren;
and, for a time, even the most sanguine
had almost given him up. He had not,
however, utterly lost a sense of divine
things and his own duty. And the sin-
gular proposal which he made to his
Universalist friends, and the result;
brought him to doubt, more than ever,
the practical tendency of their senti-
ments. As some of them worked in the
same shop, he one day asked them,
“ Why don’t you pray--why rio1:’t you
830
ABSURDITY AND FOLLY OF UNIVERSALISM.
425
have a prayer meeting ? If I am going
to be a Universalist, I am going to have
a prayer meeting.” They found he
was in good earnest. A Universalist
prayer meeting! How and by whom
should it be conducted ? The proposal
was not seconded. He did not succeed.
Reflection, and the merciful interposi-
tion of God, seemed to humble him, and
brought him back to the prayer meet-
mg and the communion of the church.
THEORY REDUCED TO PRAC-
TICE.—A young man in A., N. Y.,
had been visited by a sad misfortune,
and life had now but few attractions for
him. In this state of mind he paid a
visit to a Universalist minister, and con-
cealing his purpose, questioned him very
pointedly about his belief reapecting the
future destiny of different classes of evil-
doers. “ Do you sincerely believe that
the drunkard will be saved’.2 Will the
robber? Will the murderer’! VVILL
THE SUICIDE '2” To all these questions
the minister promptly replied in the
affirmative; it was his firm conviction
that, according to reason and Scripture,
all men, in whatever manner they lived
or died, would be happy after death.
After hearing his views on this subject,
the young man went back to the store
in which he was clerk, and committed
suicide in a manner too shocking to de-
tail. The next morning he was found
dead in his room, having literally cut
himself to pieces. The facts occurred
at A. in 1844, and caused a great ex-
citement at the time.
4%. Absurdity and Folly of Universalism.
(a) THE REJECTED PILLS.-
In a town in the interior of America,
the board of selectmen who governed
its local affairs was composed of four
tmiversalists, (or men who contended
for the final happiness of all mankind,
whether believers or not,) and a pious
physician. They acted through the
year in great harmony as to the busi-
ness of the town, but at their last meet-
ing it was determined to attack the doc-
tor. After they had finished their trans-
actions, one of them said, “ Doctor, we
have been very happy in being associ-
ated with you the year past, and that

the business of the town has been con-
ducted in harmony, and to the satisfac-
tion of our constituents. We have found
you to he a man of good sense, exten-
sive information, unbending integrity,
and of the purest benevolence. It is
astonishing to us, that a man of your
amiable character should believe the
doctrine of future punishment.” The
doctor replied, “ Gentlemen, I should
regret very much the forfeiture of the
good opinion which your partiality has
led you to entertain of me. Will you
have the goodness to answer candidly a
few questions’.Z Do you believe in a
future state Cl” They replied, “We
do.” “ You believe that death will in-
troduce all men to a state of perfect
happiness?” “Of this we have nc
doubt.” “ Are you now happy 2”
“ We are not; we are far from it.’
“ How do men act when they are un-
happy, and know that happiness is with-
in their reach 'Z’’ ‘‘ They endeavor to
attain that happiness.” “ Do you be-
lieve that I understand the nature and
operation of medicine?” “ \/Ve have
no doubt, doctor, of your skill in your
profession; but what has that to do with
the subject '2” “ In this box,” said the
doctor, taking a tin box in his hand,
“ are pills, which, if you swallow each
of you one, will, without pain, carry
you, within one hour, out of this world
of trouble; and, if your doctrine be
true, place you in a world of perfect
felicity. I/Vill you accept one of them ?”
“ No, sir.” “ \¢Vill you ?” “ No, sir.”
When they had all refused, the doctor
said, “You must excuse me, gentle-
men, from embracing your doctrine,
untilI have better evidence that you
believe it yourselves.” This closed the
debate.
(1)) NOT NEEDED OR NOT
WANTED.—-Mr. VV., a Universalist,
preaching at the village of M , where
a large congregation had come out to
hear something new, endeavored to con-
vince his hearers that there is no pun-
ishment after death. At the close of
his sermon, he informed the people, that
if they wished, he would preach there
again in four weeks; when Mr. C., a
respectable merchant, rose, and replied,
“ Sir, if your doctrine is true, we do not

831
-125
UN IVERSALISM.

_
W
need you ; and if it is false, we do not and Dr. H. were personally stranget 5;
want you.”
but knowing something of each other
e) A UNIVERSALIST BIBLE.—— b re utation, the readil introduced
I Y P Y Y
There once lived in England a man themselves.
I
I
who professed to believe in the final sal-
vation of all rr an. To sustain this doc-
The General very soon
lifted up his standard, and began his
war of words—not doubting that, though
trine, whenever he came to a passage . he might fail to convince his opponent,
I
in the Bible which seemed favorable to he should at least show him that he was
his creed he turned clown a leaf. In I no ordinary combatant: but knew well
this way be converted his Bible into a I on what ground he stood and how to
kind of Universalist Text Book for the ' wield the sword of sectarian warfare to
indoctrination of his family. He had a good advantage.
son, who imbibed the sentiments of his
father. At the death of the father, the
son inherited the Bible referred to, and
in accordance with paternal example,
he used to read where the leaves were
turned down, and comfort himself in the
belief that the way of sin is not death.
After a few years the young man re-
moved to the West. He went to hear
a Universalist minister preach. The
sermon being rather a lame perform-
ance, the man, so far from being con-
firmed by it, was rather shaken in his
confidence. He thought, however, that
he could make a stronger argument
himself. He went home and sat down
to the task. But the Bible with the
leaves turned down was away in Eng-
land, and he had forgotten where to
look for the detached portions upon
which he rested his faith, and thus was
forced to read his Bible in its legitimate
connexions and dependencies. So he
read on, chapter after chapter, looking
all the while for his favorite doctrine.
But he did not find it. Nay, he was
soon convinced that in order to salva-
tion he must be born again. He sought
and soon found eace in believing.
(d) THE UNIVERSALIST CON-
FOUNDED.——Dr. Harris, of Dunbar-
ton, walking out one day in one of the
large villages of a neighboring State, he
met one of the champions of Universal-
ism. It was Gen. P , the leader
and main supporter of the large Uni-
versalist society, which had for many
years existed in that place. He was a
high-minded man, quite wealthy, and
very influential—having a good deal of
general information, and considerable
skill in argument——which last he did
not hesitate to use whenever and wher-
ever opportunities were presented. He

I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
The Doctor heard
him through: then calmly turned to
him, and said--“ General P it is of
no use for us to contend. \/Ve shall
probably not convince each other, by
arguments ever so protracted. But
there is one thing in relation to this
matter which deserves consideration.
It is this. I can treat your religion just
as I please,I can turn from it, as an
utter abomination ; I can despise it;
I can spit on it, and trample it under
my feet—and yet after all I SHALL BE
sAvEn—-sha’n’t I, Gen. P ?” The
General, of course, was obliged to as-
sent, or give up the doctrine. There
was no room for evasion. “ But,” add-
ed the Doctor, while the General was
writhing at the contempt thus thrown
upon his gods, “it will not do for you
to treat my religion so. If you do, Yot
ARE A LOST MAN I” This was enough—-
nothmg more was said.
(e) THE INFlDEL’S CHARGE.
—An infidel in the town of C., Allegany
Co., N. Y., meeting one day with a
Universalist. addressed him in a strain
like the following. “You Unlversaiists
are the most inconsistent theorists in the
world. You say there is no future pun-
ishment, and yet you profess to believe
the Bible, and, what is more absurd,
attempt to prove your doctrine from the
Bible! You stretch out one passage
interminably, and out another short off;
you pull connected sentences apart, and
put disconnected sentences together;
and you set prophets at war with pro-
phets, apostles at war with apostles, and
each one at war with himself. As sure
as your Bible is true, so surely there is
a hell. For my own part, I do not be-
lieve there is a hell any more than
yourself; but, more consistent, I throw
the doctrine of future punishment out of


832
DEATH OF UNIVERSALISTS.
425, 426
,-_._--Q-~__-1 'w0-g-._-- - ‘-


~.—--—-
my creed, by first throwing out the Bi-
ble itself. And there is no other way
to appear consistent. Get clear of that
old book, and then you can easily get
rid of the rest.”
(g) THE DEVIL ONLY AN EVIL
CON SCIEN CE.—-It happened in a town
with which I am somewhat acquainted,
says a gentleman in England, that three
gentlemen met together in‘ an omnibus,
which was going a few miles out of the
town. One of these three gentlemen
was a grave and venerable divine, the
others were Universalists; there were
several other persons in the carriage.
First Universalist. (Addressing his
friend,) Well, sir, was you at the Hall
last evening to hear our friend Rushey ?
Second Universalist. N 0, I was not.
F. U. That was a pity, for Rushey
did the business most manfully; you
know the subject was whether there is
any evidence if the being and personality
of the devil. I assure you he gave the
most solid and positive proofs that there
is no devil. And, indeed, there cannot
be found, now-a-days, any man of com-
mon sense who believes in the existence
of the devil, or who will attempt to prove
such a doctrine; I say, (looking our
divine full in the face,) I say, no man
of common sense can believe in such an
absurdity.
Divine. Sir, I lay claim to common
sense, without pretending to any thing
more, and I believe that there is a devil.
F. U. Ah! do you, sir’.Z do you,
indeed? I am astonished! I am aston-
ished! Believe there is a devil! be-
lieve there is a devil! after what Mr.
Rushey has said, and many others be-
side, who have with equal clearness
proved the contrary’.Z O, no sir, there
is no devil; it is only a trick of the
priests: there is no devil.
D. I suppose, sir, you believe in the
Scriptures.
F. U. O yes, sir, to be sure I do:
it was from the Scriptures that Mr.
Rushey gathered his proofs.
D. Well, then, do we not read again
and again of the devil in the Scriptures '2
F. U. Truly, sir, truly! but devil
means only an evil conscience!
D. Ah, indeed! an evil conscience;
an evil conscience ; let us try it: “ Now

there was a day when the sons of God
came to present themselves before the
Lord, and Satan came also among
them”—an evil conscience came also
among them! “ and the Lord said unto
Satan”—and the Lord said unto an evil
conscience.
F. U. O, sir, you need not go any
farther there--to be sure, it does not
mean an evil conscience there.
D. Well, sir, we will try it in an-
other case: “Then was Jesus led up
of the Spirit into the wilderness, to be
tempted of the devil ”--to be tempted of
an evil conscience.
F. U. (A little mortified,) Why,
yes, it does not seem to huld good there
neither.
D. Let us try it once more: “ And
there was a good way off an herd of
swine feeding. So the devils”-—the
evil conscience—-“ besought him, saying,
If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away
into the herd of swine ; and he said
unto them, Go; and when they”-——the
evil conscience—“ were come out, they”
—the evil conscience--“ went into the
herd of swine.”
I have only to add, that the quotation
was arrested here, and that the evil
conscience of the Universalist was so
provoked, that you would have supposed
him possessed, rather than the swine!
(Ii) “ GO VVHERE YOU HAVE
A MIND TO.”-—About the year 1823,
a celebrated Universalist preached in
the court-house at N ew-Haven, Ct., and
at the close of his sermon had some dis-
putation with a clergyman of the city.
After hearing the debate awhile, one of
the audience took the liberty to ask the
following questions :--“ Reverend sir, is
it our duty to believe in the salvation of
all men ?” “Yes,” answered the preach-
er. Said the other, “ VVhere shall we go
when we die if we do not believe it ?”
“ Go where you have a mind to !” said
the preacher. This powerfully affected
the risible feelings of the audience, and
broke up the meeting.
4%. Death of Universalists.
(a) A DELUSION EXPLODED.
-—-Some time in the month of November.
1828, Capt. O. T., of N., when lying
53
833
426
UN IVERSALISM.

on his death-bed and a few hours before
the close of his life, in the full possession
of his reason, became alarmed, and sent
for the Rev. Mr. W., of U. On his ar-
rival, Capt. T. stretched out his hand,
and thus addressed him : “ I am a dying
man; I shall soon be in eternity. My
views and feelings are essentially al-
tered. For several years past, I have
ibllowed Wood and Ballou, Universalist
preachers, and believed as they did.
But I find It now all a delusion. Such
sentiments will do to lull the conscience
to sleep while living, but will not stand
the test in a dying hour. Tell my old
acquaintance and friends not to trust in
such refuges of lies, but to repent and
be converted.”
This is but one instance of a thousand,
which might be adduced, of the dying
confessions of Universalists, relative to
the fallacy and wretchedness of their
scheme.
Query. Did you ever know a person
on a death-bed become a. Universalist,
who had previously lived in the belief
of orthodox sentiments'2
(h) RECANTATION AND DE-
SPAlR.—David I/V. Bell, a zealous
defender of the doctrine of Universal-
ism, some of whose writings may be
found in the Gospel Advocate, a noted
mouthpiece of that pernicious system,
was called, in 1827, by the sudden
death of his two youngest brothers, to
visit his aifiicted parents, residing in
\Vindham, Greene Co., N. Y. Here he
was seized with the typhus fever, and
was soon brought to view the time as
not far distant, when he himself must
exchange worlds, and appear before his
Omniscient Judge. Now it was with
him an honest hour, and his presump-
tuous heart, that could boldly challenge
the injustice of God, now yielded to the
conviction of truth.
He exclaimed one day to his father,
"Father, I find eternal punishment,
which I have so long disputed, now to
be an awful reality.”
At another time he says, “As soon
as I am dead, write to brother E., in
fl.., and to Z. T. and S. T., that the
doctrine we have tried to propagate is
an awful delusion—-that it forsook me
on a death-bed.”

i--\-~ ---0'-.
His conviction of the nature of sin
was clear and pungent. Sometimes he
would cry aloud to God for mercy-—
again entreat his Maker to annihilate
him ; sometimes he would call on others
to pray—again would beg them not to
pray for him, for he had already sealed
his own damnation. “Oh !” said he, “ it
can alone be for the glory of God and the
good of others, for me to be damned!
I must be damned! I am damned !—
damned to all eternity !! I cannot live
in peace-—l cannot die in peace, without
an assurance that my renunciation of
that delusive and dangerous heresy, the
doctrine of Universalism, shall be made
as public as my defence of it was. Oh,
could I speak once to those deluded Uni-
versalists !” He died Sept. 29th, 1827.
“The above recantation,” says Da-
vid Bell, his father, “ was made by my
son when in the full exercise of reason.
Of this there are many witnesses. Nei-
ther was it extorted from him, or occa-
sioned by a sudden fright, as some may
pretend. It was from a deliberate and
settled conviction for weeks.”
(c) DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY.
--The subject of this notice was the
daughter of Universalist parents, and
had herself, together with others of the
family, become attached to the doctrine
of universal salvation. This furnished
a quiet to her fears, whenever her con-
science was oppressed with the guilt of
living in sin and rejecting the gospel.
The village where she lived was blessed
with a revival of religion. While many
were made subjects of the kingdom of
God, by being born again, the delusive
dream of Universalism led her to be-
lieve that there was no necessity of
being born of the Spirit, in the present
life. Suddenly, sickness visited her,
and recovery was impossible ; she must
die. But ah! where were her hopes
of heaven? The refuge under which
she had taken concealment was swept
away, and the wrath of God was re-
vealed from heaven against her un-
righteousness. She lost forever all
hope of being reconciled to God. The
offers of mercy she could not appro-
priate to herself. Her last hour was at
hand. A minister of Christ stood by,
and prayed for her departing soul. She
834
DEATH OF UNIVERSALISTS.
426
_ . __-p
could not ejaculate, “Lord Jesus! re-
ceive my spirit;” but with the giving
up of the ghost uttered a shriek that
will never cease to ring in the ears of
those who heard it.
A death so full of horror, made such
an impression on the minds of the
parents of the wretched girl, that they
abandoned a doctrine so treacherous,
and by the converting grace of God,
became hopeful subjects of the revival,
together with one or two others of the
family.
How many parents are there in our
country, who by their countenancing a
doctrine which they do not themselves
more than half believe, occasion their
children to adopt it, and thus inevitably,
here or hereafter, bring distress and
anguish on their souls.
(d) THE DIE IS CAST.——Rev.
Mr. S., once pastor of the Baptist
church in H., Mass., gives the following
account of an interview which he had
with a Universalist on his death-bed, in
1837. During Mr. L.’s illness Mr. S.
had called on the family once before;
but when the nurse informed her charge
that Mr. S. would like to converse with
him, the sick man sent back word:
“Tell him when Iwant to see him I
will send for him.”
The next and last time Mr. S. called,
which was two weeks afterwards, he
on 'ie at the especial request of Mr. L.,
who said he could not die until he saw
him.
As Mr. S. came to his bed-side, the
sick man opened his dying eyes and
said with much anxiety to his nurse,
“ Do you think that man will pray for
me '2” The preacher approached, and
as he took hold of Mr. L.’s hand, the
latter turned up his eyes and exclaimed,
“It is too late!” In detailing his
history, he stated that his mind was
susceptible, and his conscience tender;
but being led into the snares of Univer-
salism, his feelings of guilt and his
tenderness of conscience left him, till he
had scarcely any more religious sen-
sibility than a brute. Mr. S. directed
him to Christ as an all suflicient Savior.
“Ah!” said he, as at first, “it is too
late.” He knelt by his bed-side, and
mad to pray for him. Soon after

prayer Mr. S. felt called upon to return.
As he took the sick man’s cold and
motionless hand in his, to bid him adieu,
he said, in a loud, full voice, “ Do pray
for me when you get home. But I don t
expect God will hear; it is too late ; the
die is cast; my damnation is sealed.”
He died a few hours after, in awful
and utter despair.
(e) THE WAY TO GET FREE
FROM UNIVERSALISM.—The nar-
rator of this fact called at the house of
an intelligent member of the church in
the State of New-York, and in the
course of conversation learned, to his
surprise, that this individual had been
formerly a warm advocate of the doc-
trine of universal, unconditional salva-
tion. His narrative was briefly as
follows: “I was first led to embrace
the creed of Universalists by hearing
a sermon from the Rev. Mr. P .
The argument by which he convinced
me, was that he had formerly been a
minister of the Baptist persuasion, and
had been converted from that to his
present faith. I subscribed for a pe-
riodical in which these doctrines are
advocated, and read nothing else. I
looked occasionally into the Bible, but
it was only to select the passages
commented on by Universalists, with
a view of convincing myself of the
correctness of the interpretation; and
as it was my wish to regard these
passages in the light in which they
were represented, I became daily more
established in the faith which I had
embraced. My wife was very much
opposed to these sentiments. She mani-
fested her opposition in the most gentle,
inoffensive, and Christian manner; it
was simply by attending religious meet-
ings, and that frequently, where doc-
trines opposed to my own were advo-
cated. She was particularly fond of
attending prayer meetings. I manifested
my disapprobation; I treated her harsh-
ly; but she still resisted my efforts to
keep her at home, with the same meek,
Christian spirit. After awhile,I was sub-
dued by this unwavering forbearance and
gentleness, and one day, when my wife
had gone to the prayer meeting, I went
into my barn, fell down upon my knees,
and prayed sincerely if she was right

835
127
UN ITARIANISM.
and I was wrong, God would enlighten
me and lead me into the right path. I
felt willing to be led. I had no desire
to cherish prejudices, if I before enter-
tained them, against the truth. After
pouring out my soul before God, I
returned to the house, opened the Bible,

- -- 0
and read it as I never read it befcre
A flood of light poured in upon me;
my mind was open to conviction; I
found no difficulty in discovering the
truth, because I earnestly sought, and
from that day abandoned the destructive
sentiments of Universalism.
427. UNITARIANISM.
(a) DR. PRIESTLEY’S AVOW-
AL TO DR. MILLER.—-The Rev.
Dr. Miller, of Princeton, N. J., in a
note to his sermon preached at the ordi-
nation of Rev. Mr. Nevins, in Balti-
more, speaking of the dreadful and
soul-destroying errors of Arius and So-
cinius, remarks, that in conformity with
this view of the subject, the author can-
not forbear to notice and record a decla-
ration made to himself by the late Dr.
Priestley, two or three years beibre the
decease of that distinguished Unitarian.
The conversation was a free and ami-
cable one, on some of the fundamental
doctrines of religion. In reply to a di-
rect avowal on the part of the author
that he was a Trinitarian and a Calvin-
ist, Dr. Priestley said, “I do not won-
der that you Calvinists entertain and
express a strongly unfavorable opinion
of us Unitarians. The truth is, there
neither can, nor ought to be, any com-
promise between us. If you are right,
WE ARE NOT CHRISTIANS AT ALL; and
if we are right, YOU ARE GROSS IDOLA-
TERS.” These were, as nearly as can be
recollected, the words, and, most accu-
rately, the substance of his remark.
And nothing certainly can be more just.
Between those who believe in the Di-
vinity and Atonement of the Son of
God, and those who entirely reject both,
“there is a great gulf fixed,” which
precludes all ecclesiastical intercourse.
(Z2) AFFINITY OF UNITARI.A N-
ISM FOR INFIDELITY—DR. JEW_
ETT’S TESTIMONY.-—-Dr. Thomas
Jewett, of Rindge, N. II, who was for
some time an avowed infidel, was hope-
fully converted in 1833, and received
on the last Sabbath in August, of the
same year, into the church. At his
request, a communication from his pen

was read on that day from the pulpit.
From this We quote the following sig-
nificant passage.
“Led astray first by the plausible
but fallacious arguments of Elkanah
Winchester, I adopted his sentiments
fully; and from his doctrine of tempo-
rary future punishment the transition to
Universalism, or the disbelief of any
future punishment, was very natural
and easy. This latter scheme, so per-
fectly agreeable to the deer of evil, I
readily adopted, and warmly advocated
for several years.
“At thirty years of age I tried to be-
come an Atheist, but though I never
was left to deny or disbelieve the exist-
ence of God, yet I adopted the system
of Deism ; utterly rejecting the Bible,
as the work of man and an imposition
upon the world. My course of conduct
in relation to evangelical ministers and
Christians was such as might be ex-
pected from one who cherished such
sentiments. I have it in painful remem-
brance that I opposed them, and made
them and the cause the subject of ridi-
cule and contempt.
“But the names of Infidel and Uni-
versalist, I was aware, were not popu-
lar. For a few years past I have as-
sumed the name of Unitarian, for two
reasons; one was, that it exposed me to
less odium; the other, I found that I
could be reckoned in that class without
any material change in my religious
opinions. And here I honestly and so-
berly declare that these several names
were assumed at different times as a
mere disguise, as convenience or inter-
est might require. And I now regard
these several schemes as essentially the
same. I have been intimate with men
in all ranks of society belonging to
836
USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN.
—-
these religious persuasions, and I have
found none of them, so far as I could
discover, receiving the Bible as decisive
authority in religious faith. This, I
need not say, is denying its inspiration.”
(0) A DEIST’S OPINION OF
UNIVERSALISTS AND SOCINL
ANS.-—A writer in the Western Intel-
ligencer says : In conversation with one
of the most open and virulent Deists I
ever saw, after venting his spite against
lesus of Nazareth and his ministers, or
“the supposed Jesus,” as he would have
it, and condemning the Bible, he said,
"‘ Within fifty years, the religion of Je-
sus will be banished from the world;
and I am determined to do all I can to
destroy it.” I remarked to him he had
undertaken a work of too great magni-
tude for one man, or any body of men,
to accomplish; and that I believed a
Universalist or a Socinian, or in other
words Unitarian, would make many
Deists to his one. T 0 which he replied,
“ Sir, we consider Universalists and
Socinians in the same light in regard to
our doctrine, that your people do John
the Baptist with regard to yours—THEY
ARE MERELY FORERUNNERS ! 1”
(rl) THE DEIST’S OPINION.—-
A friend of ours, says a writer in the
Columbian Star, called some days since
at the house of an intelligent Deist, who
has long been known as a determined

427, 428
and envenomed opposer of the Christian
religion, and found him reading Dr.
Channing’s discourse preached at a
dedication in the city of New-York.
The conversation turned upon the mer-
its of the sermon, and the distinguished
ability of the author, when our friend
inquired of the gentleman how he liked
the production. “I like it much,” said
he, with particular animation. “ It
strikes a broad blow at the Christian
system, and will prove a decisive tri-
umph for the Religion of Nature. Dr.
Channing differs from me in a very few
points, an in five years I am satisfied
he will preach the doctrine which I be-
lieve.”
(e) THE SOCINIAN’S JUDGE.
—-A physician, who had imbibed Socini-
an principles, made it his chief concer ,
in matters of religion, to degrade the
character and dignity of Christ. Such
was his contempt for him, that he sel-
dom spoke of him in conversation under
any other name than the carpenter’s
son. At length he was seized with af-
fliction, which terminated in his death.
A while before his departure, the ser-
vant who attended him, on entering his
room, found him in great agitation. On
inquiring the cause, he answered, “I
am a dying man, and that which most
of all affects me is, that I must be
judged by THE CARPEl\'1‘ER’S SON I”
428. USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN.
(re) A COLPORTEUR IN NOR-
WAY.—-When there was great spirit-
ual darkness on the continent of Eu-
rope, and every thing seemed to threat-
en that the light of the gospel would be
completely removed. from Norway, God,
in his providence, raised up a poor pea-
sant, who lived near Indenckihill, on
the confines of Sweden. He had re-
ceived nothing but a common educa-
tion, but the Lord made him acquaint-
ed with the truth, and filled him with
zeal to communicate that truth to his
countrymen, who were perishing for
lack of knowledge. This good man,
with his knapsack on his back, set out
on the road, went through the length

and breadth of Norway, proclaiming
the gospel in that wild and romantic
country, to thousands and tens of thou-
sands ; and the Lord gave testimony to
the word spoken in a most remarkable
manner ; for hundreds were in a short
time, by his instrumcntality, made to
see and embrace the truth. It may be
easily conceived, that he was not allow-
ed to go on in peace : the unenlighten-
ed clergy would not endure him ; they
stirred up the magistrates against him,
and he was cast into prison; as soon,
however, as he got out, he was again at
his work; but, at length, having come
to Christiana, the capital, a most bigot-
ed place in regard to religion, he was
837
428
USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN.
apprehended, and cast into a dungeon,
and kept eleven years, from 1800 to
1811. But he was not idle there ; for,
like Bunyan, he was writing treatises,
and sending them forth into every part
of the country ; contriving, in the space
of a very short time, to have one hun-
dred and twenty-two tracts published at
Cassel. The effect of this peasant’s la-
bors is, that at this day there are not
fewer than ten thousand followers of the
Lord Jesus in that country.
(1)) “ I HAVE HANDS, AND I
CAN WORK.”——A man in VV., who
depended for support entirely on his
own exertions, subscribed five dollars
annually in support of the Bombay
schools. His friends inquired, “VVhy
he gave so much, and how he could
afford it '2” He replied, “I have for
some time been wishing to do something
for Christ’s cause, but I cannot preach,
neither can I pray in public, to any
one’s edification, nor can I talk to peo-
ple, but I have hands, and I can work.”
(0) THREE ACTIVE YEARS
PREFERRED TO SIX IDLE ONES.
-—Cardinal Gonsalvi was suffering un-
der a chronic disease, and consulted
three physicians, who declared on being
questioned by the sick man, that this
disease would be followed by death in
a shorter or longer time, according to
the mannerin which he lived ; but they
advised him unanimously to give up his
office because, in his situation, mental
agitation would be fatal to him. “ If,”
inquired the Cardinal, “ I give myself
up to repose, how long, gentlemen, will
you guarantee my life 2” “ Six years,”
answered the doctors. “And if I con-
tinue in office '2” “ Three years at
most.” “ Your servant, gentlemen, re-
plied the Cardinal, “ I should prefer liv-
ing two or three years in doing some
good, to living six in idleness.”
(d) A YOUNG LADY’S DAY’S
LABOR.-—A young lady commenced
a tour of active duty in a street in Bos-
ton, with a view to do something for the
cause of the Redeemer. She devoted
a whole day to visiting the poor, and
the following statistics show the result
of the day’s labor. Visited forty fami-
lies ; found fifteen children who did not
attend any Sabbath school, and who

engaged to go; seven families that
would be pleased to receive visits from
her minister; and twelve families hav-
ing no regular place for public worship,
who promised to attend. Reader! the
field of usefulness in the city and coun-
try is extensive ; the laborers are few ;
by active and judicious efforts you can
do much to enlighten and save dying
sinners; then “go thou and do like
wise.”
(e) THE RESOLUTE SOLICIT-
OR.—-A lady in Bristol, (Eng.) deeply
impressed with the importance of the
Bible Society, determined to make per-
sonal application in its behalf to an eld-
erly gentleman of her acquaintance,
who possessed great wealth, but never
contributed to objects of this nature.
She was told by her friends it would be
in vain, but this did not shake her reso-
lution. She called and presented the
case, exhibiting all the documents cal-
culated to promote her object. They
produced noimpression. She then rea-
soned with him, but without effect. At
length she asked him the question,
“Have you a Bible, sir '2” “Yes.”
“ What would induce you to part with
it '2” “ I would not part with it on any
consideration.” “ Sir,” said she,
“there are thousands in this land who
are destitute of that which you profess
to prize so highly. A trifling portion
of your property would supply a fellow
creature with the book which you would
not part with on any consideration.”
This appeal produced the desired effect.
The gentleman, however, concealed his
feelings, and simply asked, with an air
of indifference, “ What do you think I
ought to give '2” Supposing that he
was balancing between a small sum
and an absolute refusal, she replied,
“We receive any sum, sir, however
small.” He then went to his bureau,
took a bag of guineas, and began very
deliberately to count them upon the ta-
ble—-one, two, three, four, and so on.
After he had proceeded some time in
this way, the lady presuming he had
forgotten the subject on which she came,
and was engaged in his other business,
ventured to interrupt him with the re-
mark that her time was precious, and
that if he did not intend to give, she
838
USEFULNESS,
___*__I
begged to be informed, that she might
solicit elsewhere. “ Have patience for
0. few minutes,” he replied, and pro-
ceeded until he had counted 73 guineas.
“There, madam,” said he, “there is
one guinea for every year Ihave lived;
take that for the Bible Society.”
THE INEBRIATES WIFE.
—In a publication of the Massachusetts 5
Sabbath School Society, which abounds
with excellent sentiments, entitled “ A
Practical Directory for Young Christian
Females,” is the following narrative:
The amazing influence of one Chris-
tian, who shows in her life the spirit of
Christ, is illustrated in a striking man-
ner, in the life of a lady who died not
long since, in one of the principal cities
of the United States. I am not permit-
ted to give her name, nor all the par-
ticulars of her life. But what I relate
may be relied upon, not only as facts,
but as far below the whole truth. She
had been for a long time afflicted with
a drunken husband. At length the
sheriff came, and swept off all her pro-
perty, not excepting her household fur-
niture, to discharge his grog bills. At
this distressing crisis, she retired to an
upper room, laid her babe upon the
bare floor, kneeled down over it, and
offered up the following petition: “O
Lord, if thou wilt in any way remove
from me this affliction, I will serve thee
upon bread and water, all the days of
my life.” The Lord took her at her
word. Her besotted husband imme-
diately disappeared, and was never
heard of again till after her death. The
church would now have maintained
her, but she Would not consent to be-
come a charge ‘ others. Although in
feeble health, and afiiicted with the
sick headache, she opened a small
school, from which she obtained a bare
subsistence; though it was often no
more than what was contained in the
condition of her prayer--literally bread
and water. She was a lady of pleasing
address, and of a mild and gentle dis-
position. “In her lips was the law of
kindness.” Yet she possessed an energy
pf character and a spirit of perse-
verance, which the power of faith alone
can impart. When she undertook any
Shristian enterprise, she was discour-

CHRISTIAN. 4%
aged by no obstacles, and appalled by
no difficulties. She resided in the most
wicked and abandoned part of the city,
which afiforded a great field of labor.
Her benevolent heart was pained at
seeing the grogshops open upon the holy
Sabbath. She undertook the difficult
and almost hopeless task of closing
these sinks of moral pollution _upon the
Lord’s day, arid succeeded. This was
accomplished by the mild influence of
persuasion, flowing from the lips of
kindness, and OlO'thc(I with that power
which always accompanies the true
spirit of the gospel. But she was not
satisfied with seeing the front doors and
windows of these houses closed. She
would, therefore, upon the morning of
the Sabbath, pass round, and enter these
shops through the dwelhngs occupied
by the families of the keepers, where
she often found them engaged secretly
in this wickedness. She would then re-
monstrate with them, until she persuad-
ed them to abandon it, and attend public
worship. In this manner, she abolished,
almost entirely, the sale of liquors upon
the Sabbath, in the worst part of the city.
She also looked after the poor, that
the gospel might be preached to them.
She carried with her the number of
those pews an the church which were
unoccupied. And upon Sabbath morn-
ings, she made it her business to go out
into the streets and lanes of the city,
and persuade the poor to come in and
fill up these vacant seats. By her per-
severance and energy, she would re-
move every objection, until she had
brought menu to the house of God. She ‘
was incessant and untiring in every
effort for doing good. She would estab-
lish a Sabbath school, and superintend
it until she saw it flourishing, and then
deliver it into the hands of some suitable
person, and go and establish another.
She collected together a Bible class of
apprentices, which she taught herself.
Her taster one day visited it, and found
half of them in tears, under deep con-
viction. She was faithful to the church
and to impenitent sinners. It was her
habitual practice to reprove sin, and to
warn sinners wherever she found them.
At the time of her death, she had under
her care a number of pious young men
839
USEFULNESS, CHRISTIAN.

preparing for the ministry. These she
had looked afte1, and brought out of
obscurity. As soon as their piety had
been sufficiently proved, she would
bring them to the notice of her Christian
friends. She persuaded pious teachers
to give them gratuitous instruction,
and pious booksellers to supply them
with books. In the same way, she
procured their board, in the families
of wealthy Christians. And she formed
little societies of ladies, to supply them
with clothing. There was probably no
person in the city whose death would
have occasioned the shedding of more
tears, or called forth more sincere and
heartfelt grief. Her memory is still
deeply cherished in the heart of her
pastor. He has been heard to say, that
he should not have felt so severely the
loss of six of the most devoted men in
his church.
) THE PIOUS SCHOOL-BOY’S
EXERTIONS.—A little lad, in one of
the villages of Connecticut was con-
verted to God. He attended school at
this time; and he began to study how
he might benefit his playmates, and win
their hearts to Christ. He was not
satisfied with merely living like a
Christian before them, watching care-
fully over his words and actions, and
bearing with patience all their persecu-
tions and ridicule on account of his
piety; but he determined to use some
active means for their salvation. With
this in view, he gave notice that there
would be a prayer meeting in the school-
house during the intermission.
Drawn by curiosity, and to enjoy
the sport they wickedly expected, the
scl-olars assembled. But who was to
conduct the meeting? Our little friend,
strengthened by the Savior, gives out
his hymn, sings and prays, and then
simply, affectionately, and faithfully,
exhorts his companions. Some during
the exercises behave with propriety,
others jeer, laugh, and attempt to break
up the little service.
Unmoved by these persecutions, and
his apparent ill success, the little hero
continues the meeting on succeeding
days. '
The master attended, to see if every
thing was properly eond ucted, and was

_o__—-_-I--_-_.i
astonished undoubtedly, (for he was at
unconverted man,) at the confidence
and calmness of the lad. He severely
reprimanded those who were only pre
sent to disturb the devotions, and saved
the young Christian from further perse-
cution. Soon some of the lads became
anxious, patient, and were hopefully
converted. Their parents witnessing
the change, were induced to come with
them at their hour of devotion, and ere
long several of these were seeking for
mercy among the little flock of pious,
praying lambs. The ministers of the
place, hearing this wonderful intelli-
gence, were aroused, and eventually
came in and took charge of the services.
Other meetings were appointed, and the
result was, that about sixty obtained
the salvation of their souls. The whole
work, the importance and value of
which eternity alone can show, originat-
ed, and was in a large sense carried on
by this pious, faithful, and courageous
little lad! O! how much good young
Christians may accomplish !
(h) A YOUNG LADY’S EF.
FOR.TS.—-Rev. Joel H. Linsley, in a
letter to Mr. E. C. Delavan, says:
A female member of one of the
churches in the vicinity of Marietta,
Ohio, (supplied with preaching by one
of the professors in college,) took a
school in one of our most destitute coun-
ties. There was there only occasional
Methodist preaching, and the people had
barely heard of cold water societies.
This single-handed female got up a
meeting, presented a constitution, signed
it herself, and secured four or five more
signers. At a second meeting a few
more were added. At a third meeting
she got her brother (a farmer), member
of the same church with herself, to
write and send for an address, which
she was obliged to read at the meeting,
(as none present could readily read,)
and the issue was a large addition of
members—-if I mistake not about thirty,
and that society new numbers one hun
dreo and seventy, or one hundred and
eighty members. The reformation was
immediately followed by a great revival
of religion, where one had never been
known before. Three distilleries were
shut uo, and the whole face of things in
84¢
VANITY OF THE WORLD.
420
that community is changed almost be-
ond the power of language to describe.
heard this but a few weeks since, with
some other striking facts connected with
it, and could hardly credit it, butl went
out a week since to preach in that little
church, and conversed with the lady
myself (a very modest, intelligent, and


F
devoted female), and found every fact
had been correctly reported to me. O,
sir, what cannot the gospel do to gird
weakness with strength, and make even
the gentleness of a modest, retiring wo-
man resolute to act for God. How such
efforts shame timid, time-serving disci-
ples among our own sex.
429. VANITY OF THE WORLD.
(a) DYING VVORDS OF SEVE-
RUS.—-When Severus, Emperor of
Rome, founad his end approaching, he
cried out, “I have been every thing,
anl every thing is nothing ;” then or-
dering the urn to be brought to him in
which his ashes were to be inclosed, on
his body being burned, according to the
custom of the Romans, he said, “ Little
urn, thou shalt contain one for whom
the world was too little.”
(1)) PITT LYING IN SOLITUDE.
-—Pitt died at a solitary house on Wim-
bledon Common. Not far off, by the
roadside, stood a small country inn,
where the various parties interested in
the great statesman’s life were accus-
tomed to apply for information, and
leave their horses and carriages. On
the morning ofthe 23d ofJanuary, 1806,
an individual having called at the inn,
and not being able to obtain a satisfac-
tory reply to his inquiries, proceeded to
the house of Pitt. He knocked, but no
servant appeared——he opened the door
and entered-—he found no one in attend-
ance——he proceeded from room to room,
and at length entered the sick chamber,
where, on a bed, in silence and in per-
fect solitude, he found to his unspeak-
able surprise, the dead body of that
great statesman who had so lately
wielded the power of England, and in-
fluenced, if he did not control, the desti-
nies of the world. We doubt whether
any much more awful example of the
lot of mortality has ever been wit-
nessed.
(0) CONSTANTINE AND THE
MlSER.—-Constantine the Great, in or-
der to reclaim a miser, took a lance and
marked out a space of ground of the
size of the human body, and told him,

“ Add heap to heap, accumulate riches
upon riches, extend the bounds of your
possessions, conquer the whole world,
and in a few days such a spot as this
will be all you will have.”
(cl) INSTABILITY OF GREAT-
N ESS.—-Xerxes crowned his footmen
in the morning, and beheaded them in
the evening of the same day ; and An-
dromachus, the Greek emperor, crowned
his admiral in the morning, and then
took ofi” his head in the afternoon. Ref-
fensis had a cardinal’s hat sent to him,
but his head was cut off before it came
to hand ! Most say of their crowns, as
a certain king said of his, “ Oh crown,
more noble than happy I”
(e) DIOGENES’ REPLY TO
ALEXANDER.—Diogenes was not in
the wrong, who, when the great Alex-
ander, finding him in the charnel-house,
asked him what he was seeking for, an-
wered, “ I am seeking for your father’s
bones and those of my slave; but I can-
not find them, because there is no differ-
ence between them.”
NEWTON AND MARLBO.
ROUGH:-It is truly humbling to the
pride of man to see to what a state of
mental and physical ruin he is brought
by the lapse of time. Sir Isaac New-
ton, that wonderful scholar, of whom it
is said, that he “surpassed the whole
human race in genius,” and M10, if any
one can be properly styled great and il-
lustrious, is surely entitled to these epi-
thets, when in his declining years he
was requested to explain some passage
on his chief mathematical work, cou...
only, as it is reported, say, that lr2
knew it was true once. A circui..
stance in some degree similar is relateu
of that celebrated military commander
841
I29
VANITY OF THE WORI D.

-_-~-.‘.-, \-

the first Duke of Marlborough, who
flourished about the same period. When
the history of his own campaigns was
read to him, to beguile the tedious hours
in the evening of life, we are told, so
far were his intellectual faculties im-
paired, that he was unconscious of what
he had done, and asked in admiration,
from time to time, “ who commanded ?”
Here, then, not to cite more examples,
we have fresh proofs that “all the glory
of man,” even in what he is most espe-
cially apt to value himself, is but “ as
the flower of grass.”
LORD CHESTERFIELD’S
CON F ESSION.-—The Earl of Chester-
field was a nobleman for whom nature
had done much, and birth and educa-
tion more. He was in his day univer-
sally allowed to be the most elegant and
accomplished man in Europe; and he
was no less conspicuous in the political
than in the fashionable world. N 0 man
ever possessed greater advantages for
the attainment of and the enjoyment of
worldly pleasures; and no man ever
drank deeper of the sweet, but poison-
ous draught. Let us hear him at a
time when disease and age hung heavy
upon him, and rendered him incapable
of further enjoyment. “I have seen,”
says he, “the silly rounds of business
and of pleasure, and have done with
them all. I have enjoyed all the plea-
sures of the world, and consequently
know their futility, and do not regret
their loss. I appraise them at their
real value, which is, in truth, very lpw.
Whereas those that have not expe-
rienced, always overrate them. They
only see the gay outside, and are daz-
zled at the glare. But I have been
behind the scenes. I have seen all the
coarse pullies and dirty ropes which
exhibit and move the gaudy machines;
and I have seen and smelt the tallow
candles which illuminated the whole
decoration, to the astonishment of the
ignorant audience. VVhen I reflect on
what I have seen, what I have heard,
Nd what I have done, I can hardly
persuade myself that all that frivolous
hurry of bustle and pleasure of the
world had any reality ; butl look upon
all that is past as one of those romantic
dreams, which opium commonly occa-
sions ; and I do by no means desire to
repeat the nauseous dose, for the sake
of the fugitive dream. Shall I tell you
that I bear this melancholy situation
with that meritorious constancy and
resignation, which most people boast
of ? N o, for I really cannot help it. I
bear it, because I must bear it, whether
Iwill or no! Ithink of nothing but
killing time the best wayl can, now
that he has become my enemy. It is
my resolution to sleep in the carriage
during the remainder of my journey.”
(h) DUKE OF ATHOL.—The es-
tate of the present Duke of Athol, Mr.
Colton informs us, “ is immense, running
in one direction more than seventy
miles. On his estate there are thirty-
six miles of private road for a carriage,
and more than sixty miles of well made
walks which are being extended every
year. These roads and paths being
made for pleasure, are laid through the
most picturesque and romantic scenery;
along the river’s bank, up the glen, cut
in the steep sides of the mountains and
over their tops, and along the margin of
the precipitous cliffs—now into the for-
est gloom, now opening on a boundless
prospect, or some sweet vale, now burst-
ing on a waterfall, and next along the
side of a murmuring brook. The father
of the present duke began in his life-
time, one of the most magnificent pal-
aces in the kingdom. It is said that in
the estimate of the cost of the edifice,
the single item of raising the walls and
putting on the roof, together with the
materials, would have been one hundred
thousand pounds, about five hundred
thousand dollars.”
Do you envy the possessor of i all this
wealth ’.l
For more than thirty years hr has been
in a lunatic asylum of London

842
VERACITY.
430
430. VERACIT Y.
(a) MAGNANIMOUS INDIAN.-—
A pledge is considered very sacred
and binding among the North American
Indians. The following is an instance.
During the Winnebago war of 1827,
Dekkerre, a celebrated chief of that
nation, with four other Indians of his
tribe was taken prisoner at Prairie du
Chien. Colonel Snelling, who then
commanded that garrison, dispatched a
young Indian into the nation with orders
to inform the chiefs of Dekkerre’s band
that unless the Indians who were per-
petrators of the horrid murders of some
of our citizens were brought to the fort
and given up within ten days, Dekkerre
and the other four Indians who were
retained as hostages, would be shot at
the end of that time. The awful sen-
tence was proclaimed in the presence
of Dekkerre, who. though proclaiming
his own innocence of the outrages that
had been committed by others of his
nation, exclaimed, that he feared not
death, notwithstanding it would be
fraught with serious consequences to his
arge and dependent family of little
children; but if necessary, he was
willing to die for the honor of his nation.
The young Indian had been gone several
days, and no intelligence was yet re-
ceived frorn the murderers. The dread-
ful day being near at hand, and Dekker-
re being in a bad state of health, asked
permission of the Colonel to go to the
river and indulge in his long accustomed
habit of oathing; in order to improve
his health. Upon which Colonel S. told
him that, if he would promise, on the
honor of a chief, that he would not leave
the town, he might have his liberty and
enjoy all his privileges until the day of
the appointed execution. Accordingly
he first gave his hand to the Colonel,
thanked him for his friendly offer, then
raised both his hands aloft, and in the
most solemn adjuration, promised that
he would not leave the bounds pre-
scribed, and said, if he had a hundred
lives, he would sooner lose them all
than forfeit his word, or deduct from

his proud nation one particle of its
boasted honor. He was then set at lib-
erty. He was advised to fly to the
wilderness and make his escape. “But,
no,” said he, “do you think I prize life
above honor; or that I would betray a
confidence reposed in me for the sake
of saving my life ?” Nine days of the
ten elapsed and his nation was not heard
from, but Dekkerre remained firm,
his fidelity unshaken, his countenance
unmoved. It so happened that on that
day Gen. Atkinson arrived; the order
for the execution was countermanded,
and the Indians were permitted to repair
to their homes.
(b) KING JOHN AND HIS HOST-
AGE.-—John, king of France, left in
England two of his sons as hostages for
the payment of his ransom. One of
them, the Duke of Anjou, tired of his
confinement in the tower of London,
escaped to France. His father, more
generous, proposed instantly to take his
place ; and, when the principal oflicers
of his court remonstrated against his
taking that honorable but dangerous
measure, he told them, “\Vhy, I my-
self was permitted to come out of the
same prison in which my son was, in
consequence of the treaty of Bretagne,
which he has violated by his flight. I
hold myself not a free man at present.
I fly to my prison. I am engaged to do
it by my word; and if honor were
banished from all the world, it should
have an asylum in the breast of kings.”
The magnanimous monarch accord ngly
proceeded to England, and became the
second time a prisoner in the tower of
London, where he died in 1384.
(c) THE HONEST REBEL AND
THE KING.—In Calamy’s Memoirs,
there is an account of a man named
Story, who was condemned for being in
Monmouth’ s rebellion, but was reprieved
by the interest of a friend with Judge
Jeffries, and subsequently removed to
Newgate. He was soon afterwards
ordered to be brought before the Privy
Council, in the same plight in which ha
843
430
VERACITY.
-_—_
then was, which was truly miserable.
The keeper advised him, in case the
king was present, that the wisest way
for him would be to answer the ques-
tions put to him in a plain and direct
manner, without concealing any thing-
advice which he strictly followed.
When he was brought into the
Council Chamber, he made so sad and
sorrowful a figure, that all present were
surprised and frightened ; and he had so
strong a smell, by being so long con-
fined, that it was very offensive.
When the king first cast his eyes up-
on him, he cried out, “Is that a man,
or what else is it '2”
Chancelor Jeffries told his Majesty,
that that was the Story of whom he
had given his Majesty so distinct an
account.
“Oh, Story,” says the king, “I re-
member him. That is a rare fellow in-
deed!” Then, turning towards him,
he talked to him very freely and fa-
miliarly. “ Pray, Mr. Story,” said he,
“you were in Monmouth’s army in the
west, were you not '2”
He, according to the advice given
him, made answer presently, “Yes, an’t
please your Majesty.”
“And you,” said he, “was a com-
missary there, were you not '2”
And he again replied, “ Yes, an’t
please your Majesty.”
“ And you,” said he, “ made a speech
before great crowds of people, did you
not '2”
He again very readily answered,
“Yes, an’t please your Majesty.”
“Pray,” says the king to him, “if
you hav’nt forgot what you said, let us
have some taste of your fine florid
speech ; let us have a specimen of some
flowers of your rhetoric, and a few of
the main things on which you insisted.”
VVhereupon, Mr. Story told us that
he readily made answer, “ I told them,
an’t please your Majesty, that it was
you that fired the city of London.”
/ “ A rare rogue, upon my word,” said
the king. “And pray what else did
you tell them '2”
“ I told them,” said he, ‘an’t please your
Majesty, that you poisoned your brother. ’ ’
“ Impuder ce in the utmost height of
it,” said the king; “pray let us hear

something further, if your memory
serves you.”
“I further told them,” said Mr. Story,
“that your Majesty appeared to be fully
determined to make the nation both
Papists and slaves.”
By this time, the king seemed to have
heard enough of the prisoner’s speech;
and, therefore, crying out, “A rogue
with a witness ;” and cutting of short,
he said, “to all this, I doubt not but a
thousand other villanous things were
added. But what would you say, Sto-
ry, if, after all this, I should grant you
your life 2”
To which be, without any demur,
made answer, that he should pray hearti-
ly for his Majesty as long as he lived.
“ Why, then,” said the king, “I free-
ly pardon the past; and hope you will
not, for the future, represent your king
as inexorable.”
(cl) DYING PREFERRED TO
LYING.-—The minister of the semi-
nary at Clermont having been seized
at Autun by the populace, the mayor,
who wished to save him, advised him
not to take the oath, but to allow him to
tell the people that he had taken it. “I
would myself make known your false-
hood to the people,” replied the clergy-
man ; “it is not permitted me to ransom
my life by a lie. The God who pro-
hibits my taking this oath, will not al-
low me to make it believed that I have
taken it.” The mayor was silent, and
the minister was martyred.
(e) I-IEGIAGE AND THE PRIS-
ONERS.-Hegiage was a celebrated
Arabian warrior, but ferocious and
cruel. Among a number of prisoners
whom he had condemned to death, was
one who, having obtained a moment’s
audience, said, “You ought, sir, to par-
don me, because when Abdarrahman
was cursing you, I represented to him
that he was wrong; and ever since that
time I have lost his friendship.” Hegi.
age asked him if he had any witness of
his having done this; and the soldier
mentioned another prisoner who was
likewise about to suffer death. The
prisoner was called and interrogated,
and having confirmed the fact, Hegiage
granted the first his pardon. He then
asked the witness, if he had likewise
844
WAR
13].
v-"—-
taken his part against Abdarrahman.
But he, still respecting truth, answered,
that he had not, because he believed it
was not his duty to do so. I-Iegiage,
notwithstanding his ferocity, was struck
with the prisoner’s greatness of spirit.
“Well,” said he, after a moment’s
pause, “suppose I were to grant you
your life and liberty, should you be still
my enemy ?” “No,” said the prison-
er. “That’s enough,” said Hegiage;
“your bare word is suflicient; you
have given undoubted proof of your
love for truth. Go, preserve the life

-_-.
that is less dear to you than honor and
sincerity; your liberty is the just re-
ward of your virtue.”
Here we see, that truth serves us best
at the very crisis when we are apt to
be most afraid that it will injure us.
VVould it not have been supposed that
the truth and integrity of the witness
above mentioned would have redoubled
the fury of a man so imperious and san-
guinary’.Z Yet the fact is, that, instead
of irritating, it softened and disarmeo
the tyrant.
WAR.
431. Battles, Battle-Fields.
(a) BATTLE OF S O L DI N.--
We take the following account of
scenes after the battle of Soldin, from
the pen of a clergyman. “At one
o’clock the cannonading ceased; and I
went out on foot as far as Soldin, to
learn to whose advantage the battle
had turned. Towards evening, seven
hundred Russian fugitives came to Sol-
din, a most pitiful sight! some holding
up their hands, cursing and swearing;
others praying, and praising the King
of Prussia; without hats, without
clothes; some on foot, others, two on a
horse, with their heads and arms tied.
up; some dragging along by the stir-
rups, and others by the tails of the
horses. When the battle was decided
in favor of the Prussians, I ventured to
the place where the cannonading had
been. After walking some way, a
Cossack’s horse came running full
speed towards me. I mounted him;
and on my way for seven miles and a
half on this side the field of battle, I
found the dead and wounded lying on
the ground, sadly cut in pieces. The
further I advanced, the more these poor
creatures lay heaped one upon another.
That scene Ishall never forget. The
Cossacks, as soon as they saw me, cried
out, ‘Dear sir, water, water, WATER!’
Righteous God! what a sight! Men,
women and children, Russians and
Prussians, carriages and horses, oxen,

chests and baggage, all lying one upon
another to the height of a man! and
seven villages around me in flames, and
the inhabitants either massacred, or
thrown into the fire! Nor were the
embers of mutual rage yet extinguish-
ed in the hearts of the combatants; for
the poor wounded were still firing at
each other in the greatest exaspera-
tion! The field of battle was a plain
two miles and a half long, and so en
tirely covered with dead and wounded,
that there was not even room to set my
foot without treading on some of theml
Several brooks were so filled up with
Russians, that they lay heaped one
upon another as high as two men, and
appeared like hills to the even ground !
I could hardly recover myself from the
fright occasioned by the miserable out-
cr1es of the wounded. A noble Prus-
sian oflicer, who had lost both his legs,
cried out to me, ‘ Sir, you are a priest,
and preach mercy; pray, show me
some compassion, and despatch me at
once.’ ”
(b) NUMBERS SLAIN IN DIF.
FERENT BATTLES.-—-At Durham,
1346, there fell 15,000; at Halidonhill
and Agincourt, 20,000 each; at Bant-
zen and Lepanto, 25,000 each; at
Austerlitz, Jena and Lutzen, 30.000
each; at Eylau, 60,000 ; at Vllaterloo
and Quatre Bras. one engagement,
70,000; at Borodino, 80,000; at Fon-
tenoy, 100,000 ; at Yarmouth, 150,000 ;
at Chalons, no less than 300,000 of
845
532
WAR.
Attila’s army alone! The Moors in
Spain, about the year 800, lost in one
battle 70,000; in another, four centu-
ries later, 180,000, besides 50,000 pris-
oners, and in a third, even 200,000.
Still greater was the carnage in ancient
times. At Cannae, 70,000 fell. The
Romans alone, in an engagement with
the Cimbri and Teutones, lost 80,000.
The Carthaginians attacked Hymera in
Sicily with an army of 300,000 men,
and a fleet of 2000 ships, and 3000
transports; but not a ship nor a trans-
port escaped destruction, and of the
troops, only a few in a small boat
reached Carthage with the melancholy
tidings. Marius slew, in one battle,
140,000 Gauls, and in another, 290,000.
In the battle of Issus, between Alexan-
der and Darius, 110,000 were slain,
in that of Arbela, 300,000. Julius
and Cwsar once annihilated an army of
363,000 Helvetians; in a battle with
the Usipetes, he slew 400,000; and on
another occasion, he massacred more
than 430,000 Germans, who “had
crossed the Rhine, with their herds, and
flocks, and little ones, in quest of new
settlements. ’ ’
43%. Stages.
(a) SIEGE OF GENOA.-—-In 1800,
Genoa, occupied by 24,000 French
troops, was besieged at once by a Brit-
ish fleet and a powerful Austrian army.
We will not detail the horrors attendant
on the sallies and assaults; but let us
look at the condition of the soldiers and
citizens within. The former, worn
down by fatigue, and wasted by famine,
had consumed all the horses in the city,
and were at length reduced to the ne-
cessity of feeding on dogs, cats, and
vermin, which were eagerl_ hunted out ,
in the cellars and common sewers.
Soon, however, even these wretched
resources failed ; and they were brought
to the pittance of four or five ounces a
day of black bread made of cocoa, rye,
and other substances ransacked from
the shops of the city.
The inhabitants, also, were a prey to
the most unparalleled suflferings. The
price of provisions had from the first

been extravagai tly high, and at length
—_

--u-1--._~
no kind of grain could be had at any
cost. Even before the city was reduced
to the last extremities, a pound of rice
was sold for more than a dollar, and a
pound of flour for nearly two dollars.
Afterwards beans were sold for two
cents each, and a biscuit of three ounces
weight, when procurable at all, for up-
wards of two dollars. A little cheese,
and a few vegetables, were the only
nourishment given even to the sick and
wounded in the hospitals.
The horrors of this prolonged famine
in a city containing above 100,000 souls,
cannot be adequately described. All
day the cries of the miserable victims
were heard in the streets, while the
neighboring rocks within the walls were
covered with a famished crowd seeking
in the vilest animals, and the smalles‘
traces of vegetation, the means of as-
suaging the intolerable pangs of hunger.
Men and women, in the last agonies of
despair, filled the air with their groans
and shrieks ; and sometimes, while ut-
tering these dreadful cries, they strove
with furious hands to tear out their
ravening entrails, and fell dead in the
streets! At night the lamentations of
the people were still more dreadful;
too agitated to sleep, and unable to
endure the agonies around them, they
prayed aloud for death to relieve them
from their sufferings.
Dreadful was the effect of these
protracted calamities in hardening the
heart, and rendering men insensible to
any thing but their own disasters. Chil-
dren, left by the death of their parents
in utter destitution, implored in vain the
passing stranger with tears, with mourn-
ful gestures, and heart-broken accents,
to give them succor and relief. Infants,
deserted in the streets by their own pa-
rents, and women, who had sunk down
from exhaustion on the public thorough-
fares, were abandoned to their fate '
and, crawling to the sewers, and other
receptacles of filth, they sought therer
with dying hands, for the means of pro
longing their miserable existence for 8
few hours. In the desperation produced
by such long-continued torments, the
more ardent and impetuous rushed out
of the gates, and threw themselves into
the harbor, where they perished without
846
SIEGES.
§
assistance or commiseration. To such
straits were they reduced, that not only
leather and skins of every kind were
devoured, but the horror at human flesh
was so much abated, that numbers were
supported on the dead bodies of their
fellow-citizens ’
Still more cruel, horrible beyond all
description, was the spectacle presented
by the Austrian prisoners of war con-
fined on board certain old vessels in the
port; for such was the dire necessity at
last, that they were left for some days
without nutrimont of any kind ! They
ate their shoes, they devoured the leath-
er of their pouches, and, scowling dark-
ly at each other, their sinister glances
betrayed the horrid fear of their being
driven to prey upon one another. Their
French guards were at length removed,
under the apprehension that they might
be made a sacrifice to ravening hunger ;
and so great did their desperation finally
become, that they endeavored to scuttle
their floating prisons in order to sink
them, preferring to perish thus rather
than endure any longer the tortures of
famine.
Pestilence, as usual, cafme in the rear
of such calamities; and contagious fe-
vers swept off multitudes, whom the
strength of the survivors was unable to
inter. Death in every form awaited
the crowds whom common suffering had
blended together in the hospitals; and
the multitude of unburied corpses which
ancumbered the streets, threatened the
city with depopulation almost as cer-
tainly as the grim hand of famine under
which they were melting away. When
the evacuation took place, the extent of
the suffering which the besieged had
undergone appeared painfully conspicu-
ous. “ On entering the town,” says
Thiebault, “ all the figures we met
bore the appearance of profound grief,
or sombre despair ; the streets resound-
ed with the most heart-rending cries;
on all sides death was reaping its har-
vest of victims, and the rival furies of
famine and pestilence were multiplying
their devastations. In a word, both the
army and the inhabitants seemed fast
approaching their dissolution.”
(b) BOMBARDMENT OF ST.
JEAN D’ACRE.—-The bombardment

43%
of St. Jean d’Acre, in Syria, English
newspapers of the day called “ a most
brilliant exploit;” but let us see what
it was. “ At half past four in the morn-
ing,” says an eyewitness, “ all firing
ceased, as if by one consent, when—-
heavens! what a sight !—the whole
town seemed to be thrown into the air!
We saw nothing but one dense cloud
extending thousands of yards into the
air- on all sides; and then we felt an
awful shock, which gave the line-ofi
battle ships a keel of two degrees. It
was the explosion caused by one of our
shells bursting in their main magazine
of powder, by which, to speak within
bounds, two thousand souls, besides
beasts of burden of every description,
were blown to atoms! The entire loss
of the Egyptians is computed at three
thousand. At daylight, what a sight
was exposed to our view ! The stupen-
dous fortification, that only twelve hours
before was among the strongest in the
world, was so riddled that we could not
find a square foot which had not a shot.
I went ashore to witness the devasta-
tion ; the sight beggared all descrip-
tion! The bastions were strewed with
the dead, the guns dismounted, and all
sorts of havoc. The spot of the explo-
sion was far worse——a space of two
acres laid quite bare, and hollowed out
as if a quarry had been worked there
for years! Heavens! what a sight was
there before me! Mangled human bod-
ies, of both sexes, strewed in all three-
tions, women searching for their hus-
bands and other relatives, tearing their
hair, beating their breasts, and howling
and crying most piteously!” All this
was done by England herself in 1840 ! !
(c) SIEGE OF MAGDEBURG.-—
In the siege of Magdeburg, in 1836, the
resistance was long and obstinate; but
at length two gates were forced open
by the besiegers, and Tilly, marching
a part of his infantry into the town,
immediately occupied the principal
streets, and with pointed cannon drove
the citizens into their dwellings, there
to await their destiny. Nor were they
held long in suspense; a word from
Tilly decided the fate of Magdeburg.
Even a more humane general would
have attempted inévain to restrain such
47
432
WAR.
soldiers; but Tilly never once made
the attempt. The silence of their
general left the soldiers masters of the
citizens; and they broke without re-
straint into the houses to gratify every
brutal appetite. The prayers of inno-
cence excited some compassion in the
hearts of the Germans, but none in
the rude breasts of Pappenheim’s Wal-
loons. Scarcely had the massacre
commenced, when the other gates were
thrown open, and the cavalry, with the
fearful hordes of Croats, poured in upon
the devoted town.
N ow began a scene of massacre and
outrage, which history has no language,
poetry no pencil to portray. Neither
the innocence of childhood, nor the
helplessness of old age, neither youth
nor sex, neither rank nor beauty, could
disarm the fury of the conquerors.
Wives were dishonored in the very
arms of their husbands, daughters at
the feet of their parents, and the de-
fenceless sex exposed to the double loss
of virtue and life. No condition, how-
ever obscure, or however sacred, could
afford protection against the cruelty or
rapacity of the enemy. Fifty-three
women were found in a single church
with their heads cutoff! The Croats
amused themselves with throwing chil-
dren into the flames, and Pappenheim’s
Walloons with stabbing infants at their
mothers’ breasts! Some officers of the
League, horror-struck at scenes so
dreadful, ventured to remind Tilly, that
he had it in his power to stop the car-
nage. “Return in an hour,” was his
answer, “and I will see what is to be
done; the soldier must have some re-
compense for his dangers and toils!”
No orders came from the general to
check these horrors, which continued
without abatement till the smoke and
flames at last stopped the course of the
plunderers. To increase the confusion,
and break the resistance of the inhabit-
ants, the invaders had, in the com-
meneement of the assault, fired the
town in several places; and a tempest
now arose, and spread the flames with
frightful rapidity, till the blaze became
universal, and forced the victors to
pause awhile in their work of rapine
and carnage. The confusion was deep-

<- -M
ened by the clouds of smoke, the clash
of swords, the heaps of dead bodies
strewing the ground, the crash of falling
ruins, and the streams of blood which
ran along the streets. The atmosphere
glowed; and the intolerable heat finally
compelled even the murderers to take
refuge in their camp. In less than
twelve hours, this strong, populous, and
flourishing city, one of the finest in all
Germany, was a heap of ashes, with
the exception of only two churches, and
a few houses.
Scarcely had the flames abated, when
the soldiers returned to satiate anew
their rage for plunder, amid the ruins
and ashes of the town. Multitudes
were suffocated by the smoke; but
many found rich booty in the cellars
where the citizens had concealed their
valuable effects. At length Tilly him-
self appeared in the town, after the
streets had been cleared of ashes and
corpses. Horrible and revolting to
humanity was the scene that presented
itself! the few survivors crawling from
under the dead ; little children wander-
ing about, with heart-rending cries, in
quest of their parents now no more;
and infants still sucking the dead bodies
of their mothers ! More than five thou-
sand bodies were thrown into the Elbe
just to clear the streets; a far greater
number had been consumed by the
flames; the entire amount of the
slaughter was estimated at thirty thou-
sand; and in gratitude to the God of
peace for such horrid success in the
butchery of his children, for this tri-
umph of Christian over Christian in
blood, and fire, and rapine, and brutal
lust, a solemn mass was perfhrmed, and
Te Deum sung amid the discharge of
artillery!!
(d) SIEGE OF ZARAGOSSA.--
The French fought their way into the
entrance of the ill-fated city, by mining
and exploding one house after another,
while the inhabitants were confined to
that quarter of the city still in possession
of the Spaniards, who were crowded,
men, women and children, into the
cellars, to avoid the cannon balls and
bombs. Pestilence broke out as a
matter of course ; and when once begun,
it was impossible to check its progress.
848
MILITARY HOSPITALS.
433
or confine it to one quarter of the city.
it was not long before more than thirty
hospitals were established. As soon as
one was destroyed by the bombardment,
the patients were removed to some
other building, which was in a state to
afford them temporary shelter, and thus
the infection was carried into every
part of Zaragossa. The average of
daily deaths from this cause was, at
this time, not less than three hundred
and fifty. Men stretched upon straw,
in helpless misery, lay breathing their
last, and with their dying breath spread-
ing the mortal taint of their own disease,
without medicines, food, or attendance;
for the ministers of charity themselves
became the victims of the disease. The
slightest wound produced gangrene and
death in bodies so prepared for dissolu-
tion by distress of mind, agitation, and
want of proper aliment and of sleep;
for there was no respite, either by day
or night, for this devoted city. By day,
it was involved in a red sulphuric at-
mosphere of smoke and dust, which hid
the face of heaven; by night, the fire
of cannon and mortars, and the flames
of burning houses, kept it in a state of
horrible illumination. The cemeteries
could no longer afford room for the dead.
Large pits were dug to receive them in
the streets, and in the courts of the
public buildings, till hands were wanted
for the labor; they were laid before
the churches, heaped upon one another,
and covered with sheets; and not un-
freqaently these piles of mortality were
struck by a shell, and the shattered
bodies scattered in all directions. When
the French entered the city, six thousand
bodies were lying in the streets and
trenches, or piled up in heaps before
.he churches.
43$. ltlilitary Hospitals.
(a) HOSPITAL IN PORTUGAL.
—The following sketch from a British
officer in Portugal will help us further
to conceive the horrors of a hospital.
“I entered the town of Mirando Cervo
about dusk. It had been a black, grim,
gloomy sort of day. Huge masses of
clouds lay motionless on the sky; and
then they would break up suddenly as

with a whirlwind, and roll off in the red
and bloody distance. I felt myself in
a strange sort of excitement 5 my
imagination got the better of all my
other faculties; and, while walking out
in the principal street, I met a woman,
an old haggard-looking wretch, who had
in her hollow eyes an unaccountable
expression of cruelty, a glance like that
of madness; but her deportment was
quiet and rational, and, though clad in
squallidness, she was evidently of the
middle rank in society. Without being
questioned, she told me in broken Eng-
lish, I should find comfortable accom-
modations in an old convent at some
distance in a grove of cork-trees, point-
ing to them with her long, shriveled
hand and arm, and giving a sort of hy-
sterical laugh.
“I followed her advice, anticipating
no danger or adventure 5 yet the wild
eyes, and the still wilder voice of the
old crone so powerfully affected me,
that I walked, in a sort of muse, up a
pretty long flight of steps, and found
myself standing at the entrance to the
cloisters of the convent. A strange
sight now burst upon my view! Before
me lay and sat more than a hundred dead
bodies, all of them apparently in the
very attitude or posture in which they
had died. I gazed at them a minute
or more before I knew that they were
all corpses; and a desperate courage
then enabled me to look steadfastly at
the scene before me. The bodies were
mostly clothed in mats, and rags, and
tattered great coats 5 some of them were
merely wrapt round about with girdles
composed of straw; and two or three
were perfectly naked. Every face had
a different expression, but all painful,
horrid, agonized, bloodless. Many
glazed eyes were wide open; and per-
haps this was the most shocking thing
in the whole spectacle-—-so many eyes
that saw not, all seemingly fixed upon
different objects; some cast up to hea-
ven, some looking straight forward, and
others with the White orbs turned round,
and deep sunk in their sockets. It was
a sort of hospital; and these wretched
beings, nearly all desperately wounded,
had been stripped by their comrades,
and left there either dead, or to die.
54
849
434
VVAR.
V
“This ghastly sight I had begun to
view with some composure, when l saw,
at the remotest part of the hospital, a
gigantic figure sitting, all covered with
blood, and almost naked, upon a rude
bedstead, with his back leaning against
the wall, and his eyes fixed directly on
mine. I first thought him alive, and
shuddered; but he was stone dead!
In his last agonies he had bitten his
under lip almost entirely off, and his
long black beard was drenched in clotted
gore, that likewise lay in large blots
upon his shaggy bosom. One of his
hands had convulsively grasped the
wood-work of the bedstead, and crushed
it in the grasp. I recognized the corpse.
He was a sergeant in a grenadier regi-
ment, and had, during‘ the retreat, been
distinguished for acts of savage valor.
One day he killed with his own hand
Harry VVarburton, the right-hand man
of my own company, perhaps the most
powerful man in the British army.
There sat the giant frozen to death. I
went up to him, and raised his brawny
arm, it fell down again with a hollow
sound against the bloody side of the
corpse.
“My eyes unconsciously wandered
along the walls. They were covered
with grotesque figures and caricatures
of the English, absolutely drawn in
blood! Horrid blasphemies, and the
most shocking obscenities in the shape
of songs, were in like manner written
there. I observed two books lying on
the floor, and picked them up. One
was full of the most hideous obscenity ;
the other was the Bible! It is impos-
sible to tell the horror produced in me
by this circumstance. The books dropt
from my hand, and fell 011 the breast
of one of the bodies--it was a woman’s
breast! Yes, a woman had lived and
died in such a place as this! What
nad been in that now still, death-cold
heart, perhaps only a few hours before,
I knew not—possibly love strong as
death, love, guilty, abandoned, linked
by vice unto misery, but still love that
perished only with the last throb, and
yearned in its last convulsion towards
some one of these grnn dead bodies.
“ Near this corpse lay that of a per-
‘bct boy not more than seventeen years

w .__1I-
of age. Round his neck was suspencted.
by a chain of hair, a little copper figure
of the Virgin Mary, and in his hand
was a letter in F rcnch. I glanced at
it, and read enough to know it was
from a mother—]l/Iy dear Son, &c. It
was a terrible place to think of mother
-—of home—of any social, any human
ties. What! have these ghastly things
parents, brothers, sisters, lovers ? \/Vere
they once all happy in peaceful homes ?
Did these convulsed, bloody, mangled
bodies, ever lie in undisturbed beds‘.2
Did these clutcned hands once press in
infancy a mother’s breast’.Z Now, alas,
how loathsome, terrible, ghostlike! Will
such creatures, thought I, ever live
again ‘.1 Robbers, ravishers, incendiaries,
murderers, suicides—a dragoon there
had obviously blown out his own brains
—-here is a very pandemonium of guilt
and horror!”
434. Punisliment of S0ldi01's.
(ti) 'I‘HE GAUNTLET.--“ One
day,” says a military man, “I was on
parade when preparation was making
for a kind of punishment called the
gaantlet. All the soldiers of the regi-
ment were placed in two ranks facing
each other, and about five feet apart.
To each soldier was given a stick three
feet long, or more. I could not bear to
stay and witness the execution; butI
was afterwards informed that the cul-
prit, stripped naked to his waist, and
his hands tied before him, was marched
between the ranks, preceded by a sol-
dier walking backwards with a bayonet
at the sufferer’s breast, to keep him
from going too fast. In this way he
was struck once by every soldier, ofIi-
cers going down on the outside of the
ranks to see that each man did his du-
ty ! and, if any one was merely suspect-
ed of not laying on hard enough, he re-
ceived over his own head a blow from
the officer’s cane. Sometimes the crim-
inal has to retrace his steps; and, as a
regiment consists of six hundred or a
thousand men, and some German regi-
ments of two thousand, he must receive
from twelve hundred to two or even four
thousand blows! The punishment of-
ten proves fatal ; and to such a pitch of
despair were those soldiers carried by
850
PUNISHMENT
OF SOLDIERS. 4334

their sufferings, that many of them
committed suicide ; and one poor fellow
shot himself near my lodgings.”
(h\ PUNISHMENT OF A SOL-
DIER.--“ One wintry mom,” says an
eyewitness, “ when the bleak wind
whistled along the ranks of a regiment
paraded to see corporal punishment in-
flicted, every eye was turned in pity
towards the delinquent”—his offence
was drunkenness—“ until the command-
ing officer, with stentorian lungs, cried
out, ‘ Strip, sir.’ The morning was so
bitterly cold, that a mere exposure of a
man’s naked body was itself a severe
punishment. VVhen the offender was
tied, or rather hung, up by the hands,
his back, from intense cold and previous
flogging, exhibited a complete black-
and-blue appearance. On the first lash,
the blood spirted out several yards ; and,
after he had received fifty, his back,
from the neck to the waist, was one
continued stream of blood. When tak-
en down, he staggered, and fell to the
ground. The poor man never looked
up again; his prospects as a soldier
were utterly destroyed ; and so keenly
did his degradation prey upon his spirits,
that he at length shot himself in the
barrack-room.”
(0) THE DESERTER’S EXECU-
TION.--A surgeon, stationed during
the war of 1812-14 at Greenbush, N.
Y., says, “ One morning several prison-
ers, confined in the provost guard-house,
were brought out to hear their sentences.
Some were the marks of long confine-
ment, and upon all had the severity of
the prison-house stamped its impression.
They looked dejected at this public ex-
posure, and anxious to learn their fate.
I had never seen the face of any of
them before, and only knew that a sin-
gle one had been adjudged to death.
Soon as their names were called, and
their sentences announced, I discerned,
by his agony and gestures, the misera-
ble man on whom that sentence was to
fall—-a man in the bloom of youth, and
the fullness of health and vigor.
“ Prompted by feelings of sympathy,
I calle" next morning to see him in
his prison. There, chained by his leg
to the beam of the guard-house, he was
reading the Bible, trying to prepare

himself, he said, for the fatal hour. I
learned from him the circumstances of‘
his case. He was the father of a fami-
ly, having a wife and three young chil-
dren, thirty or forty miles distant from
the camp. His crime was desertion ;
and his only object, he declared, was to
visit his wife and children. Having
seen that all was well with them, it was
his intention to return. But, whatever
his intention, he was a deserter, and, as
such, taken and brought into the camp,
manacled. The time between the sen-
tence and its execution was brief; the
authority in whom alone was vested the
power of reprieve or pardon, distant.
Thus he had no hope, and requested
only the attendance of a minister of the
gospel, and permission to see his wife
and children. The first part of the re-
quest was granted ; but Whether he was
permitted or not to see his family, I do
not now remember.
“ Dreading the hour of his execution,
I resolved, if possible, to avoid being
present at the scene. But the com-
mander sent me an express order to at-
tend, that I might, in my official capa-
city of surgeon, see the sentence fully
executed. The poor fellow was taken
from the guard-house, to be escorted to
the fatal spot. Before him was his cof-
fin——a box of rough pine boards——-borne
on the shoulders of two men. The
prisoner stood, with his arms pinioned,
between two clergymen. A white cot-
ton gown, or winding sheet, reached to
his feet. It was trimmed with black,
and had attached to it, over his heart,
the black image of a heart-—the mark
at which the executioners were to aim.
On his head was a cap of white, also
trimmed with black. His countenance
was blanched to the hue of his winding
sheet, and his frame trembled with eg-
ony. Our procession formed, we
moved forward with slow and measured
steps to the tune of a death march,
(Roslin Castle,) played with muffled
drums, and mourning fifes. The scene
was solemn beyond the power of des-
cription ; a man in the vigor of life
walking to his grave—-to the tune of his
own death march—-—clothed in his burial
robes--surrounded, not by friends as-
sembled to perform the last sad oflices
851
\-_-W
of affection, and to weep over him in
the last sad hour, but by soldiers with
bristling bayonets and loaded muskets,
urged by stern command to do the vio-
lence of death to a fellow soldier. Amid
reflections like these, we arrived at the
place of execution, a large open field,
in whose centre a heap of earth, freshly
thrown up, marked the spot of the dc
serter’s grave. On this field the whole
force then at the cantonment was drawn
up in the form of a hollow square, with
the side beyond the grave vacant. The
executioners, eight in number, had been
drawn by lot. N o soldier would vol-
unteer for such a duty. Their muskets
had been charged by the officer of the
day, seven of them with ball, the
eighth with powder alone. Thus each
may believe that he has the blank car-
tridge, and therefore has no hand in the
death of his brother soldier-striking
indications of the nature of the service.
“ The coffin was placed parallel with
the grave ; and about two feet distant.
In the intervening space, the prisoner
was directed to stand. He desired per-
mission to say a word to his fellow-soL
diers ; and thus standing between his
coffin and his grave, he warned them
against desertion, continuing to speak
until the oflicer on duty, with his watch
in his hand, announced to him in a low
voice, ‘ Two o’clock, your last moment
is at hand——you must kneel on your cof-
7
fin. This done, the oflicer drew down
the white cap, so as to cover the eyes
and most of the face of the prisoner.
The kneeling was the signal for the ex-
ecutioners to advance. They had be-
fore, to avoid being distinguished by
the prisoner, stood intermingled with
the soldiers who formed the line. They
now came forward, marching abreast,
and took their stand a little to the left,
about two rods distant from their living
mark. The officer raised his sword.
At this signal, the executioners .ook
aim. He then gave a blow on a drum
which W as at hand ; the executioners all
fired at the same instant. The misera-
ble man, with a horrid scream, leaped
from the earth, and fell between his
coffin and his grave. The sergeant of
the guard, a moment after, shot him
through the 1tead, holding the muzzle

WAR.
so near that his cap took fire ; and
there the body lay upon the face, the
head emitting the mingled fumes of
burning cotton and burning hair. The
Whole line then marched by the body,
as it lay upon the earth, the head still
smoking, that every man might behold
for himself the fate of a deserter.
“ We then started on our return.
The whole band struck up, with un-
common animation, our national air,
(Yankee Doodle,) and to its lively mea-
sures we were hurried back to our pa-
rade ground! Having been dismissed,
the commander of the post sent an invi-
tation to all the oflicers to meet at his
quarters, whither we repaired, and
were treated to a glass of gin and wa-
ter ! !”
486. Punishment of Marines
(a) STEALING A HANDKER-
CHlEF.—-Mark the seventy visited
upon the slightest offences. “A mid-
shipman named Gale, a most rascally,
unprincipled fellow, found his pocket
handkerchief in possession of one of the
crew. He charged the man with steal-
ing it. It was in vain that the poor
wretch asserted that he found it under
his hammock. He was reported as a
thief; a court-marhal sat upon him, and
returned the shamefully disproportion-
ate sentence of three hundred lashes
through the fleet, and one year’s im-
prisonment! Nor was that sentence a
dead letter; the unhappy man endured
it to the letter. Fifty were laio on
alongside the Macedonian, in conformity
with the common practice of inflicting
the most strokes at the first ship, in order
that the gory back of the criminal may
strike the more terror into the crews of
the other ships. This poor tortured
man bore two hundred and twenty, and
was pronounced by the attending sur-
geon unfit to receive the rest. Galled,
bruised, and agonlzed as he was, he
besought them to suffer the infliction of
the remaining eighty, that he might not
be called to pass through the degrading
scene again; but this prayer was de-
nied! He was brought on board, and
when his wounds were healed, the cap-
tain, Shylock-like, determined to have
852
WAR AND THE
DOMESTIC TIES. 435, 436

the whole pound of flesh, ordered him
to receive the remainder!
(b) PUNISHMENT WITH THE
COLT.-—During the three years’ cruise
)f the Fairfield, says Mr. McNally,I
lo not believe a single day elapsed that
punishment by flogging did not take
place. At that time there was a cus-
tom in the service, directly contrary to
law, whereby any officer of the deck
could inflict punishment. This was not
with the cat, as the law directs, but with
what is termed a colt, a piece of eigh-
teen-thread ratline, or one-inch rope,
which generally has one or two hard
twine whippings upon each end. Twelve
lashes with this, over a thin frock or
shirt, gave greater pain, and bruised
the flesh more than the cat would have
done; and it was with this instrument
that the deck oflicers of the F airfield
punished the men, and there was no
limit to the number of lashes, but just
as many as it might please the oflicer to
order—sometimes one dozen, and at
other times three. Such punishment
frequently brought the blood through
the shirt, and often left the flesh black
for two or three weeks, and then yellow
for as many more, before it healed per-
fectly. -
Never let citizens in the Northern
States rail at slavery, or the punish-
ment inflicted on slaves, or say that it
is wrong, SOi long as their own sons,
their own flesh and blood, their own sea-
men, their own free citizens, and the
men to whom they look for protection
in case of war, are daily subject to the
same treatment as the southern slaves.
The late John Randolph openly declar-
ed in the legislative halls of Congress,
that he had witnessed, in a few months,
more flogging on board the man-of-war
that carried him to Russia, than had
taken place during ten years on his
plantation, where there were five hun-
dred slaves.
436. War and the Domestic ‘Pics.
(1) HORRORS OF WAR IN CHI-
NA.--The late English war in China
furnishes some revolting instances of
the domestic desolation consequent on
this trade of blood. “In almost every
house the children had been madly

murdered. The bodies of most of these
victims were found lying usuallyin the
chambers of the women, as if each fa-
therhad assembled his whole family
before the massacre ; in some instances
these poor little sufferers were the next
day still breathing and writhing In the
agony of a broken spine; the way in
which they were usually put to death.
In one house were found in a single
room the bodies of seven dead and dy-
ing persons. It was evidently the
abode of a man of some consideration ;
and the delicate forms and features of
the sufferers indicated the high elevation
of their rank. On the floor, essaying
in vain to put food into the mouths of
two young children that were writhing
in the agonies of death from dislocated
spines, sat a decrepit old man, weeping
bitterly at the piteous moans and con-
vulsive breathings of the poor infants.
On a bed near these children, lay a
beautiful young woman apparently
asleep; but she was cold, and had long
been dead. One arm clasped her neck,
over which a silk scarf was thrown to
conceal the gash in her throat which
had destroyed life. Near her was the
corpse of a woman somewhat older, her
features distorted as if she had died by
strangulation; not far from her lay a
dead child stabbed through the neck;
and in a narrow verandah adjoining,
were the corpses of two more women
suspended by their necks from the raft-
ers. They were both young, one quite
a girl; and her features, in spite of
their hideous distortion from the mode
of her death, still retained traces of
their original beauty.”
(Z2) A WIFE AFTER BATTLE.
——The battle-field makes terrible hav-
oc of domestic sympathies and hopes.
I once read of a devoted wife who left
her babes, and walked some forty miles
to see her husband in the army. She
arrived the night before a battle, and
contrived, by a dextrous appeal to the
sentinel’s heart, to gain admission to her
husband’s tent. The hours sped swiftly
away, and the dawn heard the signal
for battle. She hurried from his fond
embrace with many a tender kiss for
his babes, but lingered near the scene,
and watched from a neighboring hill
853
536
WAR.
_—

every movement of the two armies,
until the combat ceased, and all was quiet
once more. The shades of night now
hang in gloom over that battle-ground,
and forbid all search for the wounded,
the dying or the dead. Morn ap-
proaches; and with its earliest dawn
this faithful wife, with a throbbing
heart, wanders over that field of slaugh-
ter to see if the father of her babes has
fallen. Alas, it is too true ! There he
is, all covered with gore. She sinks
on his bosom in a swoon, and rises
no more !
to) THE MOTHER AND HER
BABE.——Glance at one scene in the
campaign of 1794-5. “ We could not,”
says an eyewitness, “proceed a hun-
dred yards without perceiving the dead
bodies of men, women and children.
One scene made an impression which
time can never effaee. Near a cart we
saw a stout looking man, and a beauti-
ful young woman with an infant about
seven months old at the breast, all three
frozen and dead ! The mother must
have expired in the act of suckling her
child, as she lay on the drifted snow
with one breast exposed, and the milk
apparently drawn in a stream from the
nipple by the babe, and instantly con-
gealed. The infant seemed as if its
lips had but just been disengaged, and
its little head reposed on its mother’s
bosom with an overflow of milk frozen
as it trickled from the mouth.”
(cl) COL. HAYNE AND HIS
SON .——Col. Hayne, of South Carolina,
a man of high character, endeared to
all that knew his worth, and bound fast
to life -by six small children, and a
wife tenderly beloved, was taken priso-
ner by the British, and sentenced to be
hung ! His wife, falling a victim to
disease and grief combined, did not live
to plead for her husband; but great
and generous efforts were made for his
rescue. A large number, both Ameri-
cans and Englishmen, interceded in his
behalf; the ladies of Charleston signed
a petition for his release; and his six
notherless children were presented on
their knees as humble suitors for the
life of their father. It was all in vain ;
for war has no heart but of iron. His
eldest son, a lad about thirteen years

old, was permitted, as a special favor
to stay with him awhile in prison. On
seeing his father loaded with irons, and
condemned to die on the gallows, the
poor boy was overwhelmed with con-
sternation and grief. The wretched
father tried to console him by various
considerations, and added, “ to-rnorrow,
my son, I set out for immortality ; you
will follow me to the place of my exe-
cution, and, when I am dead, take my
body, and bury it by the side of your
dear mother.” Overcome by this ap-
peal, the boy threw his arms around his
father’s neck, crying, “O my father, I’ll
die with you ! I will die with you,
father!” The wretched father, still
loaded down with irons, was unable to
return his son’s embrace, and merely
said in reply, “ No, my son, never!
Live to honor God by a good life ; live
to serve your country, and to take care
of your brother and little sisters.”
The next morning, Col. Hayne was
led forth to execution. That fond and
faithful boy accompanied him; and
when they came in sight of the gallows,
the father turned to him, and said,
“ Now, my son, show yourself a man.
That tree is the boundary of my life,
and all its sorrows. Beyond that, the
wicked cease from troubling, and the
weary are forever at rest. Don’t, my
son, lay our separation too much at
heart; it will be short at longest. It
was but the other day your dear mother
died; to-dayl die; and you, my son,
though young, must follow us shortly.”
“Yes, my father,” replied the broken-
hearted boy, “I shall follow you short-
ly ; for I feel indeed that‘ I can’t, can’t
live long.” And so it was; for, on see-
ing his much-loved father first in the
hands of the executioner, and then
struggling in the halter from the gal-
lows, he stood transfixed with horror.
Till then he had all along wept profuse-
ly as some relief to his agonized feel-
ings; but that sight !-—it dried up the
fountain of his tears ;—he never wept
again. His reason reeled on the spot ;
he became an incurable maniac; and
in his last moments, he called out, and
kept calling out for his father in tones
that drew tears from the hardest hearts.
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HOUDIN’S STATUE OF WASHINGTON.

TESTIM ON IES AGAINST WAR.
436, 437

(e) SCENE NEAR MARSEIL-
LES.--“ We were some ten miles from
Marseilles,” says an officer, “ when we
saw a small vessel anchored in a nar-
row bay; and, fierce for prize-money,
we manned a boat, and pushed forward
till we came within pistol-shot of the
craft, without seeing any one except an
old woman seated in the door of a cot-
tage at some distance. Just then a
musket-shot from behind a rock laid
our bowman a corpse, another disabled
our marine, a third tore his cravat from
the lieutenant’s neck, and a fourth crip-
pled the coxswain’s arm. Still we saw
no one ; and, exasperated by these dis-
charges, we gave three cheers, and,
pulling for the place whence they seem-
ed to come, saw at length a man and a
boy running from us. We interchang-
ed several shots in vain, until the lien-
tenant, resting his musket on a rock,
shot the child while in the act of hand-
ing a cartridge to the man. The fa-
ther instantly threw down his musket,
and fell by the side of his son. We
seized his musket ; but he paid no at-
tention to us. I/Vhen we bade him fol-
low us, he heeded us not ; but, with
the child’s head in his lap, he kept wip-
ing away the blood that oozed from the
wound in his forehead, and neither wept
nor spoke, but watched the last chilling
shiver of his boy with an eye of inex-
pressible sadness. Then he jumped
from the ground with a frantic air ; the
marine brought his bayonet to the
charge, and the miserable father tried
to run upon its point; but the marine,
dropping his musket, encircled him in
his arms. We desired him to lead us
to the cottage. The marine carried the
corpse, and the father walked by its
side in silence, till we suddenly came
upon the rear of the cottage. The old
woman was still at her wheel, and, on
discovering her son a prisoner, gave a
shriek which announced to a lovely fe-
male in the hut that something painful
had occurred. She rushed to assist her
mother——her eye fell first upon her
lead son in the arms of an enemy;
and, seizing the boy, she tore him from
.he marine, kissed him more like a
maniac than a mother, and, giving one
deep, piercing sigh fell at her mother’s

—-
feet. We could stand it n) longer, and
hastened away; but that scene loan
never blot from my memory.”
) GENE RAL W ASHING-
TON ’S CON F ESSlON.——Perhaps few
facts would more forcibly illustrate the
views, which even reflecting military
men take of the nature of war, than the
following :-
Thomas Mullet, Esq., an English
gentleman, being in America, called on
General Washington, at his residence
at Mount Vernon, soon after the close
of the contest between that country and
Great Britain. VVashington asked him,
in the course of conversation in his
library, if he had met with an individu-
al in that country, who could write the
history of the recent contest. Mr. M.
replied that he knew of one, and only
one, competent to the task. The gene-
ral eagerly asked, “ VVho, sir, can he
be '2” Mr. M. replied, “ Sir, Cesar
wrote his own Commentaries.” The
general bowed, and replied, “ Cesar
could write his Commentaries ; but, sir,
I know the atrocities committed on both
sides have been so great and many,
that they cannot be faithfully recorded,
and had better be buried in oblivion!”
437. Testimonies against War.
(a) CICERO AND SENECA ON
VVAR.--'We could not expect the hea-
then to denounce a custom so cmphati-
cally their own ; yet we find the wisest
and best of them reprobating it in the
strongest terms. CICERO speaks of war,
“contention by violence, as belonging
to the brutes,” and complains bitterly
of its effects on liberal arts and peaceful
pursuits. “ All our noble studies, all
our reputation at the bar, all our profes-
sional assiduities, are stricken from our
hands as soon as the alarm of war is
sounded. Wisdom itself, the mistress of
affairs, is driven from the field. Force
bears sway. The statesman is despised ;
the grim soldier alone is caressed. Legal
proceedings cease. Claims are asserted
and prosecuted, not according to law,
but by force of arms.”
SENECA, the great moralist of antiqui-
ty, is still more strong in his condemna-
tion of war. “How are we to treat our
855
167
WAR.
_
fellow-creatures? Shall we not spare
the effusion of blood? How small a
matter not to hurt him to whom we are
bound by every obligation to do all the
good in our power !——Some deeds, which
are considered as villanous while capa-
ble of being prevented, become honora-
ble and glorious when they rise above
the control of law. The very things
which, if men had done them in their
private capacity, they would expiate
with their lives, we extol when perpe-
trated in regimentals at the bidding of a
general. We punish murders and mas-
sacres committed among private per-
sons; but what do we with wars, the
glorious crime of murdering whole na-
tions’.Z Here avarice and cruelty know
no bounds; enormities forbidden in pri-
vate persons, are actually enjoined by
legislatures, and every species of bar-
barity authorized by decrees of the sen-
ate, and votes of the people.”
(Z1) DECISION OF A PRIMITIVE
CHRISTIAN. —— Maximilian having
been brought before the tribunal to be
enrolled as a soldier, Dion, the precon-
sul, asked him his name. Maximilian,
turning to him, replied, “Why wouldst
thou know my name? I am a Chris-
tian, and cannot fight.’ ’ Then Dion or-
dered him to be enrolled, and bade the
oflicer mark him; but Maximihan re-
fused to be marked, still asserting that
he was a Christian; upon which Dion
instantly replied, “Bear arms, or thou
shalt die.” To this Maximilian an-
swered, “I cannot fight, if I die; I am
not a soldier of this world, but a soldier
of God ” He refused the expostulations
of Dion, and was accordingly executed.
(c) EARLY CHRISTIANS AND
WAR.--The absolute lneonsiste icy of
war with the gospel was the prevalent
belief of the early Christians. Justin
Martyr, A. D. 140, quoting the prophe-
cy of Isaiah already cited, says, “That
these things have come to pass, you
may be readily convinced ; for we who
were once slayers of one another, do not
now fight against our enemies.” Ire-
naus, bishop of Lyons, 167, discusses
the same prophecy, and proves its rela-
tion to our Savior by the fact, that the
followers of Jesus had disused the weap-

ons of war, and no longer knew how 0 ,
fight. Tertullian, 200, indeed allude:
to Christians who were engaged in milii
tary pursuits, but, on another occasion,
informs us, that many soldiers quilted
those pursuits in consequence of their
conversion to Christianity ; and repeat-
edly expresses his own opinion, that any
participation in war is unlawful for be-
lievers in Jesus, not only because of the
idolatrous practices in the Roman ar-
mies, but because Christ has forbidden
the use of the sword, and the revenge
of injuries. Origen, 230, in his work
against Celsus, says, “\Ve no longer
take up the sword against any nation,
nor do we learn any more to make war.
We have become, for the sake of Jesus,
the children 0]” peace. By our prayers,
we fight for our king abundantly, bu
take no part in his wars, even thougl
he urge us.”
(01) OPINION OF ERASMUS.-—
Erasmus, the glory of his age, wrote
against war with unrivaled beauty and
force. “What infernal being, all-pow-
erful in mischief, fills the bosom of man
with such insatiable rage for war I If
familiarity with the sight had not de-
stroyed all surprise at it, and custon
blunted the sense of its evils, who could
believe that those wretched beings are
possessed of rational souls, who contend
with all the rage of furies ? Robbery,
blood, butchery, desolation, confound
without distinction every thing sacreo
and profane.”
(6) WALTER RALEIGH ON
WAR.—-—Sir Walter Raleigh, a scholar,
a statesman, and a soldier, declares
“ there is no profession more unpropitious
than that of warriors. Besides the envy
and jealousy of men, the spoils, rapes,
famine, slaughter of the innocent, devas-
tations and burnings, with a world of mis-
eries laid on the laboring man, they are
so hateful to God, as with good reason
did Monlue, the marshal of France, con-
fess, ‘that, were not tae mercies of God
infinite, it were in vain for those of his
profession to hope for any portion of
them, seeing the eruelties by them per-
mitted and perpetrated are also infi-
nite.’ ”
(f) LORD CLARENDON’S OPI.
NION.—-Lord Clarendon, illustrious in
the annals of England, is very explicit
856
TESTIMONIES AGAINST WAR.
__
in his denunciations of this custom.
“ Of all the punishments and judgments
which the provoked anger of divine
Providence can pour out upon a nation
full of transgressions, there is none so
terrible and destroying as war. A
whole city on fire is a spectacle replete
with horror; but a whole kingdom on
fire must be a prospect much more ter-
rible. And such is every kingdom in
war, where nothing flourishes but rap-
ine, blood, and murder. We cannot
make a more lively representation and
emblem to ourselves of hell, than by the
view of a kingdom in war.”
(g) NEVER A GOOD WAR OR
A BAD PEACE.--Franklin was a
stanch opposer of the war-system. “If
statesmen,” says he, “Were more ac-
customed to calculation, Wars Would be
much less frequent. Canada might
have been purchased from France for a
tenth part of the money England spent
in the conquest of it; and if, instead of
fighting us for the power to tax us, she
had kept us in good humor by allowing
us to dispose of our own money, and
giving us now and then a little of her
own by way of donation to colleges or
hospitals, for cutting canals, or fortify-
ing ports, she might easily have drawn
from us much more by occasional vol-
untary grants and contributions, than
ever she could by taxes. Sensible peo-
ple will give a bucket or two of water
to a dry pump, in order to get from it
afterwards all they want.”
“ After much occasion to consider the
folly and mischiefs of a state of warfare,
and the little or no advantage obtained
even by those nations which have con-
ducted it with the most success, I have
been apt to think there has never been,
nor ever will be, any such thing as a
good war, or a bad peace. All wars are
follies, very expensive and very mis-
chievous ones. When will mankind
be convinced of this, and agree to settle
their difliculties by arbitration? VVere
they to do it even by the cast of a die,
it would be better than by fighting and
destroying each other. \Ve daily make
great improvements in natural philoso-
phy; there is one I wish to see in mor-
al—the dis *.overy of a plan that would‘
induce and oblige nations to settle their

437
disputes without first cutting one an-
other’s throats.”
(h) WAR MULTIPLIES LOSSES-
--Thomas Jefferson both wrote ow‘
acted with great decision in favor 01
peace. “I stand in awe,” he says in
1798, “' at the mighty conflict to which
two great nations (France and England)
are advancing, and recoil with horror at
the ferociousness of man. Will nations
never devise a more rational umpire of
differences than force? Are there no
means of coercing injustice more grati-
fying to our nature than a waste of the
blood of thousands, and of the labor of
millions of our fellow-creatures’.Z Won-
derful has been the progress of human
improvement in other respects. Let us
then hope, that the law of nature will
in time influence the proceedings of na-
tions as well as of individuals, and that
we shall at length be sensible, that war
is an instrument entirely ineflicient to-
wards redressing wrong, and multiplies
instead <y" indemnzfying losses. Had the
money which has been spent in the
present war been employed in making
roads, and constructing canals of navi-
gation and irrigation through the coun-
try, not a hovel in the Highlands of
Scotland, or the mountains of Auvergne,
would have been without a boat at its
door, a rill of water in every field, and
a road to its market-town. \Vere we to
go to war for redress of the wrongs we
have suffered, we should only plunge
deeper into loss, and disqualify ourselves
for half a century more for attaining the
same end. These truths are palpable,
and must in the progress of time have
their influence on the minds and con-
duct of nations.”
(i) WAR MAKES VlLLAINS.—-
Macchiavel himself denounces war as
“ a profession by which men cannot live
honorably ; an employment by which
the soldier, if he would reap any profit,
is obliged to be false, and rapacious, and
cruel. Nor can any man, who makes
war his profession, be otherwise than
vicious. Have you not a proverb. that
war makes villains, and peace brings
them to the gallows ?”
(1') LOUIS BONAPARTE ON
WAR.-—-“I have been as enthusiastic
and joyful as any one after victory;
857
137, 438
WAR.
~
r
yet I confess that even then the sight of
a field of battle not only struck me with
horror, but even turned me sick. And
now ..1.t I am advanced in life, I can-
not understand any more than I could
at fifteen years of age, how beings who
call themselves reasonable, 'and who
have so much foresight, can employ this
short existence, not in loving and aiding
each other, asri passing through it as
quietly as possible, uut in striving, on
the contrary, to destroy each other, as
though time itself did not do this with
sufficient rapidity. What I thought at
fifteen years of age, I still think, that
war, and the pain of death which society
draws upon itself, are but organized
barbarisms, an inheritance of the savage
state.”
(It) PRINCE EUGENE ON WAR.
—“ The thirst of renown sometimes in-
sinuates itself into our councils, under
the garb of national honor. It dwells
on imaginary insults; it suggests harsh
and abusive language; the people go
on from one thing to another, till they
put an end to the lives of halfa million
of men. A military man becomes so
sick of bloody scenes in war, that in
peace be is averse to re-commence
them. I wish that the first minister
who is called to decide on peace and
war, had only seen actual service.
What pains would he not take to seek,
in mediation and compromise, the means
of avoiding the effusion of so much
blood !”
(Z) LORD BROUGI-IAM ON WAR.
--“ My principles I know not whether
.hey agree with yours: they may be
derided, they may be unfashionable;
out I hope they are spreading far and
wide-—my principles are contained in
the words which that great man, Lord
Faulkland, used to express in secret,
and which I now express in public—
Peace, PEACE, PEACE. I abominate
war as unchristian. I hold it the great-
est of human crimes. I deem it to in-
clude all others—-violence, blood, rap-
ine, fraud, every thing which can de-
form the character, alter the nature,
snd debase the name of man.”
fm) COST OF WAR.—What a
boundless spendthrift is war! It is
estimated that every gun of our navy


costs an average of fifteen thousand
dollars a year; enough to suppcrt
twenty or thirty missionaries! Forty
millions of dollars wasted in our war
with a handful of Indians in Florida!
fifty millions a year in our last war
with England! hundreds of millions in
our old revolutionary war! Still worse
do we find it in the old world. Eng-
land, as stated by one of her ablest and
best men, has lavished upon Lord Wel-
lington alone, eleven millions of dollars!
As much upon a single warrior as all
Christendom has ever given in five
years for the support of missionaries
among the heathen! ! The war opera-
tions of England, near the time of the
battle at Waterloo, are said to have
consumed one million sterling a day ;
about twice as much every day as the
whole church of Christ is even now
contributing annaaliy for the spread
of his gospel! It has been estimated,
that the late wars of Europe, in little
more than twenty years, wasted in one
way and another some $4.-0,000,000,000,
the bare interest of which would be, at
six per cent, &B2,400,000,000 a year,
and, at only two and a half per cent,
no less than $1,000,0()0,000 ! the simple
interest at this low rate, enough to sup-
port, at $500 each, two millions of mis-
sionaries, or one to every three hundred
souls in all the pagan World I!
438. lllisccllancoua
(a) SUFFERINGS OF THE
FRENCH.-—“ The French soldiers,”
says an eye-witness, “on their retreat
from Moscow, would, on halting at night,
throng into the houses, throw themselves
down on the first dirty straw they could
find, and there perish, in large numbers,
with hunger and fatigue. From such
sufferings, and from the infection of the
air in the warmer season by putrefied
carcasses of men and horse s that strewed
the road, there sprang W0 dreadful
diseases, the dysentery and typhus
fever, before which they nelted away
like dew before the sun. At times
they were so overwhelmed with whirl-
winds of snow, that they could not dis-
tinguish the road from the ditches, and
often found their grave in the latter.
858
MISCELLANEOUS.
_p-1
43$
The roads, league after league, were
checkered with dead bodies covered
with snow, and forming undulations or
hillocks like those in a graveyard.
Many of the survivors scarce retained
the human form. Some had lost their
hearing, others their speech ; and many,
by excessive cold and hunger, were
reduced to a state of such stupid
frenzy, that they roasted the dead
bodies of their companions, and even
gnawed their own hands and arms.
“ No grenade or grape,” says an eye-
witness, “ could have so disfigured those
victims of the cold. One of them had
lost the upper joints of all his ten fin-
gers; and he showed us the stumps.
A. other wanted both ears and nose.
More horrible still was the look of the
third, whose eyes had been frozen ; the
eyelids hung down rotting, the globes
of the eyes were burst, and protruded
from their sockets. it was awfully
hideous; but a spectacle yet more
dreadful was to present itself. Out of
the straw in a car that brought them, I
now beheld a figure creep painfully,
which one could scarcely believe to be
a human being, so wild and distorted
were the features. The lips were rotted
away, the teeth stood exposed ; he pulled
the cloth from before his mouth, and
rinned on us like a death’s-head !”
(Z2) EXPENSE OF MILITIA
DRILLS.-—In a small town of New
England, there were formed even in
1842, no less than three military com-
panies with some aid from an adjoining
town, and one company of juvenile
volunteers. Of the latter, a shrewd,
economical man said, “I wish this
training fever were over; for it has
cost me eight or ten dollars to fit up my
boys, and lost me a great deal of their
time during the best season of the year.”
If there were only forty boys in the
company, and their equipments cost
four dollars each, and their time was
worth only twenty-five cents a day, the
sum total for these items alone, would
have been $340. If we suppose the
whole number from that town in the
adlllt companies to have been only one
hundred, the time spent through the
season, a single week at merely half a
dollar a day, their incidental expenses

—v-Q
at barely twenty-five cents more, and
their equipments of every kind eight
dollars each, the aggregate, thou._-,
most of these estimates are too low b"
half, would amount to no less than
$1250, in all, for boys and men, $1590;
and, should we reckon the loss of time
and money to the spectators, and the
general suspension or derangement of
business, the sum total would probably
reach $3000 or more. Put it, however,
at only $2000 for a population of one
thousand; and, even at this rate, you
would make our militia drills now
( 1845) a tax upon the country of some
$40,000,000 a year!
(c) LADD’S DIALOGUE WITII
CHILDREN.-—“ A distinguished in-
structor of youth,” says the late I/VIL
liam Ladd, “told me his sons were so
taken up with military notions, that he
could not reason with them; and he
asked me to talk to them. Itook the
oldest boy, aged about seven years,
between my knees, and something like
the following conversation ensued :-
‘ Do you love to see the soldiers?’ ‘ Yes,
I love to see the rub-a-dubs.’ ‘ Would
you like to be one yourself?’ ‘O, yes !’
‘VVell, but do you know what these
soldiers are for?’ ‘ No.’ ‘ Vhy, they
are learning to kill people. Those
bright guns are made to kill people with,
and those bright bayonets to stab them
with.’ The boy turned pale; such a
thought never before entered his head.
‘D0 you know who killed the little
babes in Bethlehem, because a wicked
man told them to ?’ ‘No.’ ‘They
were soldiers. Do you know who cru-
cified our Lord, and drove the spikes
through his hands and feet '2’ The boy
was silent. ‘ They were soldiers, and
soldiers would burn your house, and
cut down your fruit-trees, and kill your
pa, if they were told to.’ Both the
boys were astonished; tears stood in
their eyes. ‘ Do you want to be a Sal-
dier?’ ‘No.’ ‘Do you want to see
the rub-a-dubs ?’ ‘No.’” How easy
for a mother or teacher to impress such
artless, susceptible minds with the
horrors of war, and cast their views and
feelings in the mould of peace I
(d) TEN THOUSAND LIVES
FOR A BUCKET.——Abc ut seven hun-
859
438
WAR.
dred years ago, there was a country in
Europe called Modena, and another
I . untry lying beside it called Bologna.
Some soldiers belonging to the state of
Modena took a bucket from a well in
the state of Bologna, and carried it
away. The old bucket was of no value,
and might have been replaced by a few
cents; and it is said the soldiers carried
it away in mere fun and frolic. But
the people of Bologna took it as a great
insult. They declared war against
Modena, and had a long and bloody
conflict about it. More than ten thou-
sand human beings were butchered
because of the old bucket.’
(e) THE THIEF’S REPARTEE.
-—A soldier of Marshal Saxe’s army,
being discovered in theft, was con-
demned to be hung. What he had
stolen might be worth five shillings.
The Marshal meeting him, as he was
led to execution, said to him: “What
a miserable fool you were to risk your
life for five shillings.” “General,”
replied the soldier, “I have risked it
every day for five pence.” This re-
partee saved his life.
SOLDIERS’ BONES FOR
MANURE.—In the year 1830, it is es-
timated that more than a million bushels
of “human and inhuman bones” were
imported from the continent of Europe
into the port of Hull, England. The
neighborhood of Leipsic, Austerlitz,
Waterloo, &c., where the principal
battles were fought some fifteen or
twenty years before, were swept alike
of the bones of the hero, and the horse
which he rode. Thus collected from
every quarter, they were shipped to
Hull, and thence forwarded to the York-
shire bone-grinders, who by steam en-
gines and powerful machinery, reduced
them to a granulary state. In this
condition they were sent chiefly to Don-
caster, one of the largest agricultural
markets of the country, and were there
sold to the farmers to manure their
lands. The oily substance gradually
evolving as the bone calcines, makes
better manure than almost any other
substancc—-—particularly human bones.
Some of the good farmers of Yorkshire,
were thus perhaps indebted to the very

bread! What a commentary on war
and militarfr glory does such a fact
furnish us. The soldiers of Englano
going forth to fight her battles on the
Continent, their blood fattening the fields
of her allies, and their bones brought
back to fatten the soil of their fathers!
) CONQUEROR GOING TO
J UDGMEN T.—-Willian1 the Conquer-
or, extremely alarmed on his death-bed,
entreated the clergy to intercede for
him. “ Laden with many and grievous
sins,” he exclaimed, “I tremble; and,
being ready to be taken soon into the
terrible examination of God,I am ig-
norant what I should do. I have been
brought up in feats of arms from my
childhood ; I am greatly polluted with
the effusion of much blood; Ican by
no means number the evils I have done
these sixty-four years, for which I am
now constrained without stay to render
an account to the just Judge.”
(h) THE REWARD OF WAR.----
The Duke of Marlborough observing a
soldier leaning pensively on the butt-
end of his musket, just after victory
had declared itself in favor of the British
arms at the battle of Blenheim, accosted
him thus : “ Why so pensive, my friend,
after so glorious a victory '2” “It may
be glorious,” replied the brave fellow,
“ but I am thinking that all the human
blood I have spilled this day has only
earned mefourpeme.”
(i) SCENE WORTH CONSIDER-
IN G.——The N ew-York Journal of Com-
merce has the following article, depict-
ing the happiness which the news of
peace spread in N ew-York :—-
Years ago, the office of the old Gazette
was in Hanover Square, near the cor-
ner of Pearl-street. It was a place of
resort for news and conversation, espe-
cially in the evening. The evening of
February 15th, 1815, was cold, and at
a late hour only Alderman Cebra and
another gentleman were left with father
Lang, the genius of the place. The
office was about being closed, when a
pilot rushed in and stood for a moment
so entirely exhausted as to be unable to
speak. “He has great news!” ex.
claimed Mr. Lang. Presently the pilot.
gasping for breath, whispered intel-
bones of their Candren for their daily j ligibly, “ Peace ' peace !” The gentle-
860
WAR.
438
men lost their breath as fast as the
pilot gained his. Directly the pilot
was able to say, “An English sloop-
of-war is below with the news of a
treaty of peace.” They say that Mr.
Lang exclaimed in greater words than
he ever used before or after. All
hands rushed into Hanover Square,
crying, “Peace! peace I rmon 1” The
windows flew up, for families lived
there then. No sooner were the in-
‘ mates sure of the sweet sound of
peace, than the windows began to
glow with brilliant illuminations. The
cry of “ Peace! peace! PEACE I” spread
through the city at the top of all
voices. No one stopped to inquire
about “free trade and sai1or’s rights.”
N 0 one inquired whether even the na-
tional honor had been preserved.
The matters by which politicians had
irritated the nation into the war, had
lost all their importance. It was
enough that the ruinous war was over.
An old man in Broadway, attracted
by the noise to his door, was seen to
pull down a placard, “ To let,” which
had been long posted up. Never was
there such joy in the city. A few
evenings after, there was a general
illumination, and although the snow
was a foot deep and soaked with rain,
yet the streets were crowded with
men and women, eager to see and
partake of everything which had in it
the sight and taste of— peace.
(j) CAST THY BREAD UPON
THE WATERS.—-At a meeting of
the Cincinnati Branch of the U. S.
Christian Commission, among other
speakers was Bishop Mcllvaine.
His remarks were designed to show
that the life of the soldier was not
necessarily inimical to religious influ-
ences; that, indeed, most of the cumstances to which the soldier is
subjected, render him peculiarly sub-
ject to spiritual reflections, and it re-
quired only the proper means to be
exercised to secure the happiest re-
sults. He narrated several incidents
to show the opportunities afforded for
making good impressions, one of
which ran as follows :
After a battle, two men were driv-
ing an ambulance over the field, gath-

ering up the wounded One of them,
after examining a poor fellow, passed
on, saying “ he is too far gone, we
can do nothing for him, he will soon
die.” The unfortunate man cried out,
“ Oh yes you can, you can pray for
me.” The driver of the ambulance
replied that he could not pray. The
dying man begged him to stop and
try to pray with him. His appeals
were so affecting that the heart of the
driver was moved, and sought to com-
fort him. Suddenly he thought of
a little book torn and soiled, that
he picked up in the road a few min-
utes before. Possibly it might be a
religious book, and he drew it from
his pocket. The first half was gone,
and on the first of what remained, he
found “a prayer of a dying soldier.”
With joy he read it to his dying com-
panion, whose spirit took its flight.
He preserved the little book, and
when afterward he was a prisoner in
rebel hands, he made it his daily com-
panion, and became a praying Chris-
tian man. That little book was one
of the many thousand volumes the
Christian Commission has distributed
so freely in the army.
THE DRUMMIEB BOY.-1
met, the other day, near here, a little
drummer boy, who says he loves the
Lord Jesus. I love to talk with the
boys in the army. I asked the little
drummer:
“ 'Was your mother willing that you
should come into the army?”
“ Yes sir. She said other mothers
were giving their boys, and she was
willing to give me.”
“Perhaps she needed the money
you can earn, and that made her give
you up.”
The poor boy looked up, hurt and
indignant, and answered:
“ It was not the money, It was
something better. She said I could
do something for my country, for, as
a drummer, I could take the place of
a man. I am here for my country,
Sll‘.i)
“ You are a noble boy,” said I,
“ and your mother is a noble mother.
I hope God will spare her to you, and
you to her, and give a country worth
861
138
WAR.
saving to both of you to be your hap-
py home.”
“ If you could hear my mother
pray,” said he, “ you would think we
had a God and a country.”
(Z) MUSIC AND LIGHT ON
THE BATTLE-FIELD. --A brave
and godly captain in one of our regi-
ments told one of us his story, as we
were removing him to the hospital.
He was shot through both thighs with
a rifle bullet-—a wound from which he
could not recover. While lying on
the field, he suffered intense agony
from thirst. He supported his head
upon his hand, and the rain from
heaven was falling around him. In
a little while a little pool of water
formed under his elbow, and he
thought if he could only get to that
puddle he might quench his thirst.
He tried to get into a position to suck
up a mouthful of muddy water, but
he was unable to reach within a foot
of it. Said he, “I never felt so much
the loss of any earthly blessing. By-
and-by night fell, and the stars shone
out clear and beautiful above the dark
field; and I began to think of the
great God who had given his Son to
die a death of agony for me, and that
he was up there—up above the scene
of suffering, and above those glorious
stars; and I felt that I was going
home to meet him; and praise him
there ; and _I felt that I ought to
raise God, even wounded and on the
battle-field. I could not help singing
that beautiful him,
‘ When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I’ll bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.’
And,” said he, “ there was a Chris-
tian brother in the brush near me. I
could not see him, but I could hear
him. He took up the strain; and
beyond him another and another
caught it up all over the terrible bat-
tle-field of Shiloh. That night the
echo was resounding, and we made
the field of battle ring with hymns of
praise to God 1”
tan) “ TELL THEM HOIV I
DIED.”——A surgeon in one of our
military hospitals, in a private letter
related the following incident:
A soldier from the "' stern and rock-
bound coast ” of Maine--a victim of
the slaughter at Fredericksburg—lay
in this hospital, his life ebbing away
by a fatal wound. He had a father,
brothers and sisters, a wife, and one
little boy, two or three years old,
on whom his heart seemed set. Half
an hour before he ceased to breathe
I stood by his side, holding his hand.
He was in the full exercise of his in-
tellectual faculties, and knew he had
but a brief time to live. He was
asked if he had any message to leave
for his dear ones whom he loved so
well. “Tell them,” said he, “how I
died-—they know how I lived!”
One might speak of the character-
istic New England quality of this un-
complaining, unboastful utterance-—
the hard-handed hero, dying in his
virtue and simplicity for his country
——but he is by no means exceptional,
and we will make no boast of that for
which he took no merit. It is safe to
say that he lived as he died, and this
fact possesses an intimation of the
utmost general importance. If we
know how a man lives, we can scarce-
ly err in anticipating the manner of
his death ; and while the last memo-
rials of a virtuous person’s life are, of
course, full of interest to those who
loved him, they are only so for love’s
sake, and for the witness they bear
to what he was known to be, afore-
time, by his acts. It is the man’s life
that must be his record, rather than
his death; sufficient that the latter
fitly closes this first part of his exis-
tence, and can open the doors to the
next unshamed. “ They know how I
lived,” said the soldier, “tell them
how I died.” With an honest glad-
ness in what his loved ones would
feel when they heard of the faithful
closing of a life that they knew had
not swerved, and would say, “ We
knew him, and knew that it would be
so ”—-he fell asleep on his arms. If
a Christian, it was a closing that could
be but an opening into a glorious and
eternal manhood! a bright example,

that will shine on while He who set
862
WAR.
it is far out of sight, in the higher
tasks of immortality!
(n) THE RIGHT PERSUASION.
--In terrible agony a soldier lay dy-
ing in the hospital. A visitor asked
him, “ What church are you of ?”
“ Of the church of Christ,” he replied.
“ I mean of what persuasion are
you 2” then inquired the visitor.
“Persuasion!” said the dying man,
as his eyes looked heavenward, beam-
ing with love to the Saviour : “I am
persuaded that neither death, nor
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor
powers, nor things present, nor things
to come, nor height, nor depth, nor
any other creature, shall be able to
separate me from the love of God
which is in Christ Jesus.”
(0) THE DYING SOLDIER.--The
wounded were being brought in from
the battlefield, and the surgeon was
passing around trying to alleviate
their sufferings. He paused beside a
bed, and after examining the wound
of a soldier, said:
“ It is useless to do anything here,
you must die ; we cannot save you.”
“What is that, doctor? Die, did
you say? No, I can’t die; I won’t
die. Do anything, give me anything,
and I will take it without a murmur.”
“It is useless; human skill cannot
save you.”
“ Oh! I can’t, I won’t die l”
And the surgeon left him.
Night comes on. The hospital is
dimly lighted, and those who are not
suffering intense pain, have fallen
asleep to dream of their far-off happy
homes, and of the happy hours spent
by them in sunny childhood.
The wounded soldier still lives, but
he tosses restlessly on his bed, vainly
endeavoring to sleep. The words of
the surgeon ring in his ears, and he
feels that they are true. But he dares
not pass from earth and stand before
his Creator, without a plea for forgive-
ness. He has neglected his God
through life, and openly and wilfully
violated His laws, but now that death
draws near, he feels the need of a
Saviour.
“ Oh! how many like him put off
seeking their soul’s salvation until

438
their dying hour, and then pass from
earth with their sins unforgiven ! Oh,
why do they not heed the injunction
of the Lord of Hosts to remember
their Creator in the days of their
youth? They do not mean to die in
their sins, yet they delay. Soldier
friend, delays are dangerous. Put
off no longer turning to the Lord.
“Behold now is the accepted time,
behold now is the salvation.”
But to return to the wounded
soldier. At length he starts up and
tries to rouse a companion, saying :
“ Wake up, Bill; I believe I am
dying. Won’t you pray for me ?”
“I can’t, is the answer; “I don’t
know how.”
“ Oh, must I die, and no one to
pray for me ‘P Can’t you say a short
prayer, Bill ?”
“ N o, I never prayed in my life.”
“ Can’t you say the Lord’s prayer?”
“ N o, I learned it once from m
mother, when I was a little boy, but
I have forgotten i .”
“ Oh, must I die? Our Father—”
That was all he could remember.
Again and again he repeated it ; and
so he died
Who would wish to witness such a
scene? All his life this soldier had
lived in disobedience of God’s laws,
and when too late to remedy it, saw
his fatal error.
Dear soldier, are you in his case?
(p) “ LIGHTS OUT.”——It was
while we were camped at Suffolk,
during Longsl7reet’s siege, in the
spring of 1863, if I rgmember right,
that, one night after “ lights out ” had
sounded, my comrade, who lay sick
in our tent, and who had been delir-
ious several days, and constantly
called for “mother,” and his home
away up beside the old St. Lawrence,
said to me : “Comrade! soon it will
be ‘lights out ’ with me for this world.
Here is my Bible, which she gave me
when I left her for the ‘ Sunny South.’
Take it to her, and tell her, although
it is ‘ lights out ’ with me here, I hope
to go to another land where it is
always light.”
Comrades, how many of us can
say, when it comes to be “lights out ”
863
438
WAR.
with us here, we, too, are bound for
that beautiful land?
(q) “ IS THAT MOTHER?”—-
Among the many brave, uneomplain-
ing fellows who were brought up from
the battle of Fredericksburg, was a
bright-eyed, intelligent young man,
or boy, rather, of sixteen years, who
belonged to a Northern regiment. He
appeared to be more affectionate and
tender than his comrades, and at-
tracted a good deal of attention from
the attendants and visitors. Mani-
festly the pet of some household, he
longed for nothing so much as the
arrival of his mother, who was ex-
pected, for she lmew he was mortally
wounded and failing fast. Ere she
arrived, however, he died. But he
thought she had come, for while a
kind lady visitor was wiping the
death sweat from his brow, as his
sight was failing, he rallied a little,
like an expiring taper in its socket,
looked up longingly and joyfully, and
in the tenderest pathos whispered,
quite audibly, “is that mother?” in
tones that drew tears from every eye.
Then, drawing her toward him, with
all his feeble power, he nestled
his head in her arms like a sleeping
infant, and thus died, with the sweet
word “mother ” on his quivering lips.
(r) DIFFICULTIES OF PIOUS
SOLDIERS.--A chaplain in the En-
glish army says : “The soldier who
makes a profession of religion may
count upon the enmity and the op-
position of the majority of his com-
rades. We have known cases where
such men, on lying down, have cover-
ed their faces, that they might be
able to pray without attracting‘ atten-
tion ; they were led to adopt this ex-
pedient; from the annoyance they had
suffered on attempting to pray open-
ly. And yet even among soldiers a
sort of rude, imperfect idea of reli-
gious toleration is occasionally to be
met with. On one occasion a young
soldier had knelt down to pray at
night; a howl of derision rose from
the other inmates of the barrack-
room, and several missiles were
thrown at him, when a stalwart York-
Bhireman, whose word was law to his
864

-—
comrades, stood up and commanded
them to desist. ‘This,’ he said, ‘is
Liberty Hall; if a man chooses to
pray, he may pray ; if another
chooses to swear, he may swear ; but
the one had better not interfere with
the other, unless he wishes to feel the
weight of my arm.’ ”
(s) “ SOLDIER, ARE YOU HUN-
GRY ?”—- About eighteen months
ago a regiment passed through Balti-
more, en route to Washington, and
having occasion to halt for awhile in
one of the streets, one of the soldiers
was approached by a little fellow, who
inquired of him, “ Soldier, are you
hungry?” The soldier replying in
the affirmative, the little fellow in-
vited him to his home near by, and
set before him a bountiful repast. A
few weeks since the regiment return-
ed through Baltimore en route home,
their term of enlistment having ex-
pired, and the soldier who, for meri-
torious service in the field, had risen
to the rank of captain, not forgetful
of the kindness of his little friend,
sought him out and presented him
with a handsome photographic al-
bum, containing the photographs of
all the most prominent generals in
the Union army. Inscribed upon the
back of the album in beautiful gilt
letters, were the words, “ Soldier, are
you hungry?” This little boy is the
son of a Lutheran minister of that
city.
(25) A ROLLING CHA]?LAIN.---
The son of Dr. Eastman, Secretary of
the Tract Society, is a chaplain. His
horse plunging during a battle, struck
him on the knee-pan. His leg swelled
and stiffened until the pain became
almost unendurable. When he could
no longer stand, he gave his horse up
to a servant, and had himself to lie on
the ground.
As he lay on his back, suffering and
thinking, he heard a voice---“ Oh, my
God I” He thought, can anybody be
swearing in such a place as this? He
listened again, and a prayer began.
It was a wounded soldier praying.
How can I get to him? was his first
thought. He tried to draw up his
stiffened limb, the while setting his
or
J‘
WORSHIP, PUBLIC.
439
teeth and clenching his hands for the
pain. But he could not rise. He
then thought, “ I can roll.” And
over and over, in pain, he rolled, in
blood, and over dead bodies, until he
fell against a dying man, and there he
preached Christ, and prayed. At
length one of the line ofiicers came
up and said: “ Where’s the chaplain?
Where’s the chaplain? One of the
staff officers is dying.”
“ Here he is, here he is,” cried out
the suffering hero.
“ Well, such an ofiicer is dying,
dan’t you come and see him ?”
“I cannot move. I have just rolled
up to this dying man to talk to him.”

“ If I detail two men to carry you,
shall they do it ?”
“ Yes.”
They took him gently up and car-
ried him. And that livelong night,
these two men carried him over the
battle-field, and laid him down in
blood beside bleeding, dying men;
and he preached Christ to them, and
prayed. He had to look up then,
brethren; he could look no other
way from that position, not even into
the face of the dying ; and with God’s
stars shining down on him, and hea-
ven bending over him, he had to
preach Christ and pray.
439. WORSHIP. PUBLIC.
(a) MR. DOOLITTLE AND HIS
UNEASY HEARER.—- The Rev.
Thomas Doolittle, at one time, having
finished prayer, looked round upon the
congregation, and observing a young
man, who had just been put into one of
the pews, very uneasy in his situation,
adopted the following singular expe-
dient to detain him. Turning to one
of the members of his church, who sat
in the gallery, he asked this question
aloud, “Brother, do you repent of com-
ing to Christ ?” “ No, sir,” he replied,
“ I never was happy till I came ; I only
repent that I did not come to him soon-
er.” The minister then turned to the
opposite gallery, and addressed himself
to an aged member in the same manner,
“Brother, do you repent of coming to
Christ ?” “ No, sir,” said he, “I have
known the Lord from my youth up-
wards.” He then looked down upon
the young man, whose attention was
fully engaged, and, fixing his eyes upon
him, said, “ Young man, are you willing
to come to Christ ?” This unexpected
address from the pulpit, exciting the
observa on of all the people, so greatly
affected him, that he sat down and con-
cealed is face. The person who sat
next to rim encouraged him to rise and
answer .he question. The minister re-
peated “Young man, are you willing

to come to Christ Cl” With a tremulous
voice he replied, “Yes, sir.” “But
when, sir ?” added the minister in a
solemn and loud tone. He mildly an-
swered, “Now, sir.” “Then stay.”
said he, “and learn the word of God,
which you will find in 2 Cor. vi. ‘.2:
‘Behold, now is the accepted "ne ; be-
hold, now is the day of salvation.’ ”
By this sermon he was greatly affected,
and came into the vestry, after the ser-
vice, bathed in tears. The reluctance to
stay, which he had discovered, was oc-
casioned by the strict injunctions of his
father, who threatened, that if he went
to hear such preachers, he would turn
him out of doors. Having now heard
the gospel, and being unable to conceal
the feelings of his mind, he was afraid
to meet his father. The minister sat
down, and wrote an affectionate letter
to him, which had so good an effect,
that both father and mother came to
hear for themselves. They were both
brought to a knowledge of the truth;
and, together with their son, were joy-
fully received into Christian commu-
nion.
(Z1) THE EARLY HEARER.—-—A
woman, who always used to attend pub-
lic worship with great punctuality. and
took care to be always in time, was
asked how it was she could always
865
Q39-44]
WRATH OF MAN-ZEAL IN DOING GOOD.

come so early. She answered, very
wisely, “It is a part of my religion not
to disturb the religion of others.”
(0) THE COUNTESS’S EXAM-
PLE.-——The Countess of Burford, for
the last few years of her life, had to
ride, almost constantly, on horseback,
upwards of sixteen miles, to and from
the place where she attended to hear
the gospel ; yet neither frost, snow, rain,
nor ba roads were sufiicient to detain
her at home, nor to prevent her being
there before the worship began. '
(d) THE DRUNKARD REFORM-
ED.—The Rev. W. Ward, of Scram-
pore, once preached from Eccles. xi. 9:
“Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth,”
&c. A notorious drunkard became,

under this sermon, very seriously con.
vinced of the importance of religion;
and, with his wife, a short time after-
wards made a profession of faith in
Christ. Previously to this, his master
had used every means he could devise
to persuade him to become sober, but in
vain. After this change, his employer
wished to prevail on him not to attend
the chapel ; but he replied, “ You know,
sir, what a drunkard I have been, and
how often you have urged me in vain to
leave it off; yet by going once to the
chapel, I was constrained to do that
which none of your remonstrances were
able to effect: therefore I wish to go
again.”
440. WRATH OF MAN PRAISING GOD.
ta) DR. KALLEY SELLING THE
SCRIPTURES IN PRISON. — Dr.
Kalley, who was so long imprisoned at
Madeira for distributing the Scriptures,
and speaking to the people of the things
of the kingdom, sold more copies of the
Scriptures weekly during his imprison-
ment, than he had been able previously
to do monthly; and in a few months of
the same period, be distributed 30,000
religious tracts, besides receiving regu-
lar visits from between two and three
hundred natives, to obtain religious in-
struction—all of whom were more or
less under gracious influence, and some
441. ZEAL IN
(a) PAINTING WITH THE
MOUTI-I.—At a public meeting, the
Rev. Dr. Henderson related the follow-
ing anecdote respecting a female in one
of the large trading towns of England.
She was il)I"“t“I‘ly a most abandoned
charaeter—one ‘f the most wicked wo-
men, perhaps, that ever trod on the
face of the globe. However, by the
grace of God, she was brought to a
knowledge of the truth, and was sent to
a penitentiary, where she gave the most
decided evidence of a saving change of

of them hopefully converted to God.
The government could not have taken
a more effectual way to spread what
they call heresy, than to imprison this
faithful servant of God. So it ever has
been, and ever will be. All opposition
to the gospel turns out to its furtherance.
Were men as wise as they fancy them-
selves to be, they would let it alone, for
measures of violence against the truth
never fail to recoil on the heads of their
authors. “The righteous flourish like
the palm-tree.” Their strength and
beauty increase in proportion to the
weight of oppression laid on them.
DOING GOOD.
heart; but, shortly after being put into
that situation, she was deprived of the
use both of her hands and her feet.
Her heart, however, was full of love to
the Savior, and she was at a loss to
show forth the praises of that God who
had called her out of darkness into his
marvelous light. She could not walk
about to tell what God had done for her
soul ; she could not employ her hands,
but she learned to write with her mouth,
and the letters thus written being sold
for small sums, produced something
866
ZEAL IN DOING GOOD.
44]
considerable to the funds of the peniten-
tiary. She began to learn the art of
painting, and the sale of those paint-
ings, which she accomplished with her
mouth, produced last year $75 to the
funds of the institution. We would not
say, Go and do likewise; but we would
say, You have hands and you have feet,
and you have a tongue to tell the won-
ders of Redemption: go and do what
you can.
(b) LE PELLETIER AND THE
MERCHANT. — I was traveling
through Orleans, says Diderot, accom-
panied by an oflicer. Nothing was
talked of in the town but of what had
lately happened to an inhabitant of the
name of Le Pelletier; a man who
showed the deepest commiseration for
the poor ; so that, after having, by his
great liberality, exhausted a considera-
ble fortune, he was reduced to a state
of poverty himself. Though he had
barely sufficient for his daily wants, he
yet persisted in the benevolent labors
he had undertaken, and went from door
to door, seeking, from the superfluities
of others, that assistance for the desti-
tute which it was no longer in his pow-
er to bestow.
The poor and well-informed persons
had but one opinion of the conduct of
this individual; but many rich men,
who wasted their substance in riotous
feastings and journeys to Paris, looked
upon him as a ntadman, and his near
relations treated him as a lunatic who
had foolishly spent his wealth.
Whilst refreshing ourselves at the
inn, a number of loiterers had assem-
bled round a man who was speaking, a
hairdresser, and were earnestly address-
ing him, “You were present, do tell
us how it was.”
“ Willingly, gentlemen,” replied he,
and appeared as impatient to relate as
they were to hear, the following narra-
tire :— ‘
Monsieur Aubertot, one of my custo-
mers, whose house faces the church,
was standing at his door, when Mons.
le Pelletier accosted him, “Monsieur,
can you give me nothing for my
friends '2” (thus he called the poor.)
“ Not to-day, sir.”
Mons. le Pelletier added, “Oh! if

you but knew for whom I ask your
charity! There is a poor woman! a
distressed mother! who has not a rag
to wrap round her new-born babe l—’’
‘‘ I cannot to-day i”
“ There is a daughttr, who, though
young, has for a long while maintained
her father and her mother; but now
she wants work, and starves.”
“I cannot, Mons. le Pelletier ; I
cannot afford it.”
“ There is a poor working man, who
earns his bread by hard labor; he has
just broken his leg by a fall from a
scaffolding.”
“ But, sir, I cannot afford it, I assure
you.”
“ Pray, pray, Mons. Aubertot, allow
yourself to be moved; oh, have com-
passion !”
“I cannot afford it, sir; I cannot, in-
deed, aflbrd it.”
“My good, good, merciful Mons.
Aubertot—”
“ Mons. le Pelletier, I beg you will
leave me: when I wish to give, you
know I do not need to be entreated.”
Saying these words, he turned and
passed into his warehouse. Mons. le
Pelletier soon followed him to his ware-
house, to his back shop, and then into
his apartment. Here Mons. Aubertot
exasperated by his continued and press-
ing entreaties, lifted his hand, and
struck him ! The blow was received.
The hero of Christian charity smiled,
and with a bright smiling look exclaim-
ed, “ VVell, that for me; but the poor!
what for the poor '2”
[At these words all present express-
ed their admiration by a burst of ap-
plause, and the feelings of some pro-
duced tears.]
The officer with whom I was, had
the presumption to exclaim, “ Mons. le
Pelletier is but a poltroon, and had I
been there, this sabre would soon have
obtained satisfaction for him. A blow,
indeed! a blow!”
The hairdresser replied, “ I perceive,
sir, you would not have allowed the
insolent offender time to acknowledge
his fault.”
“ No, indeed!”
“ Well, sir, Mons. Aubertot, when
he saw such a benevolen spirit, burst
S67
441
ZEAL IN DOING GOOD.
__—

—F-‘_
into tears, fell at the feet of the injured
man, offered him his purse, and a thou-
sand times asked his forgiveness.”
“ But, what of that Cl” said the oflicer,
his hand upon his sabre, and his coun-
tenance infiamed with anger, “ I would
have cut off the ears of Mons. Auber-
tot.”
I then answered calmly, “You, sir,
are a soldier; Mons. le Pelletier is a
Christian !”
These few plain words had a wonder-
ful effect. The street resounded with
applause; and I said within myself,
How much more dignified are we with
the gospel in our heart, than when
we would maintain, at the point of
the sword, that imaginary idol, that
vain phantom, which the world calls
honor!
(c) MELVILLE AND HIS BRE-
THREN.—-Mr. Andrew Melville, pro-
fessor of divinity at St. Andrews, in the
reign of James VI, was a very bold
and zealous man for the cause of God
and truth. When some of his more
moderate brethren blamed him for being
too hot and fiery, he was wont to reply,
“ If you see my fire go downwards, set
your foot upon it and put it out ; but if
it go upward, let it return to its own
place.”
(d) HOWARD’S LABORS.—-The
great philanthropist, John Howard, after
868

inspecting the receptacles of crime, of
poverty, and of misery throughout Great
Britain and Ireland, left his native
country, relinquished his own ease, to
Visit the wretched abodes of those who
were. in want and bound in fetters of
iron in other parts of the world. He
traveled three times through France,
four through Germany, five through
Holland, twice through Italy, once
through Spain and Portugal, and also
through Denmark, Sweden, Russia,
and part of Turkey. These excursions
occupied (with some short intervals of
rest at home) the period of twelve
years.
Never before was such a considerable
portion of the life of man applied to a
more benevolent and laudable purpose.
He gave up his own comfort that he
might bestow it upon others. He was
often immured in prison that others
might be set at liberty. He exposed
himself to danger that he might free
others from it. He visited the gloomy
cell that he might inspire a ray of hope
and joy in the breasts of the wretched.
Yea, he not only lived, but died in the
noble cause of benevolence; for in
visiting a young lady, who lay danger-
ously ill of an epidemic fever, in order to
administer relief, he caught the distem-
per, and fell a victim to his humanity,
January 20th, 1790.
TOPICAL INDEX.
Tan numbers in this Index refer to the regular topics, which may be found in the book at me top of the ages;
Ind when letters are joined to the figures they refer to particular anecdotes, which are designatei by the same letter!
where they are placed.
Abney, Sir T., and family worship, 328g.
Absolution, papal, 301, 302, 356a. ,3
Abstinence, total, &.c.
the pecuniary advantage, &c., 1.
the only safe ground,‘2.
influence and respect, &c., 3.
illustrious examples, &.c., 4.
lessons, from the brutes, 5.
Abuse in prayer, 32Gb.
Acases, and the captives, 203d.
Actors, 6.
Actress converted, 352k.
Adams. John, and the Sabbath, 382d.
Adams, John Quincy, and the Bible, 68:1.
Adams, Rev. Z., eccentricity of, 261m.
Adrian, character of, 117d.
and the bishop, 142a.
and his enemy, 1580.
and Ximenes, 4070.
Adrianus and the martyrs, 194k.
Adultery-—-“ the happy rake,” 246b.
Affection, conjugal, 7, 241, 4360.
filial, exemplified, 8, 436d.
filial, rewarded, 9.
fillial, want of, 273.
fraternal, 10.
maternal, 11, 287.
paternal, 12.
parental, want of, 272
Afiiiction, benefits of, 13, 348a, b, c.
comforts in, 50, 66, 190, 192.
gratitude for, 14.
Africaner, conversion of, 2787:.
Age of Reason, 60d,f, 225d.
Aged, the, conversion of, 15, 125, 126b, c,224a.
reverence for, 16.
temptations of, 1781).
agents of benevolent societies, 17.
Agesilaus and his children, 12a.
Agrippa and Thaumastus, 2031;.
Ailmer, Rev. Dr., faith of, 172a.
Alarms of conscience, groundless, 94.
Alexander the Great and his mother, Ba.
and Clitus, 20a.
and his victories, 1606.

Alexander and the humane driver, 203a.
and his influence, 225e.
tears of, 319d.
and Diogenes, 429e.
Alexander, of Russia, and the peasant, 45g.
and the ninety~first Pslam, 5312.
Alexander, Duke of Tuscany, and the peasant,
29d.
Alfred the Great and his last loaf, 47m.
and the Psalier, 67d.
and his alphabet, 287a.
Alick, Blind, 69a.
Alienation prevented by confession, 91.
Alleine, Rev. J ., reproof from, 37111.
Alphonsus, clemency of, 203e.
Alterations in the Bible, 67c.
Ambert, Eliza, and her lover, 253 f.
Ambition, 18, 333.
Ames, Fisher, and the Bible, 556.
Amusements, vain, 30, 32, 116a, e, 350f, 411.
Amurath, wrath of, subdued by music, 289g.
Anatomy proves a God, 185d, e.
Anaximander and his enemies, 40711.
Ancestry, 19.
Anderson, Rev. Mr., and the merchant, ‘$466.
Andromachus and his admiral, 429d.
Anger indulged, 20.
subdued, 21, 254.
Animals benefited by the Sabbath, 378.
life preserved from, or by, 343.
Annihilation, 22.
Anthony and revenge, 2022'.
Antigonus, self—control of, 401g.
Antinomianism, 23.
Antiquity, 24.
Antony and Aurelius, 45¢.
Anundo, conversion of, 54k.
Apologies, 25.
Apostacy, 26, 13g, h,j, 231:.
Appetite, slavery of, 2, 230, 2466, 4126, e, ‘
Applause, 27.
Arethusus, firmnes of, 173b,
Arians confounded, 81!).
miscellaneous, 427.
869
TOPICAL INDEX.

Aristides, as a judge, 239d.
banishment of, 239e.
Aristippus and ]Eschmes, 361a.
Aristotle and theatres, 411g.
Armada, the Spanish, 3411:.
Arnold, Benedict, a rumseller and drunkard,
236a
Artzmerxes and the favorite, 18f.
Aflurance of faith, 172, 240.
of hope, 200.
of love to Christ, 249.
Asbury, Bishop, and Punch, 109a.
and his good works, 256g.
Atheism and atheists, 73a, c, g, 185, a-—e,209c,
213a, 216d, 219d, e,221a, b, 222e, 223e,
Athenagoras, conversion of, 2l4b.
Athol, Duke of, a lunatic, 42912.
Atonement, 28, 81, 240, 256.
Attendance on Divine worship, 193, 279g, 350e,
Augustine, conversion of, 65a.
fortunate mistake of, 3-’15e.
Aurelius and Antony, 45c.
Avarice, 29, 48, 267.
Avery, Rev. Mr., and the promises, 171.
Backsliders,backsliding, 13g, 72., 26, 1450, 2250,
2310.
Backus, Azel, and the heathen, 242e.
Bacon, Lord, and atheism, 83g.
Bacon, Dr., and minrsterial education, 1510.
Baily, Rev. .1., and family prayer, 328a.
Btnazet and Tamerlane, 1160.
Balls, or public dances, incompatible with pray-
er, 30.
deaden natural sensibility, 31.
prevent conversion and ruin the soul, 32.
Bankruptcy, 33, 146c, 1820, b, c.
and Sabbath-breaking, 381k, 3840,
Baptism, 8411, (1, e, f.
Barclry, and the robber, 2916.
Barrow, Dr., and Rochester, 261q.
Battles and battle-fields, 431.
Bautarn, Mons , and the Bible, 55g.
Baxter, Rev. Richard, his delay and loss, 42d.
beneficence of, rewarded, 47j.
labors of, 258g.
Bayard and his hostess, 44a.
Beatification of Romish saints, 304a, b.
Beaufort, Cardmal, death of, l20j.
Beauty, 34.
Becket, Thomas a, shrine of, 3040.
character of, 337g.
.Bede’s translation of the Bible, 53a.
Bedell, Rev. Dr., sermon of, 195d.
Beecher, Dr , sermon of to one hearer, 2632'
Beecher, Rev. Henry Ward, and profanity, 356d.
Beggars, beggaiy, 35, 3330.
Bell, David W , recantation of, 4266.
Beneficence. in hazai-ding life, 36.
in dymg for others, 37.
self-(lenymg, shown by the rich, 38.
sell-uenymg, shown by the poor, 39
with rule and system, 40.
with industry and frugahty, 41.
with promptitude, 42.
to debtors and robbers, 43.
Q
Beneficence, miscellaneous examplesof, 44, :1.
184, 279a, 286, 3l7a—-g, 418, 420a.
rewarded by us own exercise, 45.
rewarded by gratitude and respect, 46, 203.
rewarded in vanous ways by Providence
47, 282.
Benevolence, want of, 48, 29j.
misdirected, 49.
and cruelty combined, 117.
Bennet, Rev Mr., and unsuccessful preaching,
2560.
Bereavements—-the bereaved comforted, 50,
4090, g,j, k.
the bereaved converted, 51, 3485.
the bereaved rebuked, 52.
Berridge and Hicks, success of. 26312.
Bessus and the birds, 94e.
Beveridge, Bishop, at death, 20012.
and music, 289i.
Bible, historical facts, 53.
inspiration of, 54, 6011, e, f, z’, 237d, e, g.
testimonies to the value of the-—
testimony of distinguished persons, 55.
testimony of infidels, 56.
har$y effects of the—-
morality promoted, 57.
mnversion of seamen, 58.
conversion of the profligate, &c., 59.
conversion of infidels, 60.
conversion of Papists, 61.
conversion of soldiers, 62.
conversion of the learned, &c., 63.
conversion of the heathen, 64.
miscellaneous conversions, 65.
benefits to Christians, 66
love for the Bible, 67.
semching the Scriptures, 68.
familiarity with the Bible, 69.
the Bible neglected, &c., 70, 299, 310:.
zeal in circulating the, 71.
miscellaneous, 72, 183, 219a.
Birth, obscurity of, 19b, 0, d.
Bishop, Mr , and delirium tremens, 2361;.
Blackstone, punctuality of, 3556.
Blair, , and virtue embodied, 1321.
Blair, Mr., and evil company, 87c.
Blasphemy, 73, 304e, 358a, 359b.
Blessings at meals, 329.
on enemies, 155.
Blind, the, blindness, 14b, 0, 69a, 1166, 15318
278g, 286e.
Blount, character of, 215d.
Boerhaave and slander, 407b, f, g.
Boldness, 112, 260.
Bolingbroke and Lady Huntingdon, 3210.
and Christianity, 217d.
Bonaparte, Louis, and war, 437j.
Bonaparte, Napoleon, high hopes of, 180
and the peasant, 18d.
and the church-clock, 18c.
blasphemy of, 73a".
and the Divinity of Christ, 81g.
dying, 122g.
worshiped, 269a.
delight of, in massacre, 3586.
Bonnell, integrity of, 228f.
Bonner, his treatment of Cranmer, 298a.
870
TOPICAL INDEX.

‘_“..u- —-
Books, religious, usefulness of, in effecting con-
versions, 74.
in promoting revivals, 75.
Borgia, dying confession of, 120b.
Bourdaloue and Louis XIV, 260k.
eloquence of, l53e.
Bourne, Captain, and fishing on the Sabbath,
381k.
Boyle, Hon. Robert, benevolence of, 71a.
interest of, in missions, 2860.
Bowdler, apt saying of, 1880
Bradbury and the assassin, 349a.
Brainerd and the Indians, 209a.
Bribery, 2281;, g, 2390.
Bricconet, apostacy of, 2250
Brothers, affectionate, 10.
Brown, Rev. D., punctuality of, 3550.
Brown, Rev. J ., tribute to, 153f.
and his enemies, 156j.
confession of, 1880.
and the opposer, 261i.
submission of, 4092'.
Brougham and war, 4371.
Bruce, Robert, death of, 1190.
Bmen and his enemy, 1550.
B1utes, lessons from the, 5, 231a, 2350.
Buchanan, Rev. Claudius, and the Highlanders,
54h.
and the Bible-reader, 672'.
and the aged Christian, 107a.
and the Syrian Christians, 237e.
Buckley’s misdirected letter, 134b.
Buller, Judge, and evil company, 87d.
Bundy and the prisoner, 2421).
Bunyan, Rev. John, zeal of, 258f.
and the jailer, 344e.
Bumford, Countess of, and public worship, 4390.
Burnet, Bishop, benevolence of, 45d.
Burkitt, Rev. \/Vn1., and his injurers, 157d.
Butler, Bishop, at death, 17212.
dinner with, 2510.
Butler, Hon. B. F., a Sunday School teacher,
399f.
Butterworth, Rev. J ., experience of, 1690.
Byne, Rev. Mr., at a dance, 300.
Byrd, Colonel, and the chief, l79e.
Byron, confession of, 830.
and the fortune-teller, 177a.
Cadogan, Rev. B. W., and the musician 2611:.
Caesar, Augustus, and idolatry, 2680
Caesar, Julius, at Pharsalia, 202a.
benevolence of, 456.
and his enemies, 158b.
Calumny, 407.
Calvary, rock of, 81f.
Calvin, disinterestedness of, 1421').
and Eckius, 1732'.
labors of, 2581).
Cambyses and Caligula, 1630.
Candor, 407h.
Cannibalism, 274.
Card-playing, 76.
Carey, Dr., humility of, 204m.
labors of, 28612.
Marshman and Ward’s donations, 286w.
Carter, Rev. J , and the tanner, 243e.
State, 77 2840, b.

Cathcart, diary of, 1890.
Cato, reward of, in doing good, 454.
and Marius Curius, 1030.
the model and the monster, 3180.
Cecil, Rev. R., and the bookseller, 13a.
and the servant girl, 47l.
in illness, 66g.
and his dying mother, 118g.
faithfulness of, 1450.
and the robbers, 1980.
love of, for study, 2581.
indebtedness of, to his mother, 2879.
obedience of, to his father, 296a.
and his rich hearer, 37472.
Censure, censoriousness, 78, 407.
Chalmers, Dr., and the nobleman, 1110.
congregation of, 193f.
early preaching of, 2567'.
Chandler, Rev. Dr , and illness, 131.
Character, loss of, 1410.
Charity, gospel, 36-47, 83a, a§,f. 106-110, 154-
162, 175, 176, 202, 203, 277a, 0, f
279e,f, i, 285, 286, 291-294, 311, 313
317.
Charles V, words of, 3190.
disappointed, 337i.
Charles IX and the Prince of Condé, 1730..
and the Catholic governor, 202b
and Movilliers, 239g.
Charles, Archduke, humanity of, 203)‘.
Charles, Rev. Mr , humility of, 204f.
practice of, 26217.
escape of, 345f.
Charlotte, Princess, benevolence of, 38d.
Chastisement of children, 135-139.
Chastity, 7g, 246a.
Cherokee Indians and the Osages, 1560.
Chesterfield and the infidel, 83h.
and the vanity of the world, 429g.
Children, moral and religious influence of, ‘F9
328a,j, n, 388, 389, 395d, 39f 1 33 .
happy deaths of pious, 80.
duty to, 135-139
Chinese, pretensions of the, 2-1.
monarch and the rebels, 160d.
superstition of the, 268a.
infanticide of the, 272a.
and European idolatry, 2830
Choirs in churches, 289e, ll-
Christ, divinity of, 81.
miscellaneous, 82.
denial of, 130.
love of, 186.
character of, 218.
love to, 248, 249.
crucifixion of, 261d.
Christian, Rev. Mr., death of, 119)’
Christianity, character of, 217.
Christians, the early, 162b, 0, at, 4876, 0
Chronology of the Chinese, 24.
Chrysostom in exile, 112b.
and profanity, 339m.
Church discipline, 140.
joining the, 84.
Churches, difliculties in, 134-
Cicero, retort of, 190.
and idolatry, 2680.
and war, 437a
S7 1
TOPICAL INDEX.

-_._.-—._
Clarke, Dr. A., early scruples of, 98g.
and the dying man, 37371.
Clarke, Mr. A , and his workmen, 3396.
Clarke, Rev. .T., chscouraged, 264e.
a peacemaker, 361b.
Claiendon and war, 437f.
Claude and the prisoner, 175f.
Clemency, 43, 154-162, 202, 203.
Clement XIV and his ambassador, 1130.
Clothing, gay, 146, 337j, k, 403a, c.
Cobb, N athamel R., covenant of, 400.
dying words of, 19471.
example of, 2240.
Cobbett and the duelist, 148a.
Coke, Dr., and his hostess, 419a.
Cole, Dr., commission of, 345g.
Collins, William, and the Bible, 55f.
Collins, the infidel, and Shaftsbury, 2156.
and the countryman, 297d.
Collins, John A., lectures of, 2230.
Colporteuis, 250a, 4142'.
Colstone and his missing ship, 38f.
and his vessel saved by a dolphin, 47d
Colt, punishment with the, 435b.
Combustion, spontaneous, 234a.
Commandment, the eleventh, 2610.
Commandments, the ten, 54a, 836, 1327:, i, 211,
366d.
Commentaries, 85.
Commerce and missions, 282g.
Commodus, cruelty of, 115a.
Communion of the Lord’s Supper, 86.
Company, evil, 87.
Compassion, 36, 37, 154-162, 184.
Concert, monthly, influence of, 2822'.
Condé and the Bible, 541.
firmness of, 1730.
Conference meetings, 88.
Confession, noble examples of, 89.
Confession of sin, happy effects of—-procures
peace of mind, 90.
prevents alienation, 91.
subdues enmity and leads to conversion, 92.
heals divisions and promotes revivals, 93.
Confession and absolution, 302.
miscellaneous, 57c, 95, 96.
Confidence in God, 90, 294, 353.
Conscience, power of, with the guilty-—in
groundless suspicions and alarms, 94.
in confession and reparation of injuries, 95.
in confession and voluntary submission to
punishment, 96.
miscellaneous examples, 97, 365.
Conscientiousness, examples of, 123a, 228, 239,
381a, 382, 389a, d, 4051;. \
want of,, 99.
Consecration to God, 100.
Consistency, Christian, 101.
Consideration, 102.
Sonstancy in prayer, 323.
Constantine and the miser, 4290.
Contentment, 103, 191.
Controversy, 104.
Conversation between Christians, 105.
Conversation, religious, with the impenitent--
way for humble Christians to be useful, 106.
influence of earnestness, &c , 107.
happy results, 820 , 109.
Conversation, religious, with the impenitent--
various interesting conversions, 110.
the duty neglected, 111.
Cooke, the infidel, confession of, 216a.
Cooke, Rev. J , and the duelist, 1406.
and the farmer, 2611‘.
Cornet and the judge, 197b.
Corruption of the heart and life a cause of infi.
delity, 213.
Cotton, Rev. .I., sermon of, 259e.
Counterfeiters reclaimed, 57d.
Courage, moral, 4d, 112, 173, 175f, 260, 2796
e, 284a, 285,‘, 2', 331
Courtesy, 113.
Coventry dole, 47d.
Covetousness, 29, 48, 101d, 267, 374.
Cowper, William, experience of, 28g.
benevolence of, .
his view of death, 172g.
Cowper, Bishop, and his wife, 1751:.
Cranmer and his unworthy hand, ‘
the Bible of, 53;‘.
and the traitors, 176b.
and Bonner, 298/1.
Credulity, 1 14, 177, 306a, c.
Cressin, defence of, 210a.
Croesus, advice of, to Cyrus, 251b.
Cromwell and Rev. J. Howe, 45a.
and the merchant, 46a.
Crombie’s care for business, 41g.
Crow, Dr., and the legacy, 44k.
Crucifixion of Christ, 261d.
Cruden and the gardener, 38612.
Cruelty exemphfied, 115, 8b.
punished, 116, 316.
and benevolence combined, 117.
to parents, 273.
Cudjoe and Murray, 179d.
Cupido, conversion of, 2782'.
Cyprian and the pestilence, 162d.
and the captives, 247e.
Cyrus, epitaph of, 1220.
crown of, 319a.
Dairyman’s Daughter, conversion of, 263a.
Damon and Pythias, 179a.
Dancer, Daniel, the miser, 2676.
Dances, public, 30—-32.
Danger, infidels in, 221.
preservation fiom, 341-345.
Darracott, Rev. R , ministry of, 364f.
Daughters, affectionate, 861, 9a, 1:, n.
Davies, Rev. S , posthumous influence of, 224:.
Davies, Rev. N., and his dissolute son, 352b.
Day, Rev W., death—bed oi 1190.
Dawson, Rev. W., and the p dler, 2602'.
Death, readiness for, 118, 240b, c.
happy deaths of Christians, 80, 119, 280,
395
unreadiness for, 120, 2191:, 237.
miserable deaths of the impenitent, 121,
222, 426, 427e.
miscellaneous, 122.
influence after, 224, 225, 229a.
in the act of sin, (is, cl, 359.
in the theatre, 411p.
Debates, 104, 214d.
De Brez, glorying in trials, 1921'.
872
TOPICAL INDEX.
Debts on meeting houses, 123.
Decalogue, the, 54a, 83b, 132b,i. 211, 366d.
Decision, Christian, exemplified, 173, 333n, 403.
happy effects of, 382e.
Decius, death of, 3160.
Decrees, divine, 124.
Dcering, Rev. Mr , and the swearer, 254a.
Degradation of intemperance, 231.
Dehme, Rev. L. C., narrow escape of, 2850.
De Lambert, lie of, 215d.
Delay of repentance causes regret, &c., 125.
hardens the heart, 150, 126, 196, 367.
grieves away the Holy Spirit, 127, 365a,
367.
accompanied by sudden death, 128.
miscellaneous, 129.
Delicacy, false, 265k.
Delight in wickedness, 358.
Delirium tremens, 236b.
Delusion, moral, 402.
Demetrius and the Athenians, 184a.
Denades and the Athenians, 252d.
Denial of Christ, 130.
Dependence on God, 131.
Depravity, 70, 73, 117, 132, 213, 288.
De Sallo and the robber, 430.
Des Barreaux, poem of, 2872.
Deserter, execution of a, 4340.
7espair, unfounded, 133, 406b.
Despair of the impenitent, 32b, 0, f, 70b, d, f,
87b, 970, 120b, 1210-g, 126a, 128d, e,
129e, 196, 310a, 4060.
Devil, existence and agency of, 400, 425f.
Devizes, inscription at, 2080.
Devotees, Hindoo, 28b, 2790, f.
Devotedness of ministers, 258.
Dickinson, Rev. B , sudden death of, 122a.
Diderot, confession of, 56b.
and his servant, 44b.
Difliculties in churches, 13-1.
Dioclesian, confession of, 315a.
death of, 3160.
Diogenes and pride in dress, 146d.
reply of, to Alexander, 429e.
Discipline. family-—d1sciphning children in in-
fancy, 135.
disciphne accompanied with prayer, 136.
religious tendency of discipline, 137.
discipline withheld, 138.
miscellaneous, 139.
Discipline, church, 140.
Dishonesty punished, 1-11.
miscellaneous, 180-182, 252, 373, 373, 377.
Disinterestedness, 142, 258g.
Disobedience to parents, 143.
Disquietude and misery of infidels, 219.
Distillers, 1'14.
Distinctions, nice. in sermons, 261 f.
Divisions in churches, 93, 104f, 134.
Doctorates, venal, 199d.
DuCl, Rev. Mr., and his persecutors, 13b.
meekness of, 2540
and the nobleman, 260g.
singular visit 0* 34-ii.
Doddridge, Rev. Dr., and the apostate 267:.
and his daughter, 4619.
and Rev. Mr. Hervey 105d.
righteousness of, 17001

A
Doddridge, call of, to the ministry, 257a.
and the Dutch tiles, 287b.
Dog, anecdotes of the, 288d, m, p, 3437:, 7:.
Domitian, death of, 3160.
Donne, Dr., and the murderer, 288e.
Doolittle, Rev. Thomas, and his uneasy heater,
4390
Doubts and fears of Christians, 145.
Dover, Robert, an extraordinary lawyer, 2445.
Dow, Lorenzo, and the thief, 94d.
Dreams, remarkable, 27, 288k.
preserving life, 3413!, m.
instrumental in conversion, 238b, 351.
Dress, 146, 337j, 1:, 4030, 0.
Drew, Mr., and anonymous letters, 264a
Drunkards, reformed, 20, 59a, 0, 79j, 1:, 350b,
3520, 411d-g, ic.
relapse of, 2b, 0, 229d.
Drunkenness, 1-5, 229-236, 340e, 4020, 4241'
Drusus and his house, 228a.
Duehng, guilt of, 940, 97b, 147.
folly of, 148.
avoided, 149.
suppressed, 150.
Duty neglected, 840, 880, 111.
Dwight, Dr., and idleness, -206d.
Dying for others, 37.
Dyonisius, the tyrant, envy of, 1630
and Pythias and Damon, 1790.
Eagle, anecdotes of the, 343d,j.
Earnestness in conversing With the rmpenitent,
107.
in prayer, 322.
Earthquake, wonderful escape from an, 3411.
Economy, 1, 8h.
Education of ministers, 151.
Religious, 152, 2862'.
Edward, the Confessor, reply of, 202g.
Sixth and the swords, 531.
Edwards, Rev. J , experience of, 250f.
Elfectual calhng, 2490.
Effort, prayer without, 326a.
Elliot, Mr., submision of, 40Qj.
Elliott and his brethren, 1750.
and his labors, 256d.
zeal of, 28612.
prayer of, for Foster, 331g.
Ellsworth, Gov., a S School teacher, 399f.
Eloquence, sacred, 153.
Elwes, the miser, 267s.
and his friends, 967)‘.
Enemies, love to—nature of, 154, 175;‘, 1760.
exhibitions of:
blessing, 155.
doing good to, 156, 176b.
praying for, 157, 175i, 176]‘, g.
examples of, among the heathen, 158.
motives for:
it often checks and reforms them, 159.
it often changes them into friends, 160.
it often leads them to beco1ne Christians,
161.
miscellaneous, 162.
Enmity to God, 132b, b,j, I, m.
Enmity subdued, 21, 92, 155- 163.
Envy, 163.
Epaminondas, not to be bribed, 197(1-
873
TOPICAL INDEX.

Epictetus and slander, 407a.
Epitaphs, 204m, 250)‘. 2560, 34lb.
Erasmus and war, 43 7d.
Eretrius and his father, 31 1
Erskine, Rev. E., and Ann Meiglo, 13a
in death, 119d.
and the murderer, 228a.
Erskine, Rev R., and the criminal, 132g
Erskine, Rev. H , deliverances of, 346e.
Erskine, Mrs , release of, from her coffin, 345j.
Eternity, 164.
Eternity of God, 185b.
Ethics, aside from the Bible, 3620, d.
Etiquette, undue regard to, 165.
Euclid, example of, 158d.
Eudamides and Venocrates, 1040.
Eugene, Prince, and war, 437k.
Evans, Rev. W., on the rock, 170g.
Evidences of Christianity, 28, 54, 56, 60, 83,
118-121, 167b, 168, 217-222, 237d, e,g,
3620, cl
Example, Christian, 3e, 166, 404b, d.
Excuses of the impenitent, 32, 1260, 127b,0, 01,
12801, d,f, g, lt,j, It, 129a, b.
Experience, Christian, efl'ect of relating, 167.
every where similar, 168.
Eyre, John, and his two W1llS, 141b.
Failures in business, 33, 3811:, 3840.
Faith, nature of, 169.
necessity of, 170.
examples of, 171, 132m, 1330, 294, 353.
triumphs of, 172, 240.
praying with, 320.
Falsehood, 366a.
F anaticism and cruelty, 298.
Fanshavve, S11‘ R., superseded, 199a.
Farre, Dr., and the Sabbath, 3790.
Father, the, love of, in sending his Son, 186b.
Fathers, unfaithful, 111d, 0, 138.
Fault-finding hearers, 193d, 0.
Faults of mimsters, 265.
Faustus and the devil, 53e.
Fear of death, overcome 118, 119, 1200.
Fears and doubts of Christians, 145.
Felix, Earl of Wurtemburg, boast of, 3160.
Females, treatment of among heathen, 275.
Fenelon and his pupil, 409g.
F idelity and boldness of mmisters, 260.
conjugal, 7.
Finley, Dr., and the agent, 40f.
Fires, &c., preservation from, 341.
F irmness, Christian, 173, 670, e, 175f, 2831 *1,
403b, cl.
Fishermen and the Sabbath, 38111, i, Fitz-Stephen and his son, 2392'.
Flattery, 174.
Flavel, Rev. J., joy of, 192a.
influence of, after death, 2240.
Fletcher, Rev. .T., gratitude of, 4oj.
and his nephew, 1i2j.
appeal of, 15312.
choice of, 258g.
Forbearance, 175, 401, 407a, b, 0, i,j.
Forgiveness of iI1_]LII'lGS, 176.
Divine, 187, 240b, 0.
Fortune-telling, 177.
Fothagill, generosity of 317b.
Fox, John, benevolence. of, 39m.
Francis II and his famishintr subjects, 365
Francke, school of, at Halls, 3320.
Franklin, Dr., and the Bible, 550.
and his paper, 228g.
proposal of, in Congress, 330d.
and war, 43 7g.
Fraud, 377, 180.
Frederic the Great and his page, 9].
and his servant, 95..
and the apostate, 26g.
and the duelist, 1500.
and the rmller, 23970.
Freedom, Christian, 2. 3b.
Frelinghuysen, a Sabbath school teacher, 399]
Fretfulness, 178, 139a
Friendship, 179.
Fuller, Rev. A., and his church, 1340.
and his sermon, 187d.
and his church rewarded, 2820.
and the passengers, 3680.
severity of, 372a.
Fun in preaching, 265g.
F urrman, Dr., and the negxss, 113d.
Galen, hymn of, 185e.
Gambling, sustained by fraud, 180.
destroys natural sensibility, 181.
leads to bankruptcy and suicide, 182.
miscellaneous, 183.
Gardiner, Colonel, enjoyment of, 86a.
preparation of, 86f.
reply of, to a challenge, 142b.
putting down profanity, 3390.
Gardiner, Bishop, end of, 31671.
Gascoign and the Prince of Wales, 2391:.
Gatimozin and the nobleman, 311a.
Gauntlet, running the, 434a.
Gayety, 30-32, 146, 337j, I0.
Generosity, 184, 36, 37, 202,203, 317a,b ti 8
Genius and intemperance, 2310.
George III and the peerage, 19a.
and the poor mechanic, 44d.
and his Bible, 68b.
and his sepulchre, 1182'.
prohibition of, 174b.
and the architect, 3392'.
Gibbon and Christianity, 835.
and death, 2220.
and his property, 223a.
Gibbs, the pirate, free from remorse, 3566
tribute of, to Sabbath schools, 392:1.
Glanville and his brother, 1840
God, existence of, 185.
dependence on, 131.
omgniscience and onmipresence of, 132b,
97.
Golding, dying words of, 1942'.
Goldsmith, Dr., and novels, 295b.
and the beggar, 49b.
and his patient, 317g.
Good for evil, 154-162, 2790.
Goodwin, Dr., death of, 119g.
Grace and mercy of God, as revealed in Team
Christ, 186.
as seen in pardoning the guilty, 187, 414i,
415a.
Grace salvation by, 256.
874
TOPICAL INDEX.

Graham, Mrs , beneficence of, 40b.
Gratitude, to God, 188, 14a, 45z',j.
to man, 189, 46.
Gregory XII and the massacre, 358a.
Gregory’s Letters and the cadet, 42012.
Gresham and the grasshopper, 3430.
Grey, Lady Jane. and the Bible, 67t.
sarcasm of, 3060.
Grimshawe, Rev. Mr , zeal of, 2600.
success of, 2630.
Grosvenor, Dr., and his bereavement, 50b.
Gustavus and the peasant girl, 91:.
and dueling, 150a.
Gutzlalf and the Chinese, 83f.
Hackett, Dr., and the soldiers, 260j.
Hadrian, death of, 3160.
Haldanes, conversion of the, 3521:.
Hale, Sir Matthew, and the poor, 380.
and his enemy, 1760.
testimony of, 232b.
and the peer, 2390.
a Sabbath-keeper, 382a.
Hall, Rev. Robert, as an agent, 17b.
and the Unitarian, 280.
bereaved, l’92j.
reproof of, to a mother, 2520;.
hrs opinion of a sermon, 2010.
first efforts of, in preaching, 264g.
hrs opinion of Mrs Edgeworth, 295d.
Halleck, his reply to a friend, 36001.
Halyburton, Rev. T., dying words of, 194g.
Hamilton, General, his view of religion, 212a.
Harnlrn, Rev. Mr., and the Armenian, 250g.
Hands, Rev. W., and the Sabbath school, 398d.
Happiness, religious, in perils and dangers, 190.
in illness, 191.
miscellaneous examples, 192.
Harris, Dr., and the soldrers, 1121:.
Harris, Dr., and the Universalist, 425d.
Harrison, President, a Sabbath school teacher,
3990.
Hatred against God, 132b, 0, d, h,j, Z, m.
Haydn and cheerful music, 289a.
Hayne, Colonel, death of, 43611.
Haynes, Rev. Mr , and the scoifers, 2611.
and the Universalist, 4240.
Hearers of the Gospel, 193.
Heart, gift of the, 8f, 409b.
hardening the, 31, 32, 115, 117.
Heathen, condition of the, 268-276.
conversion of the, 64, 277-281, 416.
love to enemies, shown by, 158.
Heaven, views and foretastes of, 194.
Hegiage and the prisoners, 4300.
Heirs and inheritances, 2451, 0.
Henderson and his opponent, 401d.
Henriot, the infidel, death of, 2220.
Henry III and the potter, 173f.
Henry the Great reproved, 112k.
Henry IV and the poor citizen, 113a
and the siege, 2020.
Henry VIII and his bufibon, 4120.
Henry, Patrick, and the Bible, 550.
Henry, Rev. Philip, prophecy of‘, 1430.
advice of, to his children, 2530.
promise of, 3246.
practice of,327c.

Henry, Rev. Philip, comiort of, 347d.
and the broken story, 4070.
Henry, Rev. Matthew, meekness of, 254d.
Heretics and the Papists, 298.
Herod, violence of, 200.
Herod the Great, end of, 3160.
Hermit of Livry, 298;’.
Herring, Rev. W., and Dr. Lamb, 1570.
Hervey, Rev. James, death of, 119f.
recantation of‘, 240a.
and the ploughman, 256f.
and the theatre, 4110.
Hervey, Mrs., death of, 119l.
Hey, Surgeon, submission of, 409f.
H111, Rev. Rowland, and the Antinomian, 230.
and his failure, 33d.
and the two converts, 26311.
and the sea-captain, 3390.
and his gardener, 3440.
and the convert’s dream, 351d.
Hindoo boys, pledge of the, 15912.
Hinton, James, and the communicant, 112p.
Hobbes and death, 2190.
Holland, Mr., death of, 119s.
Holy Ghost, sin against, 406.
Holy Spirit, the—agency in conviction and
conversion, 195, 333.
grieved, 196, 127.
Homer’s Iliad, 2250.
Honesty, examples of, 197, 33, 980, f g It
3920.
the best policy, 198, 430.
tested, 83], 1320.
Honor, the highest, 31512.
Honors, worldly, vanity of, 199, 1940.
Hooker, dying words of, 1191.‘.
Hooper at the stake, 112g.
Hope, power of, 200, 118, 119.
Hopper, Isaac, and Cain, 2420.
Horse-racing, 1800.
Hospital, the first, 83a.
Hospitahty, 201, 2790.
Hospitals, military, 433.
Howard, John, and his trials, 192g.
and family prayer, 328/1.
and the countess, 3370.
his opinion of swearers, 3380.
and the highwayrnan, 3-15k.
labors of, 441d.
Howard, Mrs, spending money of, 38g.
Howe, Rev. John, and Cromwell, 450.
long sermons and prayers of, 265f
and the magistrate, 5320.
and the nobleman, 370f.
and the profane, 37071.
Hughes, Rev. J ., and the scofi'er, 17a.
“ IIull, Father,” at a ball, 306.
Human sacrifices, 270.
Humanity, exemplified, 202, 317a, g.
rewarded, 203.
Hume against infidelity, 216?), 0.
and his mother's death, 225501.
Humility, 204
afiiected, 337g.
Huntingdon, Lady_ benefi sense 1‘
her son’s tribute to, l01(
Prince cf "Vales‘ tribute
‘Id the laborer, 1070.
18a, 6.
875
TOPICAL INDEX.

Q ~—__—--——__-——_-_ --_’_
I-Iuntingdon, Lady, and Bolingbroke, 321a.
Husbands, affectionate, 7, 241a, 0.
Has, John, death of, 1722'.
Hypocrisy, 205.
Idleness, 206.
Idolatry, folly of, 207.
Papal, 300.
of the heathen, 269.
Ignorance of the heathen, 268, 276a.
Ignorance causes infidelity, 212.
Iliad of Hon1er, 2250.
Immortality of the soul, 194d.
Importunity in prayer, 322, 3990.
Imprecations answered, 208, 252g, 2'.
In’-1pressions, early, 152b.
Impulses, 210.
Inconsistency of professed Christians, 209.
Inconsistencies of character, 117.
Indians, anecdotes of the, 7f, g, lle, 39f, 46cl,
I2, i, Z, 98f, 153a, 158g, 179e, 186d,
204b, 209a, 276d, 277e, 278d, 2840,
2850, d, e, 291e,f, 72, l, m, 293b, 298f,
, 3311:, 343f, 3640, d, 3710, 4300.
Industry, 210, 11a, 243, 258.
Infancy, discipline in, 135.
Infanticide, 272.
Infidelity, causes of:
ignorance, 212.
corruption of the heart and life, 213.
moral character and influence of,&c.,2l5.
at variance with the reason and con-
science, &.c.,
shown by their own confessions of the
moral tendency, &c., 216.
shown by their confessions in favor of
Christianity, 217, 56.
shown by their confessions in favor of the
moral character of Christ, 218.
shown by their confessions of their dis-
quietude and misery, 219.
shown by their advice, &c., 220.
shown by their conduct in danger, 221.
shown by their conduct in death,222, 22.
miscellaneous, 223, 262d.
prevented, 72e, 301.
and Universalism, 42472., 425e, 427b, 0.
and Unitarianism, 42712, 0, d.
lnfil els converted, 60, 63b, 75d, 800, 19512., 214,
223e, 287p, 328b, 333b, 348b, 350_j, 354b,
373g, 4090, 417.
Influence after death, beneficial, 224, 263
injurious, 225.
Ingenuity and wit, clerical, 261.
Ingmtitude, 226.
Innes, Rev. Mr., and the infidel, 282'.
Inquisition, 303.
Insanity, fruitful cause of, 380d.
Insolvency, 33.
Inspiration of the Bible, 54, 60a-_f,z', 237d,e, g,
362b 0, d.
Instability, 13g, 72., 2', 26, 2250, 231e.
Instlumentalitles, feeble, 227.
Integrity, 228.
lntemperance :
way to intemperance, 229.
Effects of intemperance :
slavery of appetite, 230.

Effects of intemperance :
intellectual and moral degradation, 231.
vice and crime, 232.
domestic and social wretchedness, 233.
fatal accidents, &.c., 234.
Intemperate, the, reformed, 235, 59a, 0, 79j,k,
414d-g, i, k.
Irenaeus and war, 4370.
Irish rebellion, Quakers in, 291;‘.
Irreverence in prayer, 326g.
Irritability, 178.
Ives, Rev. Dr., and the criminal, 132e
Jackson, Richard, honesty of, 198g.
J acol/’s ladder, new use for, 26112.
James the Less and the Pharisees, 157a.
James I. and the earl’s genealogy, 19f.
J anarius, St., and the horses, 3100.
J aneway, Rev. J ., and conversation, 1050.
and the judgment, 2380.
J aneway, Rev. William, death of, 1197:.
Jay, Rev. William, and his wife, 71:.
and the angel, 2610.
Jefferson and war, 43772.
J enks, Mr., death of, 1191*.
Jerome, death of, 1120.
Jewel, Bishop, recanting, 130b.
Jews, 237.
Joachim and the Waldenses, 342a.
John, first chapter of, 195a.
John, King, and his hostages, 430b.
Johnson, Dr., and the Bible, 55d.
confession of, 89a.
advice of, to a mother, 25213.
and his mother, 28771.
and profanity, 3690
Johnson, Rev. Mr., and his visit to Wetherelh
145d.
Joints, structure of the, 54b, 185d.
Jones, Sir William, and the Bible, 55a.
Joseph, emperor of Germany, and dueling,
150b.
Joy in heaven over repenting sinners, 250g.
Joy unspeakable, 192a, b.
Judaism, 237.
Judgment day, 238, 2640, 351b, 0.
Judson, Dr., sufferings of, 285b.
Judson, Mrs. Ann H., experience of, 17011.
Julian, the apostate, death of, 316b.
Julian, Pope, death of, 298g.
Julius II and St. Peters, 301a.
Justice and equity, 239.
Justification by faith, 240.
Kairnack, first Greenland convert, 186a.
Kalley, Dr., in prison, 440a.
Kapiolani’s contempt of the goddess, 173d.
Karkeet, the dying coal-miner, 119p.
Kelly and the drowning boy, 36e.
Ken, Dr., firmness of, 173k.
Kennicott, Rev. Dr., and his polyglot Bible, 67m
Kent, passengers of the, 190b.
Kentish, Rev. Mr., sudden death of, 122b.
Keys of the church, 140a.
Kilpin, Rev. S., and his church members, 1340
example of, 1750.
and the sailor, 259a.
and his theft of a penny, 3570
876
TOPICAL IN DEA.

Kilpm, and his penitent son, 3666.
Kincaid, Rev. E., at Ava, 285f.
Kindness, conjugal, 241.
power of, 242.
King, Rev. Jo11as, and his teacher, 1516.
Kircherer and the assassin, 343k.
Kneeland’s follower, 3336.
Knill, Rev. R , and his mother, 287j.
and his fellow students, 398f.
Knollys, Rev. Hanserd, deliverance of, 346d.
Knox, John, before the queen, 1122'.
reply of-, to the prisoners, 20212.
and the assassin, 34472.
Kunnuk, the avenger, 154a.
Labor, dignity of, 243.
Lacedaemonians, reasoning of, 2436.
1Ladd, Wilham, becoming a teetotaller, 36.
and his neighbor Pulsifer, 159f.
conversing with children on war, 4380.
Language, simplicity of, 259.
Languet, John B., and the dearth, 382'.
Las Basas, death of, 222e.
Las Casas, benevolence of, 49d.
Lathrop, Dr., on dress, 146e.
humility of, 204l.
Latimer going to London, 1121:.
labors of, 2582'.
and the king, 2606.
accused before Henry VIII, 2601:.
reproof from, 368a.
Laughter of scofl'ers, 375.
Lavater and the pauper, 39l.
and the prefect, 112q.
Law of God, 54a, 836, 132h,i.
Lawrence, advice of, 1576.
Lawsuits and lawyers, 244.
Leaf, lesson from a, 1850.
Learned, conversion of the, 63.
Lee, Rev. Mr., and the general, 291d.
Lee, Edward, secret of his success, 327g.
Legacies, 245.
Legare, Mrs., death of, 1191:.
Uegunia, confession of, 218a.
Leighton, Archbishop, and the liars, 2526.
meekness of, 254e.
sermon of, 2616.
Lent, Chinese views of, 2830.
Lepelletier and the merchant, 4416.
Lepers, missionaries to the 2506.
Levity in preaching, 265g.
Liberality, 36-47, 2-17a.
Licentiousuess, 246. 4146.
Links and the murderer 1540.
Linnaeus and his motto, 2970.
Litigation, 244.
Livia, advice of, to Augustus, 158i.
Livingston, Dr., and the students, 168a.
Locke, John, and the Bible, 552'.
and the card-players, 76d.
resignation of, 239f.
L00 Choo Islands, 2012'.
Losses from religion, 1880.
Lotteries, 1806, P820.
Louis IX and the kitchen boy 204e.
Louis XIV and his anecdote, l13e.
and the ambassador, 2020.
;,nd the chancellor, 2396.

Love, conjugal, 7.
filial, 8, 9.
fraternal, 10.
maternal, 11.
paternal, 12.
of God in sending his Son, 28d, 1&5‘.
to enemies, 154-162.
brotherly, 247.
to souls, 250.
to Christ, 248, 249.
of Christ, 261.
Lunatics, Pinel and the, 24211.
restored, 242a, 332d.
prayer for, 331e.
Luthe1, will of, 14d.
beneficence of, 446
discovering a Bible, 53g
prayer of, 1046.
fortitude of, 112d.
summoned to Worms, 112e.
on Pilate’s staircase, 170a.
industry of, 258a.
preaching of, 2596.
his opinion of music, 289f.
Luxury, 251.
Lyford, Rev. Mr., glorious position of, 2400.
Lying, 18f, 177b, 2080, c, 252, 366a.
Machiavel and war, 437i.
Macedo and his preserver, 2266.
M’Laren and Gustart, 256l.
Madan, Rev. Mr. conversion of, 350d.
Magnanimity, 112, 175, 176, 184, 430.
Mahommed, escape of, 35-ta.
Mahommedanism—Mahon1medans, 278;‘, 3541!,
4156.
Manton, Dr., sermon for, 2651.
Marines, punishment of, 435.
Marlborough in his dotage, 429f.
and the soldier, 4386.
Marriage, 253.
Marshall, Judge, a S. School teacher, 3990.
Marshall, Rev. S , dying, 172f.
Mart, Mr. and Mrs , and their son, 3256.
Martinel’s achievemems, 36f.
Martyn, Henry, reproof from, 371d.
Martyr, Justin, and love to enemies, 1626.
and war, 4370.
Manyrdom—martyrs, 67b, 0, 119a, 122]‘, 130a,
172i, j, 1736, e, 176d,194j,k, 2406,2790,
284a, 3156, 34lj, 403d.
Marvell. integrity of, 2286.
Mason, Dr., criticism of, 265a.
reply of, to the scoffer, 2170.
and the dying Unitarian, 335a.
Mason, Sir John, example of, 3276.
Massillon, eloquence of, 153d.
and the vicar, 1796.
and the thoughtless assembly, 261j.
Mather, Cotton, and the dying men, 132d.
ambition of, 1562'.
libels on, 1751'.
retraction of, 2046.
Maurice, Rev. Mr., and the constable, 260].
Maximianus Galerius, end of, 3160.
Maximianus Herculeus, end of, 3160.
Maximilian and Dion, 4376.
May, Rev. R , and the S. School, 3980
877
TOPICAL INDEX.
Mazarin, Cardinal, death of, 121g.
Meals, giving thanks at, 329.
Meekness, 175, 176, 25-1, 401.
Meeting-houses, debts on, 123.
Meetings for prayer, 330, 331a, d i,m.
Meetings, conference, 88.
Meikle and his patient, 3700.
Melancholy, 6b, 133b, 145.
Melancthon and his mother, 1040.
and old Adam, 132f.
experience of, 3270.
Luther’s prayer for, 3310.
punctuality of, 3551.
servant of, 4040.
Melville and his brethren, 4410.
Memnon and the soldier, 37tg.
Memory and piety, 255, 1931).
Mends, Rev. H., dream of, 2385.
Menkikoff, sketch of, 319e, 3422.
Mercy shown by God, 186, 187, 4142'.
shown by man, 176, 202, 203.
Merit of good works, 256.
Merlin preserved by a hen, 343b.
Metellus, triumph of, 2030.
Midwood, Abraham, visit to, 374g.
Militia drills, expense of, 438e.
Mlll, Rev. P., rescue of, 1100.
Millard and Louis XI, 2600.
Milne, Rev. Dr , zeal of, 2047:.
and his early closet, 327h.
Ministers, Christian—call to the ministry, 257.
industry, energy, &c., 258.
simphcity of language, 259.
fidelity and boldness, 260.
ingenuity and wit, 261.
personal intercourse, &c., 262.
success in their labors, 263.
trials of, 264.
faults of, 265, 29%.
miscellaneous, 266, 8827', 2872', 419.
education of, 151.
Miracles, papal, 305.
Mirza Mahomed Ali, 278j.
Misers, 29e, h. 41a, 267.
Misfortunes overruled for conversions, 348.
Missions-need of missions:
ignorance of the heathen, 268.
idolatry, 269.
human sacrifices, 270.
self-torture, &.c., 271.
infanticide, 272.
cruelty to parents, 273.
cannibalism, 274.
treatment of females, 275.
miscellaneous, 276.
Benefits of mimions:
temporal benefits, 98e, 277.
spiritual benefits: remarkable conversions,
&c , 278.
striking exhibitions of Christian tempers,
&c., 279.
happy deaths of converts, 280.
miscellaneous illustrations, 281.
reflex benefits, 282.
Hinderances to missions:
bad example, 800., of nominal Christians,
209d, 283.
prejudice and persecution, &.c., 284.
Missions, zeal for, 39d-it, -"86.
and S. Schools, 389b, 398.
miscellaneous, 186a, b.
Missionaries, privations and perns ox, 285I
345i.
Montesquieu at Marseilles, 9d.
Morality, reliance on, 132m, 256, 4026.
promoted, 57, 364, 414.
More, H , her view of ingratitude, 226d.
her view of ficticr. 2950.
Morrell, Rev. S., death of, 1192'.
Morrison, Dr , and the S. School, 3981).
Morton, Rev. A., dejected, 264b.
Morvilliers and Charles IX, 239g.
Mothers, pious, influence of, 287.
affectionate, 11.
unfaithful, 11lb.
Mundy. Rev, Mr., and the S. School, 398e.
Munich, Count, and Catherine II, 2280.
Munmoth and the Papist, 155a.
Murderers, misery, detection, and punishment
of, 288.
Murder, miscellaneous, 20a, e, 570, 3356, 383g.
Music, 289.
Muteham and the murdered boy, 28812
Mutius, sadness of, 163b.
Nardin, Rev. J ., and his enemies, 1561).
Navigator Islands, change in, 28112.
N eff, Rev. F ehx. mistake of, 262e.
Neglect of the Bible, 70.
Negroes, anecdotes of, 9m, 11d, 14a, 28d, 37b.
39b, c,e, 46f,j, 54e, 71, 66h, 100b, 1010
157e,f,g, 173g, 179d, 1820, 18901, 195f
201a, 26371, 285q, 286a, b,f, Z, 336a
350b, 392b.
Nelson, Dr., and the conversion of infidels, 214a.
Neptune, loss of the, 2340.
Nero, death of, 3160.
effect of power on, 31812.
Nettleton, Dr., and the unfaithful minister, 26611.
Newton, Sir Isaac, and Dr. Halley, 2125).
and his dog, 4010.
in his dotage, 429f.
Newton, Rev. John, reproof from, 140.
his advice to an author, 1040.
his remark to his daughter, 1222'
saying of, 131
his rule for dress, 1461;.
and Mr. Occam, 168b.
and his view of heaven, 1946.
his soliloquy, 204a.
mother of, 224b.
singular memory of, 25511, 0.
his unwillingness to stop preaching, 258,.°
habit of, 347b.
and the origin of sin, 405]’.
Nobility, 290.
Non-resistance, safety and other benefits of :
prevents and disarms aggression, 291.
effects the reformation of aggressors, 295.
transforms aggressors into friends, 293.
and trust in God, 294.
miscellaneous, 175a, 0-g,j, 176, 2840.
Nott, Rev. Mr \nd the South Sea Islands:
t8_6b.
NOVwlS, 295
878
TOPIC AL INDEX.
Uaths, false, 314.
Obedience to parents, 296.
Oberlin, method of, with beggars, 35b.
practice of, 40a.
in the French Revolution, 468.
and the conspirators, 29211.
Oglethorpe, Gen., and his servant, 1760.
Olds, Rev. 1., sudden death of, 12212.
Umission, sins of, 4050.
Omnipresence and omniscience of God, 132b,
297.
Ongen and his enemies 1620.
and war, 4370.
Ostentation ln prayer, 326d.
Ousley, Rev. Mr., zeal of, 258p.
Ovid and theatres, 411i.
Owen on forgiveness, 13f.
fixenstein and the Bible, 5571.
Paine, Thomas, and the Bible,54g.
and Christianity, 2180.
advice of, to a traveler, 2206.
last days of, 222f.
the elder’s visit to, 222g.
confession of, to Mr. Randall, 22272.
and his Age of Reason, 225d.
and his perplexity, 3620.
Palmer, Rev. H., and the governor’s appeal,
286u.
Panther and the buffaloes, escape from, 3434'.
Papacy—fanaticism and cruelty, 298, 31601, 0, h.
hostihty to the Bible, 536, h, 299.
idolatry, 300.
indulgencies, 301.
confession and absolution, 302.
inquisition, 303.
praying to and for the dead, 304.
miracles, 305.
transubstantiation, 306.
purgatory, 307.
relics, 308.
moral tendency, 309.
miscellaneous, 53f-2', 2256, 310.
papists converted, 61, 79i.
Parents, affection for, 8, 9, 143d.
disobedience to, 143.
Paibeelt, Sarah, patience of, 31112.
Park, Mungo, and the negress 201a.
Parkhurstfs generosity, 1841;.
Parmenides and Plato, 27b.
Pascal, saying of, 1927:.
Patience, 311.
Patriotism, 40, 312.
Paul and Plato, 2270.
payson, Dr., dying words of, 119u.
happy in trials, 170f.
love of, for preaching, 258k.
and the lawyer, 2620.
Peace, 2770, 291-294, 4382'.
Peace-makers, 313, 389k.
Peden, Alexander, prayer of, 33171.
Pedro, Don, confession of, 2980.
Penn, pacific policy of, 2911.
punctuality of, 3550.
Perjury, 314
Persecution, 84b, d-f, 315, 349, 41 6.
Persecution overruled, 349, 440.
Persecutors, end of, 316.
vs '
Persecutors and enemies, preservation from, 34.2,
3445, e, g, 34511, e,j_, Ir, 346b, 3536.
Pericles and the railer, 158a.
Perils and dangers, happiness in, 190.
Perseverance, 792', 2350, 4140, 428f.
in prayer, 323, 3300-0, 333f.
‘) Peter, Bishop, firmness of, 1120.
Peter the Great and the clergyman, 2106.
industry of, 2430.
and Menzikoff, 3420.
confession of, 401a.
and slander, 4.-07/L.
Peterborough and F enelon, 1661).
Philip of Macedon wrestling, 18a.
and the Argive, 160a.
and the ambassadors, 176a.
and the poor woman, 2519!.
and the Athenian orators, 407j.
Philip, Rev. Dr , zeal of, 2868.
and the S. School, 398g.
Philip, Bishop of Heraclea, boldness of, 112a.
Philip III of Spain, his lament, 121a.
Phocion’s dying counsel, 1587‘.
Physicians, 4712, 0, 110b, 185(Z, e, 242f, 317
3740, f, 3850.
Pillsbury and the giant prisoner, 242d.
Pitt, the orator, death of, 42%.
Pittacus, law of, 23601.
Pius V, dying words of, 3100.
Plato and Parmenides, 27b.
and Paul, 227a.
and slander, 407 a.
and the theatre, 41 1
Pliny, double character of, 1170
Policy, worldly, 26g.
Polycarp, death of, 119a.
Polygamy, 275a.
Pomphret, Rev. .1 ., and the robber, 2920,
Posthumous influence, 224, 2290.
Powell, Rev. V., and the oflicer, 159k.
and the game of football, 348a.
Power, arbitrary, corrupting influence of, 318.
vanity of, 319.
Prayer—-Nature of prayer: Scriptural prayer;
praying with faith, 320.
praying with submission, 321.
praying with importunity, &c , 322.
praying with constancy, &c., 173g, 323.
miscellaneous, 324.
Unscriptural prayer:
praying without submission, 325.
various examples, 101d, 2760, 304, 326.
Occasions of prayer:
secret prayer, 7901, 327.
family player, 7912, e, 328.
giving thanks at meals, 329.
social and public prayer, 279g, Z, 330.
Prayer answered :
by God’s providential control of material
and animal agencies, 331, 346d, 349g.
by God’s providential control of men’s
minds, 332.
by the agency of the Holy Spirit in con-
versions, 333.
by the agency, &c , in revivals, 224d, 334.
mrious examples of the power of, 157:
1620, 193e, 217a, 287k, 335, 3440.
miscellaneous facts respecting, 336.
879
TOPICAL INDEX.

—-
’-—--
Prayer, inability to offer, 70d,f.
and family discipline, 136.
and education, 1520.
awful, answered, 1960, 208.
the Lord’s, 286d, 3250, 414k.
to and for the dead, 304.
and the theatre, 411d, 1".
and tobacco, 412b, d
and rumselling, 423f.
Preparation for the pulpit, 258h, Z.
Pride, 337.
P1‘1\8.lIlODS and perils of missionaries, 285.
Prize-fighter converted, 175g.
Procrastination, 125-128, 367.
Profanity, sinful, 338.
rebuked, suppressed, abandoned, 79a, 86d,
339, 368f, 4140.
punishment of, 73, 340.
Profligate, conversion of the, 590.
Providence—in preserving life by the control of
material and animal agencies:
Preserving from fires, &c , 341.
from persecutors, 620., 342.
from animals or by means of them, 343.
Preserving life by the control of mind:
overruling involuntary affections, &c., 344.
overruling voluntary acts, &c., 345.
In bestowing various blessings:
overruling benevolence, 3320-0, 346.
overruling various acts, &c., 347.
In conversions:
overruling misfortunes, &c., 348.
overruling persecution, 349.
overruling various forms of wickedness,
350, 41903.
overruling dreams, &.c., 351.
overrulmg various feelings, &c , 352.
Providence, trust in 353.
Prynne and the theatre, 41112.
Publican, prayer of the, 32412.
Pummehannit, prayer of, 331k.
Punctuality, 353, 439b.
Punishment of the wicked not in this life:
because their remorse is not commensurate
with their guilt, 356.
because conscience is not troublesome when
often violated, 357.
because they delight in wickedness, 358.
because they often die in the very act of
sin, 73, 340d, 0, 359.
Punishment, future, 360
Purgatory, 307.
Pye and the inquis1tors 303b.
Pyrrhus and the philosopher, 18b.
Pythias and Damon, 1790.
Quarrels, 200-e, 361 _
Quintus and his son, 8b.
Raban, Rev T., escape of, 3410.
Rabbi, reason of, for weeping, 120a.
Raffies, Lady, and her nurse, 520.
Rain, prayer for, 3310.
withheld in answer to prayer, 331d.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, and war, 4370.
Randolph, John, and his mother, 2871:.
dying remorse of, 365f.
Raitea great change in, 277g.
Raritonga, great change in, 281d.
Raymond and the traveler, 291a.
Ravencross and his slave, 1610.
Reader, Rev. T., and secret prayer, 79d.
and the child, 109d.
Reason, insufl-ieiency of, 362.
and conscience against infidelity, 216-2L2
Reason, Goddess of, her last days, 223d.
Rechabites, 4b.
Recognition of friends in heaven, 2480.
Reconciliation to God, 363.
Rees, Rev. .1 ., in death, 1720.
Reflex influence of benevolence, 45-47, 1236,
282.
Reformation of ineznates, 235.
Regeneration, 195.
Rejection of the Bible, 70.
Relics, papal, 304d, 3050, 308.
Religion, reforming power of, 57, 59, 364, 330
414.
Remorse, 876, 94-97, 288a,o,r, 365.
Renwick, joy of, 1947'.
Reparation of injuries, 95, 373.
Repentance, 177b, 366, 373.
on death-beds, 367.
Reproof of sin—faithfulness and firmness, &c..
791', 368.
proper spirit, &c., 797:, 369.
skill and prudence, <&.c , la, 52, 329b, 370.
happy effects, &c., 371.
miscellaneous, 372.
Restitution, 95, 279b, 373.
Restorationist, Dr. N ott and a, 360b.
Retraction of error, 89-93, 204b.
Revelation needed, 362.
Revenge, 2022.
Revivals, interesting, 75, 107b, 195k, p, 282:,
2870, 3300-0, 334, 394.
Reynolds and the orphan, 2040.
Riches, 290, 120, g, h,j, 121a, d, g, 222a, 374
Richmond, Rev. Legh, and his mother, 50a.
and his son, 58f.
forbearance of, 175b.
and Satanic agency, 400b.
Riddle’s dying testimony, 1700.
Ridicule, 375.
Ritchie and the profane swearer, 2600.
Rivet, Rev. Mr., patience of, 3110.
Robbers-—robbery, 43c,d, 980, 376.
Robespierre, death of, 222e.
Rod, use of the, 135-139.
Rochester, Lord, and Isaiah liii, 60¢.
morals of, 21501.
confession of, 23 7g.
Romaine, Rev. W , and card-playing, 76b.
admonition from, 760.
sermon of, 259f.
reproof from, 338d.
Romans, chapter first, 540.
Rose, James, the Christian in hell, 133b.
Rousseau, confession of, 218b.
and theatres, 411j.
Ruggles’ escape from savages, 343g.
Rule, the golden, 377.
Rum-sellers and rum-selling, 421-423.
Rush, Dr., and theatres, 411k.
Ryland, Rev. J., and the innkeeper’s ism ly
328f.
880
TOPICAL IN DEX.

,-p
Saba, misery of, 3650.
Sabbath, the Christian, benefits of :
physical benefits to domestic animals, 378.
physical benefits to man, 379.
intellectual benefits, 380.
providential benefits, 381.
examples of the conscientious observance
of the, &c., 382, 27901, 317h.
Sabbath-breaking, evils of: vice and crime,383.
various evils, 384.
unnecessary, 385.
Sabbath-breakers reproved, 386.
Sabbath schools, various salutary influences of:
in promoting religious knowledge, &c.,
387.
in promoting attendance on worship, 388.
in promoting benevolence and other vir-
tues, 389.
in reforming neighborhoods, 390.
in counteracting and removing infidelity,
391.
in preventing and removing vice and
crime, 392.
Religious influences of, on pupils:
conversions, 393.
revivals, 394.
happy deaths, 395.
Benefits of, to parents and others:
moral benefits 396.
religious benefits, 397.
cor::.ect.on of, with the ministry and mis-
sions, 398.
miscellaneous, 399.
Sacrifices, human, 270.
Sailors, anecdotes of, 440 510, 58, 67f, 73k,
79k, 1610 169* .‘.1:L ., 327j, 339f, 3450,
353d, 3090, 381f,j, 393j, k, 4180.
St. Just, the infidel, death of, 2220.
Salmasius, dying words of, 700.
Salter’s benevolence, 3170.
Satan, agency of, 400.
Saunders, David, and his Bible, 66b, 69b.
contentment of, 103f.
Saxe, Marshal, and the soldier, 4380.
Schiller, his title of nobility. 2900.
Schmidt, Rev. Mr., and the Jew, 373b.
Schoolmen, prayers of the, 256i.
Scofi'ers—- scoffing, 17a, 73 208, 350i.
Scotch, religious education of the, 152d.
Scott, Rev. J , and his sword, 1490.
Scott, Rev. Thomas, and cards, 760.
death of, 119q.
his love for souls, 4081;.
Scriptures, the Holy, 53-72.
Searching the Scriptures, 68.
Sieges, 432.
Selden, comfort of, 280.
Self-control, 401.
Self-deception, 402
Self-denial, 403, 258q, 39772. -
Selfishness in prayer, 3260
Self-righteousness, 256.
Self-torture and self-murder, 271.
Seneca and ’war, 4370.
Sensibility injured or destroyed, 31, 181.
Sermon on the Mount, 5470, 830.
Servants, 370, d, 236m, 3680, 370p, 404.
Serverus, death of, 3160.
dying words of, 4290.
Sewall, Judge, and the shoe-brushes, 282a-
Shakers and the Indians, 291h.
Shephard and preparation to preach, 25bI¢
Short, Luke, the centennarian convert, 224a.
Sidney, Sir P., and the soldier, 440.
Sigismund and his enemies, 1600.
Simplicity of language, 259.
Simpson, Dr., venturing on Christ, 172d.
Sin, 405.
Sin against the Holy Ghost, 406
Siva and her temple, 2810.
Skelton, Rev. P., and his books, 392'.
Skill and prudence with the impenitent, 108.
Slander, 407..
Slavery--slaves, 9m, 11d, 0, 14f, 49a, 1010,
1560?, 15812, 16101. '*, 1760, 1820,318d--
f, 33212, 3397:.
Slavery of appetite, 2, 230, 2460, 412d, 0, g.
Smuggling, 98a.
Smollet and the beggar, 198f.
Socrates, reply of, to Alcibiades, 12b.
to Archelaus, 228g.
rebuke of, to Alcrbiades, 337f.
and Chericles, 2390.
self-control of, 40 1 f.
Soldiers, anecdotes of, 62, 66d, 7301, 327j, 3640,
3932', 434.
Sons, affectionate, 8a—e, h.
unnatural, 16a, 0.
Soul, value of, 408, 290, l, 32b, 2780, 352f.
South Sea Islands, former state of, 270b, 2726
0, 2730, 274b.
improved state of, 277f.
Southey, Robert, and the black boy, 156:.
Spider, Du Moulin and the, 3-130.
Spencer, Rev. Mr.. beneficence of, 47s, t.
Spira, death-bed of, 26d.
Spring, Dr., welcome visit of, 2620.
St:-1ughton’s eloquence, 1530.
Staupicius, confession of, 1720.
Stephen, King, and toleration, 413b.
Stennett and his enemies, 3140.
Stilling, incidents in the life of, 3530.
Story, the honest rebel, 4300
Straiton’s prayer answered, 1300.
Struense, confesion of, 2120.
Students, 175j, 210d, 333m, 3480.
Stuart, Dr., and the Southron, 2-13f.
Sturtevant, Lydia, death of, 1270.
Submission to God’s W111, 409.
praying with, 320.
want of, 325. 410.
Success in the ministry, 263.
Suicide of an actor, 6d.
of an apostate, 260.
and remorse, 87b.
and gambling, 182d, 0,
manuscript of a, 217b.
of a drunkard’s child, 2330.
of a libertine, 2460.
among the Hindoos, 2710.
and Universalism. 42-ie,f, i, k.
prevented, 46p, 187b, e 3-15¢], 350/2, 41$
Swartz, Rev. C. F., at Tanjore, 277d.
Swearers’ prayers answered, 208.
56
881
'1 OPICAL INDEX.
Swift, Dean, and the apologist, 250.
and the printer, 1-46g.
Swinging on hooks, 27lb.
Tacitus and idolatry, 268s.
and theatres, 411h.
Tahitians, ancient, 2766.
Taggart, J , oath of, 3141).
Tedyuscung and the golden rule, 377b.
his censure of white men, 1321:.
Temperance, 1-5, 335.
Temples, heathen, overthrown, 28112, 0.
Tuunent, Wm , happiness of, 1920.
and his harvest-day, 264d.
and the dumb sermon, 352d.
Tenterden’s retort, 19b.
Tetzel at Leipsic, 3010.
Thanks at meals, 329.
Thanksgiving-day, origin of, 188d.
Thatcher, Judge, and the challenge, 1498.
Theatres, 411.
Theft-thieves, 2780, 2795, 357a, b.
Themistocles, pi eject of, 2395.
advice of, 253g.
Theodosius, character of, 117b.
Thornton and the poor clergyman, 42a.
Thorpe, Rev. VV., and nis mother, 192e.
Thorp, Mrs , and the Sabbath, 38101.
Tiger and crocodile, Tigranes conquered, 3370.
Tiberius II and his treasure, 47a.
Tide, delay of the, 331m.
Timoleon and his brother, 10a.
Tindal and his Bible, 532'.
Tillotson and his father, 8g.
Titus in Rome—in Judea, 117e.
Tobacco, 412.
Todd, Rev. J., conveision of, 263j.
Todd, L. C., and Umversalism, 424d.
Toleration, 413.
Tommy becoming idiotic, 33772.
Tracts, religious-—happy effects of:
morality pioinoted, 414.
suicide prevented. 415.
conversion of heathen, 416.
conversion of infidels, 417.
converts distinguished for usefulness, 418.
converts becoming ministeis, 419.
revivals and numerous conveisions, 420.
T rafiic in ardent spirits, 1IIJUI'1OUS to customers,
the , 421.
injurious to traffickers, &.c , 422
immoral, &c., 423.
Frajan, inconsistencies of, 117a.
Transubstantiation, 306.
Trials of Christians, 13, 14, 50, 190-192, 315a,
342.
f ministers, 264
Trust in God, 90, 294, 353.
Truth, telling the, 430.
Trowt, Rev. Mr . ti ial of, 264f.
Tuahine’s conversion, 2780.
T wiss, Dr., advice of, 2441)
Underhill and his persecutor, 25001.
Unkindness, 160, b, 0, 115-117, 139a.
Unbelir-f, causes of, 212, 213.
the way to remove, 214.
_ —_
Unbelievers, Christians ma rying, 2535--f.
Unitarianism, 427, 810, b, 0, 3350, 4190.
Universalism, moral tendei ey of, 424, 4276, 0,4.
absurdity and folly of, 425.
death of Universalists, 426.
miscellaneous, 742', 75f, 209d, 360.
Uprightness, 98, 112, 173, 228, 239.
Usefulness, Christian, 428, 37-44, 71, 106-1
110, 142, 151, 224, 286, 317, 418, 420a
441d.
Usher, Archbishop, and the king, 2600.
and the 11th cominaiitment, 2610.
Vagrants, 35.
Vandille, the miser, 2670.
Vanity of ambition, 18.
and beauty, 1740.
of worldly honors, 199.
of riches, 374.
of the world, 429.
Venn, Rev. Mr., and the waiter, 74a.
death of, 1190.
and the Socinian, 256n.
visit of, to Midwood, 374g.
Ventadour, Duchess of, her benevolence, 38:
Veracity, 430, 139b.
Vince, Professor, and dueling, 149a.
Vincent in the plague, 341a.
Virtue embodied, 132l.
Vitellius. death of, 120;’.
Volney in a storm, 221b.
Voltaire a liar, 215d.
confession of, 216d.
melancholy views of, 2190.
last hours of, 2220.
press of, at F erney, 223a.
prophecy of, 22311.
Waddel, Dr., “ The Blind Preacher,” 153m.
Waldenses and the wheat, 341a.
and Joachim, 342a.
Waldo, Peter, becoming a preacher, 352g.
Walker, Dr., humanity of, 3170.
Walker, Rev. S., and the rector, 260m.
Wall, Dr., injuries of, 1750.
Walworth, Chancelor, a Sabbath school teacher
399f.
War—-battles and battle-fields, 431.
sieges, 432.
niilitary hospitals, 433.
punishment of soldiers, 434.
punishment of marines, 435.
war and the domestic ties, 436.
testimonies against war, 437.
miscellaneous, 438, 277a, 0, 291 f-—m,
294b, 0, (Z.
Washington and the tetotaller, 4a.
filial love of, 9p.
and his debtor, 43b
confession of, to Mr. Payne, 8912.
and his fiiends, 312d.
and profanity, 339j.
narrow escape of, 3450.
punctuality of, 355f.
and the Sabbath, 382b.
and the. Revolution, 436f.
Washiiggétgn, Judge, a Sabbath school teacher
a.
882
TOPICAL INDEX.


Watchfulness, need of, 25211.
Watts, Dr., at death, 1187'.
and the promises, 17212.
and the long visit, 1790.
~Waugh, Dr., reproofs from, 370122
and slanderers, 40701
\Vesley, Rev. J., and the preacher, 3f.
and his plate, 391:.
and his hkeness, 43a.
his way to preserve churches, 1010.
dying words of, 119b.
and his siste1’s retort, 132;‘.
and the robber. 1860.
Whitefield’s opinion of, 247g.
labors of, 258m.
simplicity of, 2590.
and his missionary zeal, 286z.
escape of, from fire, 34111.
and the scoffer, 3500.
and Madan, 35001.
and the officer, 380e.
happy reproof from, 3700.
Wealth, vanity of, 290, 112a, <1, g, 120g, 1t,j.
Welles, Rev. S., confidence of, in God, 353g.
West and Lyttleton converted, 2140.
Wharton, character of, 2 15(1.
Whately, tithing and thriving, 470.
Whitefield, Rev. G., and the churl, 471.
.2211.
an estate, 1420.
0e of, 153b, g-1.
of, 1870.
the village cursed, 2250.
mid Wesley, 247g.
and Rev. W. Tennent,258tL
and his sermons, 258:2.
and his voyage, 2580.
and Grimshawe, 2600.
and pointed preaching, 260d.
and the execution, 261d.
and elections, 261g.
and the opposer, 261p.
praying for his brother, 3231:.
persecntors of, 349b.
persecuted at Plymouth, 3490.
and the trumpeter, 349a.
and the fiddler, 349f.
and the it >fl'er, 3500.

Wickliffe’s moral courage, 112f.
Wilberforce, conversion of, 630
and the Sabbath, 380a.
Will of God, submission to, 409.
William the Conqueror going to judgment, 438g
Williams, Admiral, and the will, 2450.
Wilhams, Rev. Mr , and his translation, 53m.
Wilkes, Rev. Matthew, and the American min
ister, 258e.
and his colleague, 28f.
Wilmot, Sir E., humility of, 204g.
Wilson, Dr., and the clergyman, 420.
and the Sabbath, 3801).
Wilson, Rev. W., and the soldier, 1330.
Wilson, Margaret, the martyr, 172}.
‘Win, William, reformed, 235e.
Wishart and the forgery, 344g.
and the psalm, 3451:
1/Vit and ingenuity, 20, 19b, 0, f, 25a, 48d, 54b
76b, d,e, 81b, 0, 83], 1181:, 124, 132j,1
141d, 2041, 2170, 261, 299f, 338b-ti
339g, 370, 386b, 0, 400, 401d,f.
Wives, affectionate, 7b, 01, e, g, 12, 241b, d,e, 254b
Wolf, Rev. J ., and the Rechabites, 4b.
Wolsey, dying regrets of, 121d.
Works, salvation by, 256.
World, vanity of, 120g,1z,j, 121d, 319, 37411
429.
Worship, public, 388, 439.
family, 330.
Wotton, experience of, 199b.
Wrath of man praising God, 349, 350, 440.
Wren and his workmen, 3391:.
Wright, Dr., practice of, 40d.
Wright, H. G., and his assailant, 2921;.
Xantippe and Socrates, 40 1
Xavier, example of, 21d.
Xerxes and the Hellespont, 381a.
crowning and beheading his footmen, 42911.
Ximenes and Adrian, 4070.
Young. Dr., dying words of, 54d.
Young, Rev. R. and the planter, 2781.
Zeal in doing good, 71. 258, 286, 441
Zinzendorf, escape of, 285d.
883
SCRIPTURAI. INDEX.
' In this Index, the correspondence between texts and anecdotes, though mostly obvious and direct, 'a not tcailorrnly
I0. Sometimes on .y a single clause of the text is illustrated by the anecdote; and somet‘ mes the text refers 241] to a
single paragraph or sentiment of the anecdote and what is merely incidental to the princ’pa| subject. S0rnet'~_m¢s the
text points to an inference to be drawn from the anecdote, or the anecdote to an inference to be drawn from the text.
Occasionally the passage of Scripture is illustrated in the way of contrast by the fact referred to, and sometim s they
are here Joined together, simply because the former is quoted or mentioned in the latter.
The FIGURES in the right hand columns are the numbers used throughout the work to designate the various sub-
jects, which will readily be found by looking for similar figures at the top of the foregoing pages. When LETTERS
are joined to the figures, the reader is cited to particular anecdotes under these figures,—anecdotes which are marked
by the same letters where they stand in the work.
ssesseewwsss-2
GENESIS.
finecdotes.
24
378-385
253a
7c, 1'
4052
71), g
20, 163
288
1050
500
321), 33b, 1210, e, f, 196
4 1-437

.17
.2122‘)
EXODUS.
flnecdotes.
86b
346
54c, 215
53i
95-97, 276d, 365
l19n
226
53i
1340, 239
54
8.
200,300
211
132i
73,326g,338—340
278l,279d
"8-ass
. 1
206d, 210, 243 '
3'/8
eg,9d-h,rea.c,143
6a-d,147,288,421-423
c)
7~d
59b,2?8e,279b
252 314
29a,122fi 1323,1450
207,209,300
373
207,209.300
154c,156
228b,d,g,239c,244i
207,200,300
2
2 .
207, 269, 30'.‘ ‘

LEVITICUS.—Continued.
'0. flnecdotes.
12 73. 338-340
13 376
14 283
16 407d, e, k
17 la, 112k, $39 35%
368-371, 386
30 317b, 378-385
32 16
10-16 340
. 35 44b
1 207, 269, 300
17, 36
NUMBERS.
. 1 178
. 2 331
28, 29 163
2 163
18 187
15 228, 239
32, 33 '
. 10 119, 2500, 280
23 288
DEUTERONOMY
16 1340, 239
30, 31 ]3d, 187
35, 39 185a
7 207, 300
11 '73
14 378-385
17 288
20 314
4 185a
5 100
6-9 3a. 139d, 197j, 224b, ‘B7
351a, 387-399, 438:
18 377
3, 4 " 11-1‘
19 201 269, 300
12
13 100
18 1'8, 69
18-21 56b, 72 , 139d, l97j
298, 303
115, 117 43 -437
2372
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141, 252
180-182
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088 618 118 918 91 1
"rant/we 8
'621 '1 “i891
‘@121 ‘E '9 ‘B921 ‘221 18 '98
988 18 ‘11-2 '28
~ , _ ‘ 968 11 I125
891 821 921 121 01 178
988 81 ‘2 '28
881 ‘081 2 '08
291 8 '81
/.68 L '91
98 11 '21
681 '91 9 '21
001 18 ‘08 '81
‘122 81 '81
, ‘G628, 888 11 '81
212 o628 11'? 2888 2 '81
282 88 '18 '8
I , ,g_ ,812 81-11 '8
.1716 0628 P 9888 2 8
2121 ‘I98 81 'L
001 '82 81 '2
9666 21 '2
w ‘l '8 ‘°8L 28 '8
921 L8 '1
998 28 '1
8L1 9 '1
"IEIIIIAIVS 1
, 82 L1 1 '8
222 LP '92 81 ‘11 '8
118 L1 '91 '1
‘ ,98 21 '1
3 P 2L 8 '1
112 9 '1
'HLflH
002 ‘618fL08 1>1‘21 '01
998 961 21 '9
18288 28 '2
'sae(1m'
‘ 882 21 '18
9 P 3232 21 '11 '18
86:06 61 '1
69 89 8 '1
'vn11sor
, , 662-182 ‘@122
L88 ‘H766 [L61 'P62t 91 '82
9281 62 '82
088-916 12 '82
‘.1 282 68 '82
3 8' 121 81 '82
°Z5L[‘ 0L112‘21‘1 82
°98 21 '81 '12
, ‘001 08 '02
002 698 L08 81 ‘L1 02
9 '02
662182 ‘668 ‘$61. "192 68 '68
, ‘122 29 '29 '88
3 0 9128 99-89
, , 89-8218 '88
002 698 1.08 21 '88
211 '0 ‘s91 91 '18
002 ‘698 21 L8
001 91 '98
122 L '98
112 18-91 '61
, LL1 11 '01 '81
69 89 ‘22 61 11
top H: t I W116 828 -> P 9888 61 91
011 01 '91
9-1101 11 '21
.f‘11‘1>w 11 '01 '21
001 2 '21
202 2—1 21
017 9 '81
's0;10p0au5/' '02 '11,’)
'P9“ulW°O"'AWONC HEIJJIEICI
_fl___\ '-

988
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.

‘-
PSALMS.-—C0ntinued. PSALMS —Continued. PSALMS.-Cqntinn-J.
Ch 0. Anecdotes. Ch. 0 Anecdotes. C77 '6 ./Znecdotbs.
I0. 17 204, 247g 39. 9 409 89 29 2290
12. 3, 4 3370, 11, 1 39. 11 34b 90 2 1851)
14. 1 540, 1673., 215 40. 1 321 99. 12 118
14. 5 94, 221 40. 2 18g, 170g. 1720 91. 1 5311
14 6 1310 40 4 5311. 294, 353 91. 1-10 2901, 294, 353
16 6 10311, e, f 40 16 1071' 91. 2, 9 1310
16. 11 1923, 1), 194g—1 41. 2 45 91. 15 50a, 33], 332, 41241
17. 7 5311, 294, 353 42. 5 131), 1, 200 92. 12 . 79-381
.17. 14 291 42. 5, 11 1331) 93. 2 1851)
17. 15 118, 1190 42. 5, 6, 11, 14-5b 94. 5--'~ 215
18. 6 331, 332, 423f 42. 9 170g, 1720 94. 8 17a.
18. 16 508. 43. 3 71, 7'21) 94. 9 297
18. 25 203 43. '4 1923., b. 194j—1 94. 12 13. 66f, g, 800. 176‘
18. 27 18b, 0, f, 3376, 11,1 43. 5 13b, 133b 94. 22 1316, 170g, 1720
19 1-3 24 44. 21 297 95. 1 170g, 172
19. 7 5411, i, j, 56, 61-65, 362 45. 3, 6 81 95. 2 188, 19211
19. 8 14g, 72a 45. 6 1643. 95. 8 126
19. 10 66, 67 46. 1 1310 98- 1 80e,281b—e
22. 4, 5 1318., 1), 0 46 1-3,7,10, 100. 3 1850, e
22. 18 180-182 11 190, 191, 1920-111, 194j, k 11111. 4 80s
22. 22 1930 48. 14 16421 100. 4, 5 188, 1920
22. 24 13g, 11 49. 6-8 294, 256b, 301, 302 100. 5 166, 187
23. 4 118, 119, 2009, 280 49. 10 296 101. 5 18f. 407d, e, 1
25. 2 1318., b, 294, 353 49. 10,1214 1811 102. 27 185b
25 6 186, 187 49. 12 1946 102. 28 2241)
25. 7 125 49. 14 341) 103. 8 15
25. 9 254 50. 13, 14 100 103. 8-10 187
25. 13 2296 50. 14 188, 192d 103. 15, 16 18a, 1223, 1)
26. s 1930, 279,4, 439 50. 15 50a, 1980, 3309, b, 331. 103. 7 2296
26. 10 228b, d-g, 2390, 2441 412d 103. 17. 18 135-137, 2241)
27. 3 190, 94j, k 50. 17 212, 213 106. 3-5 1870
27. 4 1930, 279g. 439 50. 21 27611 106. 15 325, 410
27. 5 170g, 1720 51. 1 204m 106. 23 331
27. 10 3311 51. 3 90-93, 373 106. 37, 38 270
27. 12 314 51. 3, 14 1473. 107. 8, 1, 31 18"‘, 192d
28. 1 170g, 1720 51. 10 162a. 107. 32 860, 1930
23. 8 1221 51. 12 192a,b,194g—1 109. 5 226
31. 1 131a, 11,11,294, 353 53. 1 1674, 213 111. 1 2495, b, C, j
31. 2, 3 170g, 1720 53. 5 870, 94 112. 2, 4 198
31. 5 1180, 119, 2500 55. 22 501) 112. 4 375-381
31. 7 13g, h, 190, 191, 1920-13, 55. 23 20851, c, 252 b, 1‘, g, i 112. 7, 8 93
1-94j, k 57. 1 1310 115. 4-8 207, 269, 2811), 0, 31.‘
31. 17, 18 4&1 58. 4 31 115. 9-11 294, 353
31. 19 261 58. 4, 5 212 116. 1 188, 192d
31. 19, 20 294, 353 58. 11 45, 379-381, 383, 384 116. 17 183, 192d ,
32. 5 90 59. 7 215 118. 5 508 331, 332, 4120
32. 10 5311, 294, 353 59. 12 73,141,208a, 0, ~52b,f,g,i 118. 8 29-1, 353
32. 11 107f,192 59. 16 1310 119. 1, 2 14¢
33. 1 1071', 192 62. 2, 6, 7 170g, 1720 119. 2, 10, 34 100
34 1 13, 14 62. 8 94, 353 119. 9 54g, 11
34 4, 15,1750a 62. 9 319 119 62 327
34. 4, 17, 19 1453. 62. 10 3743 119. 67,7l,7513, 14, 51, 80c
34. , 6, 10, 65. 2 3306., 1), 331-334 119 67,71,97 66f. g
15, 17 331, 332, 4120 65. 4 845, 279g 119. 66,69,145 100
34. 13, 14 252 66. 9 341-345 119. 72 66. 67
34. 14 313 66. 16 1678. 119. 93 5111-k, 57-65
34. 16, 21 141 66. 19, 20 509, 3303., b, 334, 412d 119. 97-113 55.66, 67
34. 18 1331) 68. 3 107f 119. 105 5-11‘, 72d
34. 2 4d, 132d, h, m 69. 12 43 .119. 119, 127 55. 67, 68, 69
34. 22 9j, 5311, 294, 353 69. 30 188, 192d 119. 121 228, 239, 24-11
35. 11 314 71. 1 1313 119. 130 362
35. 13, 14 154, 158, 162 71. 3 170g, 1720 119. 136 250
35. 18 869, 188, 1921.1, 1930 71. 7 1310 119- 159, 163,
36. 2 18or 73. 9-11 215 167 53, 67, 68, 69
36. 4 186-182 73. 24 2500 119 165 5311
36. 5, 6 341-345, 353 73. 25 2481), 374i 122. 1 800, 3888., 1)
37. 1 186, e 74. 10, 11 73 122. 6-8 312
37. 1, 7, 8 178, 311 74. 20 83b, 115, 116, 268, 270- 129. 5 1320, h, m
37. 3 9i, 53-11, 47, 294, 346, 275, 431-437 130. 3 256
353, 379-381, 428, 441 76. 7 1203 130. 4 131‘
37. 4 107f 76. 8. 9 254 133 1, 2 10. 247
37. 7 321 76. 10 84b, (1, e, 1‘, 532, 237d, e, 134. 4,17,19145<1
37 10,12-15, 349, 440 137. 1, 6 312
34 77 19 138. 6 204. 3370, 11, i
37 8 2 78. 34 800 138. 7 190, 1920-111, 194 . k
37. 12-16 316 78. 34, 35 130, d, 348 139. 1-12 77. 132b, ‘ 7
37. 16 1036, e, f, 3741), e, d, f 7 . 35 2001), 0 139 14 185111, e
37. 18 198 78. 37 320, e 139 19 7a, (1
37. 24 1331) 78. 58 207, 269, 300 14] 10 4d
37 25 46 78, 71 19b, 0, d 142 4 250
37, 25,26,28 2299 78. 72 228, 239, 24-11 142 5 1310
37. 26 224b, 135-137 79. 4 375 143 2 170d, 256
37. 35, 36 319 79. 8 125 1-14 4 1821
37. 37 118e,119,133b,250c, 280 82. 5 212 144 14 178
38. 4, 18 366 84. 1, 2, 10 84:1, 866, 279g, 379-381 145 18, 19 503., 331-334, 41241
39. 1 671‘ sa 5 158., b, 187, 4126 146 3 26g
39. 5, 6 319, 429 B6. 15 356 147 5 297
39. 8 4d 86. 26 1703;, 1720 147 6 254
887
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.
PSALMS.-' -Continued.
Ch. 11. flnecdotes.
147. 7 289
147. 11 261
148. 12, 13 79
149. 4 254
150. 1 860, 1930, 439
PROVERBS.
1 3 228
1 “ 8, 9, 143
1. 10 15 2a, 32b, 0, d, 873.-<1,
@@@m@fl99@@9@@@9P@P 233332333wwwwwwwwwwwwwww--
O9 O9
127a. 197j, 229
22,29,30 212
24-27 323, b, 0, d, 1210, e, f
26, 27 2a, 70, 222
31, 32 290, 1460, 229 234, 422
7 198
10-12 337
202
3, 4, 35 33a
5 294, 353, 332
733
9, 10 47,1233
11, 12 13. 143-3303. 1701‘
13,13 337
13 39
32 333
33 141,193
34 204,247,;
34, 35 73
35 13
5-9 337
13,20-22 33, 39, 330
14, 15 23, b, e, E 22
14-13 323, <1, 51b, 37a, 3
13 193
19 29
23 31
21 252
3-11, 21,
2-2 2433
21 1323297
1-5 (1
3-9 003 21
- , 0
131', 141,252b,1‘,g, 1,314
, 293
PROVERB S. —Continued.
Ch. 0 ./inccdotes.
13. 7 45, 46, 123b
13. 15 288,314, 3763, b, 383,384
13. 18 3.59, 352k
13. 20 51b, 873-6
13. 24 138
14. 11 198
14. 12, 21 21
14. 13 63,1, 4110, e,1
14. 14 13g, 11, 26
14. 15 13., b, 0
14. 17 148b
14. 29 1040, g
14. 30 181', 163
14. 32 321‘, 1180, 121, 222, 2371‘,
2500, 426. 4270
15. 1 149, 155, 2491', 213
15. 3 13b, 77
15. 3, 11 13211, 297
15. 374b, d, e, 1‘
15. 8, 29 503.
15. 18 21
15. 19 2063, b, 0
15. 23 144, 368-372
15. 25 1133, b 1', 3370, 11, i
15. 31, 32 368, 369, 371
15. 32 212, 339, 352k
15. 33 b, 204
16. 1. 9 346-350
16. 5, 18 20, 18b, 0, 1', 1460, 3370,
, 1
20 143
20, 9
23 368, 369, 371
24,27,29 24611, 0
27 229
32-34 246b, 0
7 19511
26, 27 231d
27 246b, 0
10 387
12 89
13 18b, 0, 1‘, 3370, 11, 1
17 80
18 89, 166
10. 6, 7, 9 198
10. 9 381, 383
10. 13 135, 136:, 137, 1390
10. 15 37411
10. 18 181'
10. 24 222
10. 28 367
10 29 33b, 379-381
11. 7 120, 121, 222, 2371'
11. 3, 31 13,45-47,203
11 15 3d
11. 17,24,2545
11. 17, 31 379-381
1]. 21 2290
11 24, 25 29k, 46, 47, 282
11 30 250
11 31 333, b, 141
1.‘. 4 711
12. 10 2033, 378
12 16 1040, g
12. 17 314
12. 19 141, 252
12. 19, 22 2083., 0
12. 21 198. 252b, 1‘, g, i
12. 24 2433, 0, <1
13. 1 143
13. 5 13., 141, 252
3 0 21 33a.é4198, 379-381. E3,
3
16. 7 17a
16. 9 13m
16. 19 86b, 204
16. 22 152b
16. 25 356
16. 28 407
16. 32 21, 174, 401
16. 33 3543.
17. 3 297
17. 13 226
17. 14 49, 361
17. 17 10a, 0, 179
17. 18 33d
17. 23 2280, (1-g, 2390
18. 10 261, 294, 353
18. 11 374
18. 12 86b, 0, 1', 3370, h, i
18. 14 145d
18. 15 83g
18. 24 10, 179, 20011, 0
19. 1 228
19. 2 212
19. 3 178
19. 5, 9 252b, 1‘, g, i, 314
19. 11 711, 17a
19. 15 35, 2063, b, 0
19. 17 29j. k, 45, 3171'
19. 18 135, 1363, 137, 1390
19. 21 13171, 348-350
19. 25 339, é352k, 368, 369, 371,
19. 27 51b, 870-6, 152b
20. 1 1a, (1, 263., 229—236,402a,
0, 421
20. 4 35
20. 7 135, 137, 1523, 0, d, 197,
22/1‘b
2(). 19 174
20. 20 143
20. 24 13:11, 346-350
21 1 347
21. 3 33, 373-377
21. 7 3763,, b
21. 21 330., 198, 203
21. 25 35, 2063., b, 0
21. 28 314
21 31 131d, 0, g
22. 1 27b
22. 4 30, 86b, 197j, 204, 247;;
22. 6 58, 860, 135, 137, 139.
224b, 2290, 351 a, 4380
22. 9 45-47
22. 15 135, 1363., 137, 1390
22. 17 387
23. 4 267
23 7 133b
23. 12, 23 83 , 387
23. 20, 35 22 , 236

PROVERBS.—C0ntinued.
Ch. 7). ./lnccdotas.
23. 21 35
23. 21,29,30 230-234
23. 26 100, 403
23. 31, 32 26261230-234, 402a, 0
24. 1, 2 873-11
24. 13221
24. 16 198
24 17 154, 158, 162
24. 28 181', 4076, e, k
24. 29 154, 158, 162, 166, 291-
294
24. 30-34 35
25. 11, 12 144, 368-372, 386
25. 18 314
25. 21, 22 430, d, 1566, g, 1840
25. 22 155, 1563., 0, g, 157;
1583. 0, g, 241, 242
26. 3 135, 1363, 137, 1390
26. 4 2610, g, 1, 0, q
26. 12 3370
26. 15 206:1, b, 0
26. 21 148b
26. 28 174, 252
27 1 42, 84. 126, 127, 128
27. 4 181‘, 163
27. 5, 6 368-372
27. 9, 10 179
27. 24 33, 3740-1'
28. 1 870
28. 6 228b, e, g
28. 7 873.-d
28. 9 33b, 1270, 138
28. 10 198
28. 13 90
28. 14 31
28. 22 267
28. 23 174, 339, 352k, 386
28. 25 294, 353
29. 1 323, b, 0, 126, 127, 128
29. 4 2390, 2441
29 15 138, 368-371
29 17 135-137,1390
29. 20 20
29. 23 18b, 0. 1', 86b, 204, 3370
1, 1
29. 25 9j, 53m, 11, 294, 353
30. 5 294, 353
30. 8, 9 29, 10311, 0, 1‘, 267, 374
30. 12 233
ECCLESIASTES.
1. 2, 14 199. 374, 429
2. 11 199, 374, 429
8. 3 120g, h, j
8. 14 357
9. 3 60, (1
9. 10 42,8-1.118.128, 2380.243
9. 12 290, 120, 1223., b, 128
9. 15 226
10. 1 209
10. 20 288
11. 1, 6 46, 650, 723, 74, 75, $0!
282, 414-420
11. 9 4110
12. 1 150, 126
12. 11 339, 352k, 368-372, 38'
SONG OF SOLOMUY
1. 4, 7 248
2. 5 218
3. 2 248
5. 9-10 248
7. 10 7g
8. 6, 7 249
8. 7 7
ISAIAH.
1. 3 5, 102. 231:
2. 18, 20 64, 281b, 0
3. 10, 11 1a. 141. 198
5. 11, 12 229-236, 421
5. 12 30-32
5. 18 73
5. 20 356
5. 24 23b, 299
888
, . 8999 sssssssssssssssspes
e"ssaas“w~s*swsm“ee sis arsseeesssessr '
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.

ISAIAH.-Continued.
:€:w,:[n<7:w 9
Q‘ Q
10
4
H
Q
1-‘(I1 Unhtb
98 *PEssssa @fl°s : uses
H 15 IO
67
sssspssflsr
8 52
H-1
0
:se
H
1-?‘
Anecdotes.
119 1
81
531, 349, 440
1929, b
18b, 0, fl 1460, 3370, h,i
18a
2290
18a-f, 3370, h, i
146
294, 353
18b, 0, f, 3370, h, i
197, 198
13, I4, 800, 100, 348
13, 14. 51, 800, 348
580, 139d, 152, 224b,28‘7,
351a, 0, 387-399, 4380
33%, f, g, i, 314
205
192a, b, 254
73
148b
212
64b, 207d, 281b, 0
40, 45, 46, 47, 123b
71, 74, 75
1930, 198, 228, 239, 2441.
]8a, 1940
13, 14, 294, 353
294, 353
316
1071', 192a, b
63a
301, 302
207, 269
212
353a
41
331-334, 4190
207, 269
81a, 82, 186
207, 269, 281b, 0
341-352
185
13, 14, 51, 800, 348
610
1463., r
11, 13, 14, 51,190-192,
9 53
'
61e
150, 239., 33, 127, 1290
313
‘I
H
H
1-1
C
Q
1-:
H
asses
J;
I-I
lb
57-66, 277-279
33, 197. 198, 228, 239 377
379-381
207, 269, 270, 272
1210, e, f
294, 353
1649, 204, 247g
290., 48:1
610
94-96, 288
28
B1 2.3 7 13,50 ‘.lUb 1923, It

ISAIA H.-—~Continued.
C71,. 0. flneodotes.
0-2. 6, 7 390, 302, 3990
63. 10 32, 127, 196, 365a, 367
04. 0 18a,240, 256
64. 8 347-352
65. 5 20, 256
65. 14 191b, 1928., b
66. 24 50a, 330a, b, 331-334
JEREMIAH.
LZ8JL
18 112, 260
2.’ 5 146a, f
2. 13 85, 2760, 298-310, 424-
427
9. 19 13h, g, ear, g
3. 13 90-93
321 imaag
ass as
5. 3 31, 126
57 mnms
6. 14 301, 302, 4%, 427
6. 15 99
7. 18 207, 269
8. 7 5, 2310
8. 9 53b, 1', h, 70, 299
9. 1 250
9. 2-8 252, 407
9. 23, 24 302, 374
10.3- 207,269
10. 23 341-345
10. 25 328
12. 1, 2 358
13. 17 146a
13.03 as 150,230
14. 14 7
14. 22 207. 269
16. 17 132b, 297
16. 19 . 10
17. 5 304
11 7 53n,294,353
17. 9 132a
17. 23 150, 31, 212, 367
18. 6 341-345
18. 12 1210, e, f, 132
18. 20 226
20. 9 2640
20. 11 316
22. 10 52
22. 22 la.
22. 30 2290
23. 14,17 211. 215 494
23.23,24 132b,297,194a
27. 9 177
29. 7 157, 313
29. 8 177
3 . 18 2290
32. 19 13211, 297
32. 33 212
33. 3 sag b, 331-334, 3359,
44. 2-4 207, 269
49. 16 1811-02
50.38 207,209
LAMENTATIONS.
3. 26 118. 321
3. 30 291-294
EZEKIEL.
2. 3-7 307, 368a, 0, 371a, 11 d
2. 4 720
2. 6, 7 112, 260
2. 7 260
3.10.11 237d,e,260
3. 18 26211
3. 20 26a
5. 6 70
8. 215
12. 24 177
13. 7, 9 1'77
13. 10 301, 424, 427
13. 29 301,302,424
16. 2 260
16. 20 270
16. 49 206, 337

ms
$P@sseew 5 §F5PsPse@esseee Pr '8 $388 $55559
assess
£“9°9°i°’r‘
EZEKIEL. .--Continued
0. ./Inecdotes.
63 125
4, 20 28h
5, 8, 9 197, 198, 228, 239
30, 31 366, 373
15,16,20,
21 381k, 383, 384
26 270
43 366, 373
29 177
12 131d, 0, g, 2281), d-g_
2390, 2441
13 2611
7-9 111a, b, 0, 260
18 26
31 1010, 132a, 205
. 11 163
. 18 207, 269, 360
. 31 366, 373
24 378-386
. 9 228, 239
3 1930, 317b, 439
DANIEL.
12 4f, 2362.
16, 17 670, e, 173, 285i‘, 1, £94,
353
27 45
. 30,31,37 18b, 0, f, 3370, h, 1
35 341-345, 35:2;
6 9g, 94, 365
20,23,30 18b, 0, f, 3370, h, 1
27 2601
3, 4 163
10 23a, 188, 190
25 298-303
9 187
20, 21 90
24 23721, 240
12 50a, 330a, b, 33! 354
35 13, 14
3 '74, 75, 263, 277-281
387-399
13 650
HOSEA.
4 237b, 0, g
2 252
6 70, 138, 212 2290
6 32b
15 13, 51, 348
4, 5 13h, g. 26
12 32b, 127, 3653, 367
8 207d, 28111, 0
JOEL.
13 187, 366, 373
32 500., 333, 412d
AMOS.
3 253b-f
6 141, 143, 208, 383, 38
4 40
12 228b, d-g, 2390
1. 225a
3 1221‘, 424
OBADIAH.
3, 14 18a, b, 0, 3370, b, 1‘
10-15 116, 316
JONAH.
5 221. 222
7 200b, 0, 333
8 366, 373
9 7e
2 187
MICAH.
2, 3 29a
2 132d, h, j, 1, tn
7, 11 1:17
8 112, 260
889
QHUPTURALINDEX.
-—-
1°b“ 949434?‘ 9° ?‘E“ ?‘
1°!°!'‘‘1'''
ewww 292229 wsssssssgeeewwwswsr ewwsw 5552 Qsse
“sass
0 see?
5 m““s
0911 oo
$32900-Jeni» . :3:Jhi:::: -0:-E523
MJCAI-1.-—Continued.
./.lnecdotes.
2770, 278h
27
0
33, 202, 204, 220, 229,
377
202
NAHUM.
70,73,ll6,208,316,383,
304
13, 14, 50, 66, 190, 192
2503, b, 258, 259, 260,
262, 263, 277-281
150, 32, 70b, d, f, 871),
120b,121c—g,126, 128d,
0, 129e, 196
HABAKKUK.
1055
720
20, b, 422, 423
207,209,300
ZEPHANIAH.
205,424
254
HAGGAL
102
95a,96b,219,288
112,195
317r
ZECHARIAH.
‘°‘°‘°$ :.I-‘~"°"""<:'i
1-1
§5c>
N)
1-1
0
1-1
1°
35
23, 24
25
29,30
34,37
39
O
. 45, 46
1-4
390,399
314,370
197,193,220,239,377
13 150, 31, 32, 127, 213,
305 307
a’)
2770., 0, 291-294, 430
254,2771
177, 207, 269, 300
, 14a-g.
MALACHI.
314, 318
40
46, 47
358 '
1190
M!;TTHEW.
81
11
366,373
3500
373
366, 373
204
4251‘
66
366, 373
54k, 830
204, 247g
13, 50, 1701'
254
203
1320., 228, 239
27711, 0, 291-294, 313
31519
30, s00,1010,0,1;100,
2330,2051
92, 93
89

MATT HEW.—Continued.
.2,516
6
($§?)(QlQ(O(\DI--—-I-spat-I>—li—l)—l1-lb-IF—|)—-1-l)-l1—lI—l\-lb-ll-1|"-l)—4)-I‘-l‘-l)-41-ll-I)-JI—ll-ll—|)-lb-lb-1)-l)_)._|}-10-4]-1)-1)-45-A 1-1)-15-|§_4
w.r-ePPPswwswwsswsswwesssssssseeeeewwsssrrerF9929 ?PPPP9@@flflflflflfl N9Hfi@9@@@©@¢®@®
Q3
235d, 412
73, 338-340
431-437
149, 175, 241, 242, 29' ~
294
104
154-102,1e40
1020
90,430
11,12
29
22.37,33
22.39
23. 3
23.
23. 12
flnecdotes.
205
23a, 327
480, 194a, 287k
286d, 321, 409
82, 154, 187
23., 29b, 1450., 229, 401d
120g, 11, j, 121d, g, 1220
“S10
267b, e, g, h
346
1270, 1290, 130
48a.
2e, 76a, 1460
5011., 330b, 331-334, 412d
1611, 0, 38-14, 142, 202,
286, 377
223
0
101,100,215,309,424
101,166,193b
402
192e
195a,218
86b,204
218
81a, 82
375
383, b, (1-1, 71, 72b, 317
340, e, 1", 2430, t‘
403
1220,1921
- 1
25 a
28b, 1940, f, 227
62b, 81a
28b, 62b, 81a, 172b
204'
J
730, e, j, n, 4060.
105a
216, 217, 219, 220
29k, 1
151
94
3032
329
327
4270
143
205,209
209
86b,204,247g
329
170g
140a
256
122d, 192 l, 403
18g, 408
86b, 204
423
40, 403, 412
27b, 28, 81, 82, 187
377
167b
140a.
3332., e, j, m
1930, 297, 439
1750, g, 176, 155-162
80
543., 143, 3620, 377
290
030,192]
200,210
19
235a, 391, 393-397
320, 331-344
276d, 28811, i, 0, r, 365
214, 299
100, 188, 19211
40, 36, 37, 142, 202, 250,
262, 377
. 209
5,25,27
23 205
20. 18b, 0, f, 1460, 3370,
1
7
u_- ~
MATTHE-W.—Uontianed.
Ch. 71.
23. 14-24
. 25
>-at-11-1-It-I1-lp-1|-it-It-1)-It-4»-It-11-1)-lh-M-H-1
ssseeeeeewssswressspepw @@@@flfl$@@@9P?+PWPPPF?FP
)—l
10
70
29, 30
'.‘'“‘''E'''
05
an
7,0
flneotllifes.
356, I158
205
500,321,409
20,29b,1450,229
113
314
130a
261', 95-97
60, 11, 87b, 95-97, 350
218
132d,h,j,l,na
2010
3821, '0, 2561', 403
122 1921
18g, 120g, h,j 121d, g
1220, 191a, ‘ 67, 2781»
374d, 0, f, 408
127a
360
412
1010, (1, 111b, e, 209, 263
5011, 80, 860, 387-399
3741), e f
2480, 250, 285
320, 331, 332
176
100
377
259
39,3890
1452
710
359
321,409
29b, 1', 1450
314
130
132d, h, j, l, tn
261d
840., 124, 169-172, 240
LUKE.
711
330
54, 55a, g, 600, 0-1,
23711, e
1191', 2371', 28711
188, 192
290
300,373
81%)
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.

9PP@?@@ @NNNN?@9?@9°@9 @@@@@@P?P4Pww§
.m
.Qmm
m
LUKE.-Continued.
v. flnecdates.
11 38, 317
14 103d, 0, f
17 360
18, 19 50b, 277-281
8 86b
16 327
17 81
21 24 813., 82
12 322, 327, 3990
22 132d, h, m
23 1911)
24 290, l
. 24, 25 120g, h, j, 1216., g, 1220
3741), , e,
25 32f
27,28,35 43:1, 154-162, 241, 242
29 2 1-- 4
36 1870
37 1750. g, 176
38 46, 47, 48a, 1231)
39 0 , 268
41, 42 2e, 76a, 1460
46, 49 1010, d
30 70
34 251a, b
41-46 256
47 248
8, 15 57-65 74, 75, 263, 277-
281, 414-420
13 26, 23le
18, 21 101, 166 193,
28 218
7 94
23 38a, 1), 2561', 403
24 192d, (132 1h 10m
25 1 R) 1‘ w a .1 ~ 1 S7
81220, 1910,1267, 278:,
374d, e, f, 408
26 127a
60 257, 258
62 26, 320, d, e
2 25!
27 100, 3620, 377
30-36 156, 2420
4 0
. 4 2, 29b, 229
. 5-8 322, 3990
. 10-13 3300, b, 0, 331-334
. 28 193b, 101, 166
. 43 27
. 52 53b, i, k
. 4, 5 260, 112, 119:1, 147b, 266
. 8 84, 88
. 9 127a.
. 10 730, e, j, m, 406a
15 29a, 1450
1221'
29_] 120, 121, 1940
1290
35-37 118, 12221, b, 238
1
12
12
12.
12

LUKE.-Continued.
Ch. '0. ./lnsdotes
18. 16 80
18. 30 286z
19. 8 95, 313
19. 10 28a., 1870
19. 22 216, 217, 220, 412k
19. 41 312
19. 42 331), 127, 365a, 367
20. 46 27
20. 47 326( , 356
21. 2 3890
21. 19 84:1, 2840, 311
21. 26 120, 121, 221, 222
21. 34 229
22. 19, 20 86
22. 33 2790
22. 40, 46 229
22. 41, 42 321, 408
23. 28 2500
23. 34 153m, 157
23. 34-45 2616.
23. 43 2500
23. 50, 51 228, 239
24. 30 32
24 52 427a
JOHN
1. 1-3 81
1. 1-14 195a.
1. 12 169, 170, 240
1. 29 28, 1 7a.
1. 33 195
1. 36 106-109, 262
1. 45-49 106-109, 262
3. 1-3 106-109, 262
3. 3 65d
3. 5, 6 195
3. 11 176b
3. 16,17,36 2822., i, 167, 168, 170,
1 b, 0
3. 19-21 83j, 212. 213
3. 36 2371‘, 360
4. 36 263
4. 34, 39 106-109, 262
4. 42 280, i
5 1718,23 4273.
5. 39 55, 63, 68, 69, 214, 290,
362, 387-399
5. 43 114
5. 44 54a, 213
6. 11, 23 329
6 27 12%,;-P, h, j, 121d, g, 1220,
74
6. 29 169-172, 240
6. 37 187
6. 63 541‘, k
6 66 26
6. 68 8311
7. 24 13-10
7. 46 218
8. 9 30a, (1, e, 2766, 288a, 1,
0, r, 289d
8. 12 13g, 880, 190-192
8. 21 120, 121, 237f, 359
8. 34 2311, 235d
8. 36 24%. 0
8. 43 . 54e, 212, 213
8. 44 252 460
9. 31 1520
9. 39 15311, 212
10. 9 304
10. 33 427
11. 25, 26 169-172, 240
12. 12-15 2771
12. 43 27
1 . 48 36811
13. 2 406
13. 7 194d
13. 14 81, 204
13 15 71
13 27 215b
13. 34 2610
13. 34, 35 247
14 1, 18, 27 66, 172, 240, 294, 353 ..
14 6 304
14. 21, 23 248
14. 26 54, 55.1, g, 6021, 0-1‘, 1
15. 3 54g, 11, i, 57-65

. 9
.2m%
. -2032,24 192a, b, 194i, 1;
2 ws
__
y—a_--_
.1 OHN .-Continued.
. v flnecdoaes.
248
. 11 19221, b, 194g, j, 1!
. 12 84a, 217
13 81>, e, 37
. 18,24,525 132d, 11, j, 1, m
2 298, 303, 315, 316
. 7, 13, 14 54, 55a, g, 60a, 0-
8 30, 1320, 195
50b
7 1
12. 45, 46 ..
12. 49,5 -53 841), (1, e, f
12. 57 94-97, 276.1, 3655, 3'17
13. 3 3500, 366, 373
14. 11 86b, 204
14. 13 380
14. 18 1298., 1)
14. 26,27,313 8411, d, e. f, ‘Z/c‘~1a. b, 403d
14. 34 1010,11, ‘
15. 7, 10 250g
15. 18, 19 366, 373
16 9 38a,b
16 13 760
16. 19 120j
16. 26 307, 360
17. 1 3
17. 2 153n, 1610
17 3, 4 13011, 1750, 176, 368-372,
386
.7. 10 256, 258g
18. 1-3 1520, 322, 3990
18. 7, 8 5021, 330a, b, 331, 334,33aa,
b, 4126
18 9 256k
18. 11 23
I8. 12 2561)
18. 13 1530. 25611, 324, 373
1!. 14 88, 1460, 204
-_.---
3 1853.
13 192a, b, 194j, k
15 336a.
17, 19 54g, 11, 1, 57-65
. 20-22 20-16, 247
11 50a, 409
25, 27 130
36 2771
15 132d, h, j, 1, m
. 24 180-182
26 8
28 81
15-17 1951', 248
ACTS.
2 54, 60a, 0-1‘, 1
14 330, 334
18 359
24 297
23 260, 349, 350
33 195
37 306-0
38 366, 373
42 86
46 330
330
366, 373
0g‘
.. 1
12 28a. b, 256
13 1011'
13,18,19,
29 411, d, e, f, 11.2 260
32 840, 2-17
36, 31 383, b
3-5 208a. 0, 252b, f, g, i, 400
4060
357
8-10 29, 208a, 0, 252b, f, g,
i, 406, 406a
29 84b, d, e, f, 112, 173
32 295
39 1471)
41 119a.
42 262
3 197
4 262
10 112
13 314
9, 10 163, 346
32a, b, 336, 121 196
355a,367,406d
51-53 112,250
59, 60 157, 254
1-4 315a
22 366, 373
23 30
27-38 106-110, 262
29 112, 260
36, 39 4-1
10. 2, 4 3&1, b, 328
10. 22 197
10. 31 334
10. 34 1121)
10. 36 81
10. 38 38-44, 317, 414-420, 44
10. 42 ]20a, 238, 4270
10. 43 170, 240
11. 2-1 263
11. 29 38-40
12. 5. 7, 12 330, 331
12. 21-23 186, 316, 3370, 11,]
13. 3 330
13 38, 39 280, b, 8121, 169-172
186, 187, 240, 256
13. 45 163
15. 9 162:.
891
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.
—-___n
wwwwssfissessessw sees ewwwwwwwwww-----

ACTS.—Continued.
.flnecdotes.
330
30b-9,195,333
170,240
163
54a,55,63c,68, 69,299
114,l|7,3U5-308
77,290b
341-345
360,373
238,35lb,c
210,243
112
153
262
112,260
177b,278b,295a
86
s6b,204
20,21,26 144b, 262
24
2483., e, 2503, b, c, 285
260
262
41,210,243
5,286
330
330
2483., 2790, e, 285
3"1
298, 303
84b, d, e, f
333, c, e, f, 98, 228, 239
113
333, c, e, F, 98, 228, 239
320, e, 1', 126. 127, 351b,
0, 238, 260h
298, 303
212
366
0
~50
ROMANS.
.7—65,186
170a,240
, 58
272-276b,31Bf
31,126,367
311
268

071..
N9 9 @322 we eeewws sens e-ee--
ROMANS.-—Continued.
0. flnecdotes.
. 35, 37 190, 191, 1920-m, 194j,
k, 200
. 38, 39 119
. 1-3 250, 312, 408
5 81
11 1706, 19411
1 250, 312, 408
3 616, 256i, k, m
4 170, 240
. 9-11 169
14 ‘268
15 257
17 61
6 240, 256
16 1850, d, e
1 100
3 47g
6, 7 257, 258
10 204d, 247
11 206, 210, 258
12 30, 8421, 311, 322, 323,
327
13 201
14 155, 208
15 36-44
16 38, 204
17, 19 21, 175, 176, 291-294
8 313
20-21 430,11, 1540, 156, 15811,
i, 184a, 241, 2-12
3 150
5 333, c, 1', 95-98, 228,
239, 382, 3893, d
7, 8 33, 197, 198, 228, 239,
377
8. 9 54, 211, 132i, 3620
10 4e
13 65a, 87b, 197, 228, 239,
251
6 188, 192d
8 1221
. 10, 12 351b, c
. 13, 21 2a, b, 3e, 880, 209, 2330,
283, 423
. 17 1923., b, 194g-1
19 2776., 313
. 1, 2 4e, 44b, e, f, i, 250
4 68, 6 ,
13, 32 1923, b, 194g-l
. 19,24,f25 258
30 193e
. 6 4]
1 CORINTHIANS.
7, 8 238
10 134a
12 1933, e, f
17 259
21 63
23, 24 81b, 186
25-29 227
27-29 79, 388, 389, 391, 393,
39 , 97
1, 4, 13 259
186
9 194k
12, 13 54, 553., ,2, 60a, 0, f-i,
1953., 237d, e
14 132g, 11, j, 1, m
6 164b, 195, 333, 334
22, 23 118, 119, 2500
1, 2 144b, 258-260, 262
7 132e, g
12, 13 21d, 155, 175, 176, 210,
25 , 01
7, 8 61'
207, 229-236, 269, 300,
4023, c
1 2443, lo, 0 e, f
5 1340
7 291 294
9, 1" 207, 229-236, 260, 300,
40111, c
11 Win. 281, 16210, 240, 277,
278
211 100, 1959
3 71', g, 241

1 CORINTHIANS.-Continued.
PP”??? Wflflfl@®9@9?¢F?9u?99mp§A»AA wwwww H
on
,31
. 15-17
22
aqneodotcs.
73
103d,e,f
195e
253b—f
207,269,300
4e
283,284
258j
168,170g,172o
178
29f, 13111, e, g
11, 112p
3821., b, 44b, 0, f, i, 250
76b. 411r, 41%
5, 2313, 2350
86
I 27,2030 86d, 112p
ser
13,14
207,260 300
195
167b,168
39b,167b,168
‘)6
...5
8a, 433, b, 44b, 78, 163,
175, 176, 241, 242,
407d, e, i, k
4d, e
258, 262
2893, b, c,j
330
230
2044
5lb,87a,b
ii3,1i0,i72,200,2s0
48,678,173, 175g 23st
01, 4030, 0
4
4a, 67e, 173, 1751‘, 2851
1, 403b, d
41
2243.
2 CORINTHIANS.
13. 50b, 661'-g, 1701', 190
191, 1920-m, 194), k
153n
259
1943
304, b, c, 1011, 144b,
153a,260
32,114,213
227
13,14,100-192
284c,285
188
113,113,172
661', g, 1701‘, 2500
11g, 119, 1226
23
17a,l53a,360
2040
28538-47,195e,248,249
6
257
28gh,170,240,363
1s3r
213,240
128,439a
311,235
13,50b,c,374j
53b-f
190, 191, 1920-m,194_], 11
366, 373
223e
39, 4lce, 286a—g, k, 1, in,
1 qi ti
421’ Y
197, 198, 228
45-47, 1231), 282
286
188
303-16, 2761), 2883., i, o, 1
129a, 238, 351a—c
54, 603, c, f, i
349, 350
180-182
19, 20 ]7.0d, 256, 276d, 365
25, 26 240
4, 5, 24
25 172, 240
17 227
20, 21 171, 172
1, 2, 10 200, 240
, 4 13, 14, 661‘, g, 800, 190,
191, 1920-m
5 194, 195, 200
7 37
8 186
10 28, 363
11 1923, b, 191g-1
1 l 100
12 230-234, 251
16 230
21 125
23 240
8 1321'
23 230
7 132, 213, 424, 4276
15 221, 2-22, 240, 249
17 172j
28 1701" 1926
1-:
pa
9
30a-e, 57-65. 74, 75 1%
263,277-279
1932-f
()0
O M
~’

SCRIPTURAL INDEX.

1 THESSALONIANS.-—Contia’i
C11. 0 Anecdotes.
4. 8 195
4. 9, 10 84a, 247
4. 11 41. 210, 243
4. 12 197, 2:48, 239
4. 13 3221-6, 1‘, 1210, e, f, 406:
5. 3 131d, 0, g
5. 8 163-572, 119m, 200, 247,
4
5. 14 260, 311, 368-372, 386
5. 15 154-162, 175, 176, 241,
242, 254, 291-294, 313
5. 16 13, 500, 118e, 119, 192a,
194g—l
5. 18 1 188
5. 17 23a, 5821, 136, 323, 3241)
5. 19 32a, b, 33b, 127, 196
365a, 367
5 22 3. 76a, 146b, 229, 2330
5. 27 299
we .°°2°s-" .w.w$°t°s°r°r*:-'r—:—r-'2-*2-* 99> sssssssseissiseeeee-ew wwwww --W w~'>ww--
O ‘O
|-4
G)
9
2 THESSALONIANS.
1940
316
268, 360, 424
305
>t-_=-¢_~i oz 0!
@.<==>
(O
298
213, 299-310, 358a, 402
35, 206d, e, 243
1 TIMOTHY.
248
280, 1320, 170d, e, 1941)
164a, 185a, b
26, 33a, b, 98, 99, 2%,
239, 382, 389a, <1
197
281, 81a.
30a—e, 320, 326b
146, 248d, 337], k, 403;
3f, 135a, 142, 201, 259,
311
'4
7h
99, 309, 356, 358
188
83s, h, 2176, 379-381
2 4
6 a.
151, 210d, 2581
258, 262
“63
322, 323, 327
31, 358
11:1, 210, 243
- ,2s-2
1010. 257b, 421, 4%
104a, b, 2656
103, 1921, 3784381
121d, 0, 1940, 4290, 0
a, , 0
29. 48, 1450. 267, 374
228, 239. 247, 248, 2»;
377, 401:1
as. 31411
104, 105a, 2641)
TIMOTHY.
P-l\—l
er
r-Av-I
1010
OJ
‘5i’55''¢5°°$'°‘‘'':
@-
19
9. CORINTHIA N S.-Continued.
filt v. Auecdates.
11. 23-27 250a, b, 285
12. 9 122i, 190, 191
12. 10 13b, 14a, b, 661‘, g, 1701‘,
190, 191, 1920-m, 194j,
k, 3l5b
12. 14, 15 142, 258, 262
12. 16 108, 339a, d, f, g
13. 7 100, 166, 197
13 11 247, 213
GALATIANS.
.1. 4 1950
1. 10 112, 260
1. 11,12 54, 55a, g, 600, 0-1‘, i,
195a, 237d, e
2. 16 170, 19411, 240, 256
2. 20 1950
3. 6 240
3. 11 1703., 0, 256
3. 13 28a, 1950
3. 20 185a
4. 6 1200
4. 8 207, 269, 300
4. 18 42, 262, 285, 286, 441
5. 1 112, 173, 1751‘, 2851', i,
403b, d
5 14 38, 39, 250, 286, 3620
5 16 251
5. 19-21 18, 20, 27, 29, 31, 32, 79,
87, 115, 132, 141, 147,
163, 177, 180-182, 229-
234, 246, 288, 309, 424
5 22-25 13, 14, 71, 72b, 92, 93,
154—162,169-172,192a,
b, 194g—l, 235, 254
5 26 146a, b, 1‘
6 1 254
6 9, 10 38-47, 71, 72b, 260, 262,
282, 286, 387—399,414—
420, 428, 441
EPHESIANS.
1. 2 81
1. 6, 7 28, 240
1. 23 29'.‘
2. 1 195
2. 2 400
2. 34'), 8, 9132, 170d, 19-4h, 195,
240. 256
2. 13 81a, 82, 240
3. 7 257
3. 12 112, 169-172, 240, 260,
2790, 0
4. 1, 2 86b, 101, 166, 175, 176,
204, 254, 401
4. 3 247
4. 4, 5 168
4. 11-13 257
4. 16 2490
4. 17-19 831), 212, 213, 268-276,
356, 358
4. 25 139b, 141, 252
4. 26 21a, b
4. 28 243, 278e, 279b
4 30 32a, b, 33b, 127, 196
4. 31 21, 91. 93, 2471', 4071, e, 1;,
4. 32 202, 241, 242
5. 2 247
5. 4 105a
5. 5 2%., 0, e, j, 1, 246, 374
5. 8 880, 101, 166
5. 11 la, 112k, 260, 368-372,
386
5. 18 229-236
5. 19 289a, b, 0, '
5. so res, 19~2t--P’, j—m
5. 25., 24 24111, d, 0
5 25,28,33 70, f, 2413., c
6. 1 296
6. 4 58s, 135-139, 197j, 224b,
4380
6. 5-9 4041), 0, d
6. .‘0, 13 173. 260, 1751', 285.‘, 1,
403b, d
6 12 40
6 14 16 , 197, 228, 239,240,
430
C11.
9°?’
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I 1 I 0 - D I 0 I O I I 0 I I u I . I 0 I Q , I I I O I . 0 I I 0 . . . . .
999‘?
EPHESIANS.-—-Continued.
0. flnecrlotes.
16 169-172, W
15 21, 149, 154-162, 175,
176, 254, 291-294, 313,
437b, 0
17 53 1, 57-65, 195a
18 136, 323, 324b, 3990
19 1930
24 248
PHILIPPIANS.
9 247, 248
20 112. 260
21 118, 119, 2500
23 1220, 2480
25 192a, b, 194g-1, 240
27, 28 105a, 173, 175f, 2-17,2851‘,
i, 4036, d
1, 2 247
3 146a, b, 1‘, 194b. 204
871‘-
9, 10, 11 81, 42721
30 36
1 500, 880, 107f
7, 8 192 1
9 240, 256
17 101, 166, 412h
18 111b, e, 209
19 230, 251a, b
20 871‘, 1050. d
1 173, 1751‘, 263, 403b, d
4 500, 880, 1071‘, 190, 191,
1920-m, l94j, k
6 23a, 30, 76b, 188, 411
7 66d, 1l9h
8 154-162, 197, 201, 202,
228, 239
11, 12 103
14 38-47, 346
COLOSSIANS.
5, 27 191m, 200
10 71, 88, 106-110, 142,441
11 175, 192a, b, 194g-1, 311
13 2771
14 28, 240
20 170, 240
21 363
23 173, 175f, 2851‘, 1, 403b, d
5-7 173, 1751‘, 2851‘, i, 403b, d
7 189
8 213, 299, 309, 424, 427
21 2a, 0, 229
2 120g, h, j, 1220, 199
5 40, 21, 29, 48, 146, 147-
149. 163, 246
9_ 1396, 252. 311
10 871', 166, 4041), d
12 86b, 154-162, 201, 202,
204, 241, 242
13 8a. Qé)-93, 154-162, 175,
17
14 247, 250
16 289a, b, 0, j
18, 19 7, 241
20 143, 296
22-24 404b, 0. d
25 116, 143, 1450, 182, 252
2 145a, 188, 323
5 146b
12, 13 262, 285, 286, 441
14, 15 247
1 THESSALONIANS
9 188, 331-334
6 1928., b, 19-ig-1
3-5 174, 260
7 254, 34211
10 101, 166, 228, 239
13 54, 60a, 0-1‘, 1, 1959.,
2376, e
19 263
5 229
9 188, 279i
10 323
12 36-47, 247 250, 286, 441
6 141, 180-182, 2780, 279b
192a, b, 194s,—1
135, 136, 22411, 2290, 287
610, 186, 19411, 240, 256
17211
98t‘
173, 1751‘, 2851‘, 1,4031», a
as
1910
151, 2581, 259, 260
105a
104a, b, 0, t‘, 265b
3, 4, 235, 247, 250 2515
155, 204, 259, 311, 3724
401d
17a, 21d, 25-1, 401d
230, 2356, 400
18, 29, 48, 73, 143, 20'}
2181‘, 226, 2-16, 251
213, 309, 424
51-65, 287 299
N) N.) N.) *0 <9
59 &§m aszsassass me
(D 7
10
O0
893
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.

"" O-.
2 TIMOTHY.——Continued. HEBREWS.——Continued. 1 I’ETER.-—Coutinued.
Ch. 7:. .flnccdotes. Ch. 71. .r9Il(.'6(10t8?. Ch. 7) flrtecrlotes.
3. 16,17 54-69,726, 19511.,337-399 12. 9 135-137, 315, 316 2. 19,20 175,176,311
4. 1 233.3516, 6 12 10, 11 13, 14,50, 66t',g,89c 2. 21 213
4 2, 5 14§13521g%,6962. ‘~’63a,368- 1:. 14 175, 176, 254, 313 2. 24 316 _
4. 3, 4 2137293-310, 424-427 3 5356, 62:1 'i'1i',5'i1’,f’21ii1l,’ 230’ "'403'
4. 6-3 1121;, 113, 200, 2336, 240, 13. 4 36311 3. 3,9 36, 176, 21, 113, 1.15,
2506 13. 5 29, 10311, 6, 1“, 12~2j, 1456, 156-175, 202, 247. 401
4. 10 37411 1921, 346 3. 10,11 45-47, 175,173,25-2.313.
13. 16 47, 71, 726, 74, 75, 236, 379-331
TITUS. 317, 3396, 6, 6, 423, 3. 12 596, 331-334, 41211
( .
1- 7-9 3423511911201. 323 13.18 66.‘ff“., ., 1, 66, 1611, 3' ‘6 ‘°’3S1111°.;.?*1’§115‘,8’§11°'§.;,’’3.“1;
1 13 060 316g_"3..2 197, 223, 239, 332, 4076, 6,6, j
1- 15 59 13-6 3-5 3898-, 11 3. 13 1956, 24011, 256f,1
2- 4 7b» (fg Qg QM d e 13.17 262 4. 3,4 207, 230-232, 251, 269,
' 1 1 1 1 *' 1 1 1
11 JAMES 4 5 2336 3516 6
2. 8 101e, 407a, b, c, f, ' ' '_ ‘_ .’
2. 9,10 4046, 6,11 J 1. 2 1926. 8-k, 1945,11 1 Z, 320 334
2. 12 2, 3, 223, 235,239, 251, I; 133,114, 311 4- 9 20,
377 . '1 - , . ..
2. 13 194 233 1. 5-7 320, 322 4- 11 A 19”» 23‘d' F1 260
2. 14 1956, 423, 441 1. 3 3211 4- 131 14 8‘x1:1?‘,1l15;°;1 6 192°» °1 k1
' 1 ~ 1 ‘ -‘J’ I , ’
3. 2 1346, 254, 40711, 6,11 1. 13 1326 5- 5 18l,;137,°c» ‘J04, 24781
3. 3 20, 1626, 163, 402 1. 1 58-65 1. 1 - .
g. 5 616, 17011, 1946, 195, 256 2) 17983. 175. t-‘Z54 5' 8’ 9 673,033,}-*;, 28°F’ " 40"’
.6 136 -‘ . ‘a,e.‘ ’
3. 9 10461 b, 6, 1‘ 2656 1. 23, 24 436, 6. 2646
' ' 3' if i”.i’1"1;‘13‘J7i46a’ z°;3§g1 1 2 PETER‘
. - 1 1 0121 11 . 66 ,1721
PHILEMON 353 ' 5 68c16i)—i72
4 188. 323. 327 2. 3 239, 250, 3626, 236, 377 1 6 2_ ,1 235 411
169-17“ 147-150 - - 1 1‘
’ "’ 2- 13 1 1316 1. 7 36-47, 241, 242,247
11 404 2. 14,17,26 43, 1058., 1116, 209 L 1.2 15 600,,’ C, 255
A 184 2. 15-17 43;, 211i 1016, 1046, 6, r, L 1912, 54 6,, 637,1, 8 299
U I 7 ,
HEBREWS- 2. 132122 2' 1 427
~ 1 1 , 2. 2. 14, 15 309
L 1 54 553" g’ 51) 24 1013., b, 106, 19311 2 4 4951
1. 2 31, 23711, 6, 4276 $38 21 13,19 215, 216,230, 329, 424
1.3 31164 - ~ <1 ,1,22', U6
2. 1 63169 a 3- 5 14816 4073 5: 2 26-214, 424 a
2. 94 231 3- 17 3.8§l.d3f‘?~4l7._ $415.0 3, 7’ 233,’ 3516, 6 228 g
2. 1 1 172,113-121 20t 4- . . 1.1.1. — , 4, 0- , 11, 166, 2:3.
3. 4 ’ ‘’ 135641 ’ 191.106;110.142.154- 5 “’ 12 1 3366, 6, 35111, 6’
3' 31 32 127 367 3' 16 8561043’ 2357 ' 403b '
. , , ..,. 1 1 1~*1 1 . ,"', ,1. ,6
4. 12 396-6, 54,: 57-65, 336, 254.286.‘291—29-1,394. 3 17 51 1'
460 4. 1 431-437 -
4,13 697 4 3 3 50,136, 320-324 3306, 1. 7 236, 11 1 16911 1366, 1
4.16 231, 3011-6, 1626, 169- 4 4,132 b. 331-334 ' 1. 9 8(t)1;9%(')4’
172, 320, 331-334 - 2. 1 ,
5_ 6 43,: 4. 6 18b, 6, 1466, 294, 247g, 2. 2 2311, g, 11
5. 9 1646, 6, 11911 3372. 11.1 2. 10 247
6 4 6 56 32 26 127 4- 7 192k, 321, 499 2. 15 26,29 766
" 13' b‘ ’196’ 411 49711 11 32 204-’
. ‘ e1 6 1
6_ 8 1216,5222‘-2’b4§(;1 6 4. I4 182.2328, 19-10, 199, 319, 3. 5 2811, i, 813,2
6. 10,11 42 3. 7 101 1936
6. 12 169-172, 311 5. 5 3§8 3. 3 400’ ’
6. 13,19 66, 113, 119, 170, 194, 5- 6 924- 291-994. 316 3. 11.12.14-
2011,2336 5- 10,11 13. 14. 50.6611. b, f, g, 19, 23247
7 6 40 173.285f, 1, 311 3. 13 13211, 11, 11, 51
.. .5 3011.169,1366,137,2426, L? ?5g8—?§4o093 136 392 3. 15 8 20. 304 - . 4. - , , , 3. 17,1 43,
9 22 6811,1876 3308., 6, 331-334 3. 20 95, 96, 273, 297
9. 27 233, 3516, 6 3. 22 331
19 22 320 1 PETER. 4. 7, 3, 11,
19 23 673, 173, 1751, 285f,403b, 1. 7 13,14. 50,112, 173, 194j, 4 8 20.21i;137‘32d
11 311 . ,.
11‘ 26 27 266,6, 11,6,32, 336,127, 1. 3 506,’536, 86a,118e,119, 2 tllél %g%. 1342158335240
196, 40631 192- , 6 240 - 0
11 31 3201620, 121, 222, 2371, 1. 14 263-276 ’ 3- 31 4.. 4272 1. 16-19 405 0. ., 1 ' 1
10. 36 311 ' 1. 13, 19 1956, 256 5. 4 172. 195. 94°
10 33 266, 17011, 240 1. 22 346, 247 5. 13 427
11. 1-32 169-172, 240 1. 23 53-65 5. 16 736, 6, j, 111, 196, 4061
11 4 224 1.24 136,19-16, 199,429
:1 194 12 (1533, 252, 40711, 6, 11 2 101161.
~ 9 11. . .299
11 23, 27 112,173 i751, 260, 2796 2. 7 169-172, 240,243 11 5 247
11. 24 403 2. 3 15311, 4276 916 106166
11. 25 374,11 2. 9,10, 151016 1° 80¢
11.27 1531' 2. 11 235, 251
11. 36-33 293, 303, 316 2. 12 331", 166 3 JC HN
12. 1 2346, 311 2. 17 346 247 1, 2 247
12 2 169-172 49511 2. 13 41146, 6,11 3 101,166
894
SCRIPTURAL INDEX.
wee
3 JOHN.-—Continued. REVELATION. REVELATION .—ContinuetL
1%. 0. flnecdotes Ch. 0. flnecdotes. Ch. 0. flnecdotes.
5 201 ‘ 1. 3 66, 68, 69, 299 17. 14 80d
6 142 1. 8 185b 20. 6 194a
9 337g 2. 24 400 20. 10 360
3. 17 29k,l, 129g—j, 121d, g,267 20. 12, 13 238
4. 8 1191 21. 8 26, 207, 2460, 252%
JUDE_ 5. 9 82, 195e 240, 256 238, 300, 305
5. I0 ]94e 21 27 1941
4 309, 424 7. 12 188 22. 4 248e
6, 7, 13 238, 360, 4251' 12. 11 248a, 178a, b, c, e, g, 22. 5 ]94d, e, j
'1 164 c 175i‘, 285, 403b, d 22 11 360
11 29a, 48, 301 13. 15 298, 303, 315, 316 22. 15 207, 2460, 252, 269 B
16, 18 213, 230-234, 251, 309 14. 13 118, 119, 280 300, 305
424 16. 14 305 22. 40612
15 81, 42"? 17 6 298. 303 22. 18, 19 678
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